#my shitty editing skills coming into play | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlexdeaths · 6 months

Text

sympathy for the devil - e.m.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #kas eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #kas!eddie munson x reader #supernatural x stranger things au

276 notes · View notes

kkvqwrites · 2 years

Text

You Flinched | 141 Headcannons

Don't mind me, just some 141 boys reacting to finding out reader has a history of abuse or DV. We all know that our boys would never harm a loved one, but I began thinking about them responding to their loved one being triggered. Because trauma isn't rational.

CW: DV mentioned/alluded to (not on-screen), trauma

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,833

A/N: Yes this is self-indulgent because I have my own history and use my comfort characters to help. So I hope it can help someone else in the same way it helps me. Also forgive me, I threw it together on a whim and didn't really edit it.

Simon "GHOST" Riley

Simon is usually very careful with how he presents. He knows he's big, he knows he's intimidating, and most of all he knows what it's like to be vulnerable and scared of someone bigger than you. He knows when to use his voice/stature to his advantage (like on the battlefield) vs when to tone it down (like in private). He never wants to be scary to those he loves, ever. In fact, he wants his loved ones to have the opposite experience from what he had growing up.

That said, we all have our moments. It was, you both could admit, a silly argument over what ended up amounting to a non-issue. He was fresh back from the field and sleep-deprived and you had had a long shitty day and so a small disagreement became an argument. Somewhere in the bickering Simon decided he was over it. He stood, crumpling the paper he was holding into a fist and raising his voice, which he almost never did.

The combination of the fist and the yelling was what did it. He stood up so tall, so fast, and suddenly you were eight again, hiding in the cupboards and terrified to make a sound. Not knowing what would happen if you were found, but knowing for certain it wouldn't be good. When your parents went into their rages, there was nothing to do but hide and wait it out. As if reciting a dance you knew by heart, you shrank back, hands coming up defensively.

Simon noticed instantly, despite your best attempts to play it off. He knew all too well the look of a terrorized inner child and recognized it immediately in your pale face and shrinking posture. It broke his heart; he immediately regretted lashing out as it was, but this was even worse.

He'd step back, giving you space. He'd ask permission before approaching you and before hugging you, and once you gave it you'd be wrapped in an embrace that was both tender and hard as steel. He'd hold you for a long time, not saying anything. If you cracked and it all came spilling out, he'd listen intently. If you didn't want to talk about it, he'd respect it and not breathe a word about it until you were ready. You could feel in his heartbeat his need to make you feel safe warring with his desire to find whoever made you afraid and teach them a lesson about fear.

Simon is a man of actions, not words, and he's never been a fan of "sorry" and instead prefers follow-through. Now, though, the word poured from his lips. Wrapping your arms around him in return, you forgave him wordlessly.

The next free time you both had, he'd surprise you by taking you to a shooting range. Another weekend, he'd teach you basic knife skills and how to throw a decent punch. If questioned, he'd say it was something he'd been meaning to do for a while with a dismissive shrug. But you had a hunch, even if he couldn't or wouldn't verbalize it, that he was sharing with you the ways he'd learned to overcome feeling powerless when he was younger. By learning to defend and fight back, you could take your agency back and walk into the world unafraid. It didn't matter that he'd grind anyone who bothered you into dust, because it was about you and making you feel empowered. Simon wasn't one to give you bouquets of flowers and poems, but he could give you this. And, slowly but surely, it started to work.

John "SOAP" Mactavish

You and Johnny were out with some mutual friends at the pub one night, drinking and having fun. Your boisterous Scotsman was ever the social butterfly, and he never failed to bring the party wherever he went.

You and a friend were laughing at something on your phone, and when you handed it Johnny to show him, you froze as your eyes saw an unmistakable silhouette over his shoulder. You recovered quickly, sure that it was a mistake, but not quickly enough. Johnny's face went serious as he studied your expression, which was suddenly tense.

You'd play it off, not wanting to ruin the good vibe. You'd even double check to reassure yourself that it wasn't him, but your stomach would sink once you looked back. In a corner of the bar, nursing a glass of dark liquor, was your ex. He noticed you at the same time, and the eye contact made you feel sick.

At this, Johnny would take a look for himself, and would pick out the man eyeing you from across the bar right away. After giving the man a once-over, he'd turn back to you.

"Is that who I think it is?" You'd nod. You had told him bits and pieces of how your ex treated you, but left out the worst of it lest Johnny go on a rampage to defend your honor. He's loyal to a fault and would not take kindly to anyone mistreating people he cared about.

The unfortunate thing was, being special forces came with an ability to read people and situations, and your reaction to seeing your ex filled in the gaps well enough for Johnny to understand what wasn't being said. You were scared, and the man seemed to know it by the smug expression he wore as he stared at you.

Rather than cause a scene, as you had feared, Johnny scooted so he completely blocked your view of the other man (and the man's view of you via his broad shoulders). Seamlessly, he'd continue the conversation with the folks around you as if nothing was amiss, despite his hand never leaving your thigh in a move that was at once possessive and reassuring. You leaned into the touch, comforted by Johnny's presence and relieved that the situation had seemingly blown over.

A bit later, Johnny announced he was going to the bar to get another round for the table. On instinct, your gaze shot to where your ex had been sitting, but his seat was now empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, your eyes turned to follow Johnny through the room. You could never get tired of looking at him. It wasn't until he reached the bar and clapped a fellow patron on the shoulder that you realized the individual he was talking to wasn't the bartender, but your ex who had moved seats. Keeping his hand on the man's shoulder, Johnny struck up a conversation like a true natural.

Oh no.

You braced for a commotion, but Johnny's expression and body language stayed friendly and open. You couldn't hear what he was saying to the man, and if asked he'd tell you he was just introducing himself. But when he let go of your ex's shoulder and flagged down the bartender to order a drink, the other man threw some money onto the bar and all but ran out the door.

The place would become a frequent haunt for your friend group, but you'd never see your ex darken the doorstep again after Johnny's talk with him. Good riddance.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You and Kyle had been going steady for a bit now, and you were excited to introduce him to your family. Well, most of your family. You didn't have a good relationship with your stepdad, and Kyle respected that it was a sore spot for you. He would never pry, but he could pick up on how your tone would change when your stepdad would come up in conversation, how your posture would change when your mom dragged him into the frame to say hello during your video chats.

A big family dinner was the perfect opportunity to introduce everyone to Kyle, and you were looking forward to it. Truly. You had a nice outfit picked out and Kyle bought some fancy wine to bring, hoping for a good first impression. He needn't have worried; your aunts and cousins all fawned over him, and your uncles were endlessly impressed by his stories from his job. Long story short, he was a hit.

He stayed by you all night, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as he made conversation. At first, you chalked it up to being the new guy in the room, but the ease of his posture suggested he wasn't nervous. Rather, his frequent check-ins started to make it feel like his closeness was for your benefit. You were the one who was nervous, looking over your shoulder every few minutes praying you didn't see a certain face in the crowd. You loved your family, but get-togethers always came with a certain amount of anxiety. Every time your eyes strayed around the room, Kyle's followed, taking in the crowd. Even more frequently, you caught him sneaking glances at you, as if assessing if you were alright.

You were alright, until the front door opened and you heard a specific voice boom in greeting. Your mom and stepdad strode in, late as always, your mom carrying the casserole dish and your stepdad slapping a case of beer on the counter. Your demeanor changed immediately, shrinking yourself as if you could become invisible if you just hunched enough. It didn't work, of course, and they spotted you within seconds. Before you could react, Kyle was in front of you, placing himself between you and your parents with a smile and his hand out to shake.

"I'm Kyle, heard lots about you," he said neutrally, shaking hands with both of them. They turned to you, but Kyle spoke again. "How was the drive? Heard you had to come across that new expressway, have they finished that yet?"

It was like that the rest of the evening. Kyle remained an immovable barrier between you and your stepdad, keeping him engaged in conversation and unable to address you. You and your mom were able to slip away shortly to help set the table and catch up, and every time you snuck a glance at the men out of the corner of your eye, the view was the same: Kyle orienting himself as a physical wall, keeping you out of eyeshot. His body language was at-ease, his smile friendly enough, but his eyes were tight, not like they had been when talking with everyone else.

When everyone grabbed a seat, Kyle pulled a chair out for you before quickly stealing the spot next to you from your stepdad. You looked at him with gratitude and he squeezed your knee reassuringly under the table, all the while maintaining conversations with those around him as if nothing was amiss. If you hadn't already loved him, you certainly would have after that night.

Captain John Price

Ah, spring cleaning.

Well, it was November, but still. It's refreshing to get rid of old stuff and start anew, but it's also essential when you're combining two households. John had finally convinced you to move in with him, so the two of you were creating piles labeled "Keep" "Trash" and "Donate". Upon reaching the bottom of an old box labelled "Miscellaneous," you came upon something that had your stomach churning. Old records: Johnny Cash, the Sex Pistols, the Doors. You hadn't realized you had them, and you weren't particularly fond of who they belonged to.

You didn't realize you had frozen in place until John snapped you out of it, coming up behind you with a hand snaking around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Whatcha got, love?" He whistled when you showed him.

"The condition those are in, you could get a pretty penny. I didn't know you collected vinyl, I'd have bought a player."

"They're not... mine." You explained, as briefly as possible, that they were your ex's and must have gotten mixed up in your stuff when you split several years ago. He hummed in understanding.

"Right, then. To the garbage with it?"

It was the logical solution. He hadn't asked after them, so he must not miss them that badly. You would rather lie down in traffic than have any contact with him. But John's comment about their value stopped you from throwing them onto the "Trash" pile. Damn your too-kind heart, always causing problems.

It was easy enough to find your ex's contact info; you had changed your number after the split, he hadn't. Soon enough, you had agreed on a time for him to swing by and grab the stuff when he was free. The rest of moving made the days go by in a blur of organizing and unpacking and bickering over where the toaster should go and which wall to mount the TV on. That is, until you looked at your calendar and realized that it was today. This afternoon was the interaction you'd spent the week trying not to think about. You'd stepped around the box of his things all week, mentally blocking out why it was sitting in the front hall. You'd managed to stay busy, and bury your anxiety in the endless tasks that come with setting up a new home.

But time had run out, and in mere hours you were going to be face to face with someone you had once sworn never to see again. The realization made the room feel too small, made the air feel too warm, made you feel like you were suffocating. Suddenly you just had to get out.

"We need... yogurt." You blurted, walking too quickly and too loudly into the foyer to grab your keys.

"Yogurt? Right now?" John called from the kitchen.

"Yes, right now! For... for a recipe," you mustered, hoping you sounded convincing. This had been a mistake, a huge mistake, and your brain was screaming RUN! RUN! RUN! as loudly as it could. Hand on the doorknob, however, you froze. If you left, John would be here when your ex arrived. He'd answer the door, introduce himself, and hand off the items. Shouldn't that be ideal? No contact between you and him, simple and easy. But rather than provide relief, the thought made you sick to your stomach. It felt like a defiling almost, to think of him entering your new sanctuary and meeting the love you thought you'd never have. It felt wrong on every level, and your feet rooted to the spot in agreement.

"Still here, love?" John came into view, the book he'd been reading in hand, finger acting as a bookmark. "I was thinking, I could go if you wanted. Just text me what we need. Don't you have someone coming by?"

Yes - that's it, you thought. Have John go, get him away from here before he could arrive. You'd handle it on your own; you'd done it before.

Nodding, you stepped aside, slipping your shoes off next to the door. John put his book down and approached, taking your place and grabbing his keys off the hook. He turned to kiss your forehead, but stopped short and stared at you. He noticed for the first time that you were fidgety, as if anxious for him to leave when usually it was the exact opposite. His ever-observant eyes spent several seconds taking you in, and you knew as he asked the question that he already knew the answer.

"Everything alright?"

Of course it was! How silly to think otherwise! You began playing it off, the same way you had gotten so good at doing back when you and he were still together and your friends would ask you the same thing. Just hyper, just busy, just this, just that, always an excuse to avoid saying "I'm afraid." Afraid of what mood he'd be in, afraid of what awaited you when you two would be alone later. Fear you hadn't felt in a long time, but could feel now just as bone-deep as it had been back then. As if your body had stored it as muscle memory just in case this day came.

"Are you nervous about something?" It was another question you could tell he already knew the answer to, and you wanted to feel irked about it, but looking into those eyes you suddenly just felt tired. Tired of carrying the fear and the uncertainty alone. So you exhaled for a long time, and slowly told him exactly what you were nervous about.

It felt good to get it off your chest. Until now, no one had ever known the extent of what had gone on. You expected John to explode into some fit of hyper-masculine protectiveness like guys on TV, but he didn't. He listened to you talk, and then he nodded and sat on the couch, reopening his book on his lap.

"What are you doing?" You eyed him suspiciously, unable to believe that that was the end of the conversation.

"Well, I'm waiting right here. And when this lad knocks, I'm going to answer the door and have a little chat with him."

#who would have thought I'd get wordy writing about Price #it's my older man kink #can you tell the writer juices flowed as I kept writing #mwii headcannons #task force 141 #141 headcanons #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #no use of y/n #ghost mwii #soap mwii #gaz mwii #price mwii

1K notes · View notes

ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

Text

the leaves were sparkling

cw. olnf week 2024, pre!release, step 1, day 1

pairing. sparkling leaves

notes. it's august 3rd and @olnfweek2024 is finally upon us. i'm not gonna lie, i'm the most boring our life player. with my favs, i just play as myself and act accordingly to the age i would have been at the time. across both games, tamarack is my absolute favorite lead and i can't not indulge in the shenanigans. not apologizing for my shitty editing skills lmao

Standing in the fork of a road in the autumnal forest of Golden Grove, Nyla feels more like the protagonist of a movie than a normal person.

Gone is the familiar scenery of Richmond, California and the people that came along with it. Richmond came with honking cars, oil-stained parking lots and the turbulence of being an inner city kid. Golden Grove, Oregon is practically a new world in comparison to the hoods Mom normally could afford to live in. And if it wasn’t less-than-savory neighborhoods with gang violence and shady neighbors they were staying in, it was Grandma or Grandpa's.

It isn’t the first time Nyla’s moved out of California but this time feels so different.

Everything about this is different.

They weren’t moving into the house of extended family Nyla only knew through stories beforehand. Or moving in with either of her grandparents. As far as Nyla knew, they didn’t have family in Oregon.

It’s just be her and Mom.

And we’re in a house!

A house not an apartment.

An actual home not temporary residence.

Nyla would have her own room, her own space, her own everything and it was far, far away from the normality that had been Nyla’s life until today.

And it’s just ours! At least once the real estate person finally came and let the both of them in the house.

Until then, Nyla was free to play in the neighborhood and she wasn’t restricted to Mom’s normal “you can go from that corner to that corner”. At least, she wouldn’t be as soon as they’d moved in properly and gotten to know all they needed to know about the mountain town. Who cared about the town itself when there was a veritable forest to explore right behind their new house, however.

In the forest, she’d find an answer to the mystery at present.

Hello.

Go out.

Hideout.

Nyla.

Nyla reads over what had been a paper airplane once more.

Hello.

Go out.

Hideout.

Nyla.

What does it mean?! Perhaps this is how Jack felt when he was equal parts confused and enraptured by the lights and toys of Christmantown.

Strange paper in hand while she stands between two roads, it’s not hard to believe Nyla's life has suddenly become a movie. Was this some strange code left to her by the mythical beings of Golden Grove? Where is this hideout she is supposed to go to? Would this entire journey take her into one of the fantasy worlds she adored reading about? There is only one way to find out and it all comes down to whichever path she takes.

“I’m right-handed, so I should go to the right, maybe,” Nyla mumbles thoughtfully. Talking to oneself is an easy habit to develop when your many siblings live far away from you and you have to make company somehow. Nyla loves to talk, she doubts she’ll ever be incapable of shutting up and being quiet like a good chunk of her relatives desired. “But I always go right though.” Because I’m right-handed.

Going right has never steered Nyla wrong before.

In spite of her tried and true method, brown eyes can’t help wandering to the path less traveled. She can feel it in her bones, something really really good is going to happen if she goes left.

Magical adventures never happen to characters like Chihiro or Kiki or Yusuke because they decided to do what they’d normally do. Chihiro got into the spirit world because she took a risk, Kiki met Tombo because she left earlier than planned and Yusuke would have never become a spirit detective if he never pushed that kid from getting hit by a car.

Adventures come from being different.

“I’m going left!” Nyla announces to no one in particular, wide-eyed in her excitement. Humming Smile Bomb obnoxiously loud, Nyla continues her quest.

What if this really is her moment, Nyla wonders.

What if she manages to stumble onto something mystical and normally unseen? In a forest like this, it’s easy to imagine being like Alice and falling into a rabbit hole into Wonderland. Or perhaps she’d find a cave with a sleeping dragon. Or perhaps she’d even stumble upon a faerie revelry and dance with the queen?

All of the aforementioned scenarios are easy to picture in a place like this.

There were no forests in Richmond, at least not where she lived.

Nor were things so magical.

Reds and golds blend into one another, mushrooms dot the forest floor. Living with the faerie folk crosses Nyla’s mind more than once as she takes in the sights and sounds of the forest.

Then she hears it; a clatter.

With as much reckless abandon a ten year old can possess, Nyla walks off the dirt path to find the source of the noise. Thin branches and crunchy leaves splinter underfoot and her heartbeat quickens in anticipation as she reaches a cluster of trees akin to the Circle of Holiday Towns. This is magic.

It has to be, Nyla thinks, as the golden rays that peek through the canopy paints everything in a pale glow. This is a place where faeries have their revels. The trees were harmoniously aligned and leaf piles dotted the ground. What if faeries are in them? Faeries are supposed to be good at hiding, Nyla remembers from her stories as she follows her instincts to one pile in particular. This one has a faerie.

Fate doesn’t give Nyla a second later to act on her faerie tale references.

“Hello!” Leaves red, brown and orange rise in a whirlwind as a kid around Nyla’s age leapt out of a pile, arms raised high. Brown stares into red as everything they’d thrown up gently drifts back to earth and just when it seems magic can’t be anymore real, their chests are aglow in berry-reds.

This is the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.

Sparkling, everything is sparkling.

It’s like all the sparkle in their fluffy gold hair was sharing its glow on everything surrounding it. The air and the leaves resting around them. If this is what magic is supposed to be, Nyla doesn’t feel the urge to argue against it.

“You’re so pretty,” Nyla breathes, brown cheeks warm.

“No you!” The sparkly-haired stranger giggles, round cheeks flushed pink as she beams in return.

I met a girl I'm gonna marry.

soulmate au: when you meet your soulmate, your chest glows. one of my favorite spins on soulmate verse that i rarely ever see, so i decided to whip it out for my olnf week debut! within my playthrough of olnf, it's love at first sight for the two of us, kid nyla knew she was marrying this girl when they grew up.

#look it's self shipping hours #olnf week 2024 #sparkling leaves #our life: now & forever #olnf #tamarack baumann

21 notes · View notes

bearslonelywinter · 1 year

Text

The lies we'll tell: NMJ x Plus Size Fem! Reader

Summary: Being the secretary to a powerful CEO is no easy feat. But with his lingering dragon like eyes, things could get a bit more interesting.

Warnings: Possessive behavior, Smut, bit of fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, dom!Namjoon, sub!reader, work place bullying and talk of diet culture. Also, very light editing done. FLITH.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

A/N: Hi hi! This is my first story posting on here. I used to write a lot back then but I am just now getting back into the swing of things and I hope you guys enjoy~ <3 I am very nervous.

You spent the majority of your early morning in the bathroom trying to readjust your tight skirt. You had no idea why you let your best friend, Jia decide to pick out your clothes for today.

"Ah, shit," you whisper to yourself trying to bring it down more and more but the skirt keeps wanting to ride up your plump thighs.

"Why, why, why! Did I let Jia talk me into this," you whisper to yourself when you hear one of the stall bathrooms unlock.

A tall slender woman appeared. She's pale, short jet black hair that stopped right above her shoulders with a cute grey business casual outfit that complemented that pale skin. She looks at you through the mirror with all of the cookie cutter sinks lined up, washes her hands and reapplies her bright red lipstick.

"Such a shame," she says.

"Excuse me?" you ask.

"Oh? You heard that? Sorry, sometimes my thoughts slip out." She smirks, eyes rolling in disgust as she see's you keep struggling to pull down your skirt. "I was saying that it's such a shame . . . no more like a disappointment that our CEO hired you over me. I'm sure I'd be more of a prize to look at," she pauses putting her lipstick away in her bag and fixes her hair. "He pick someone who is supposed to keep up, how can you do that when you can't even keep up with yourself?"

Your face was red, boiling over with anger within you. Nari, Nari was a mean mean woman even when you first met her when you both were young interns. She has always had her sights on the CEO of Bangtan Corp. She was young money and blew it off while partying in her early twenties from the rumors you heard. Daddy is broke but still has connections which lead her, here . . . you about to rip her a new one.

"I'm sorry, last time I checked I'm the one close with the CEO? Not you? Huh, such a shame that your pretty little head still can't comprehend that. While I am struggling, I will and still will come on top. Don't you forget that," you snapped.

Her face is red, just about almost as red as that obnoxious red lipstick she has on. She quickly walks out of the bathroom, pushing past another woman. "Woah! Be careful, sheesh," the woman's voice shouts. It's a familiar voice. "Hey what happened with Narcissus over here?" Jia asks.

Tears sting your eyes and all you can do is hold onto the ends of your skirt still trying to pull it down. "Hey, hey! What's going on?" Jia asks while getting closer. You look up at her in the mirror. She is a bit tanner, long light brown hair she keeps into a ponytail with cute bangs to frame her face. She usually has light brown contacts in but today, her dark eyes are only focused on you.

"I'm sick of her shitty attitude towards everyone, I'm sick of people doubting my skills because I got picked to be Mr. Kim's secretary and most of all I AM SICK OF THIS SKIRT!" you couldn't help but shout a bit while trashing about.

Clearly over-stimulated, Jia shushes you while petting your hair. "Y/N, hey girl it's going to be alright, look at me!" she exclaims.

"No."

"Look at me, Y/N, I'm not playing games here."

You give in, facing towards her and away from the big mirror.

"First and foremost. Nari over here, that bitch. Don't worry about her, she can be a bully with her little group and keke all she wants but, it will not get her far, not with the high school mentality she has. Secondly, you speak three different languages, you were valedictorian in your collage and you can crush a cantaloupe with these thighs," she says, giggling while taking a good little slap to your inner thigh.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better, how?" you ask while rolling your eyes.

"Because! I was going to say before you interrupted me. Thirdly, you're hot."

"Oh come on now, you're ju-"

"Y/N, no I'm serious. Look at you," she says while she gets behind you and makes you face towards the mirror. "Look at how cute you did your hair today, your makeup is on point and matches so well with your dark navy blue skirt, long sleeve white silk blouse and your small pearl necklace you have on. You're too cute. I know you think your skirt . . . is a bit too short and I'm sorry for that. I just thought you needed to feel beautiful as much as you look right now."

There's a pause. You take a look at yourself, a really good look at yourself. You see how your curves are fitted well. How the black small belt holding your skirt is making your waist come in and how flushed your hips are. Your black sheer tights highlight your thick thighs and how your black chunky heels are making your back straighten, giving you that boost you need. To top it off, your breasts look perfectly round, the white blouse has a small little plunge showing the tops of them off, beautifully.

Jia takes notice and gives you a soft smile.

"Are we about to kiss?" you joke.

"No! But, I'm down if you are!" She laughs a hearty laugh all while you wave her off. You grab your large bag off of the sink counter and pull out a grey sweater. "Ugh no, please not the sweater," she says.

"While I appreciate you basically eye fucking me, this skirt is still inappropriate for work," you say. You wrap the light feeling sweater around your waist and tie the arms around the front of you. The longer part covers your bottom. "I have to schedule some meetings now. See you after work?"

Jia gives you her big smile. "Of course! Dinner at your place?"

"Dinner at my place," you agree. "Don't forget that wine I left at your place okay!" you say as you leave the bathrooms.

"What wine again!?" she yells.

* * *

The office space you've shared with Mr. Kim has always been so intimate. You were placed in a small waiting room and the doors that were almost immediately behind you, is where he resides. Like a dragon underneath a mountain with his pile of gold, gold like secrets you'd say.

It was around 12 p.m. About lunch time for Mr. Kim and yourself. You'd always have the kitchens below deliver his lunch to his office while you waited outside at your desk to eat yours. But this time, when you knock with hot soup and meat in hand, he doesn't answer.

You knock again, no answer. You wonder if you should just leave him a text message. No, you thought. From the first time you met him in your interview with him, to officially receiving the job - he has always told you, whenever you needed him, to go straight to him.

But you didn't need him, you just needed to give him his food. You stand there, feet firmly planted into the ground, your breathing getting shorter. What could go wrong, you thought. Just say excuse me, give him his food and get out of there.

You took a deep breath, knocked once more and let yourself in. The room is big, adorned with navy blue color painted on the walls with expensive monochromatic art pieces lined beautifully and two statues of white marble dragons in the corners by his big black wooden desk. The large ceiling tall windows, with the view of the city of Seoul really pulled the room together. You took a step further, your heels meeting the soft plush gray carpet that's in the middle of the white tile flooring. Two black leather facing his desk, the back of his own leather swivel chair, is faced away from you.

You take notice of a small glass cup that was empty but you can see the coloring of the recent drink he has recently drank, brown. Whiskey of some sorts you believe, knowing Mr. Kim has always texted you to buy whiskey for his clients who request meetings with him. You crept closer. Placing the hot soup with the meats onto the table, trying to not disturb him.

"Hi, Mr. Kim. Your food is ready," you whisper. No answer. You slowly move around the desk, to see if your CEO is still alive. But there he was, his beautiful tan skin, his plump lips and his black hair that framed his face oh so perfectly. He was asleep.

You linger for a moment, looking at him. He's wearing a two piece all blacked out suit. He looks tired to you. You know with all of the meetings in the last couple of days with international affairs, especially with trying to dip his toes into the music industry with a new artist can be difficult and it's finally caught up with him.

Seeing him sleep is peaceful to you. You could take a picture if you wanted to but all I can do is soak up the silence and his beauty.

"You know, if you're just going to stand there you might as well bring your lunch in here and join me," he says. You took a step back and see him sit up a bit while he opened his eyes. His dragon like eyes. They roamed your body as he casually licks his lips from what you assume the long nap he had. "A grey sweater? Are you cold, Y/N?"

You cock your head in confusion all while you look down and remember about the stupid sweater you had to wrap around yourself. "Oh! I am so sorry Mr. Kim. I had a wardrobe malfunction and I just needed a quick fix before trying to tackle all of the scheduling done for today," you say quickly.

"Is that so?" he says. "Well my proposal still stands, grab your lunch and join me. You're already here"

Your thoughts were racing. Oh no, I disturbed him. He's going to shred into me for invading his space, you thought. "O-Of course, sir," you say quickly exiting the luxurious room to your little desk outside. From under your desk was a mini fridge. You grabbed your chicken salad with your black ice cold water bottle and came back into the room with him.

He set one of the guest chairs closer to the large wooden desk, opened one of the boxes and began to blow to cool down his noodles. You quietly, place your lunch in front of him all while pulling out the chair so you sit down. Even when he is sitting up, he towers over you, you rub your legs together. He notices.

"Is that all you brought darling?" he asks. His words sending chills down your spine. A pet name.

"Yeah, I just really need to watch what I eat sometimes . . . I'm sure you noticed," you say, wanting to shrink into the leather seat.

"No, as a matter of fact. I notice the lunches you usually bring in. Have you been eating enough?"

You want to just disappear. It was so invasive, like he can see right through you. While it made you feel this way, you wanted him to pry more. You wanted him to know every part of yourself.

"M-Mr. Kim. I-"

"Namjoon, please call me Namjoon."

"Namjoon sir . . . I . . . uh, it's just been hard when hearing all the comments and people saying things towards me. I just want to make sure that I look good, to make you look good . . . sir."

You look at him, the dragon eyes are back. He's peering into your soul all while you feel so small. He leans forward, hands in front of his face, he cocks his head and sighs. You see how plump his lips are, how sharp his eyes are and how his hands . . . oh his hands and what you would give to feel them.

"I'm sorry, I said too much," you say to try to ease the tension.

"Nothing you say or do will ever make me look bad, darling. Why you should tell me who is making such remarks to my secretary."

Your heart flutters, you expect him to brush off the matter or to even shame you like others have. But, should you really give a name? Nari was an awful woman yes, but this was messing with her income if you were to interject. You hesitate. He notices.

"If you're worried about me firing them. I wouldn't do so, let me ease your mind," he says leaning back his chair, spreading his legs a bit farther apart, eyes still on you. "Give me a name and i'll make sure they will never bother you again."

This time, his voice rumbled in your bones. He meant it, you can tell he did. You open your mouth a bit, he leans in a bit more - awaiting your answer.

"It's this woman who was in the communications division with me from when I first started here as an intern . . . she was also one of the people running to be your secretary when we both saw the internal portal application."

"Ah," he says. Finally happy with your answer.

"You promise you won't get her fired or anything? As much as I dislike her, I don't fancy messing with people's money. That's not something I'd want to do to her."

"You have a good heart," he says, lifting out of his chair to move the food to the side. "Stand with me, Y/N."

Almost like an instinct, you stood with him. He motions for you to come to him and you did. You walk over to his side of the desk and he makes you both look out into the city.

"I read your file a while back, when I first hired you two months ago. Trilingual woman in her early twenties coming to a big hit company like mine. I was intrigued you know?" he says looking down at you.

"That I spoke three different languages? I don't think it's that impressive . . ." you trail off.

"That's not an easy feat, Y/N. You passed all of the communications tests with flying colors, me and my team gave you impossible tasks but you managed to outwit everyone and surprise everyone with how efficient you are. I had to see you."

You blush, you never realized how much at hand Namjoon put into the tests you and others had to make. You felt proud and if you could, you'd call your mom and tell her you made the CEO proud of you. You were beaming and loved the praise he gave you. He notices.

"And when I saw you . . ."

Oh no, here we go. All of a sudden your mood became sullen, he's going to tell you how disappointed he was when he saw you or whatever horrible thing.

"When I saw you, you took my breath away," he says.

"Wha-"

"You are so radiant. Genuinely such joy. I saw how you made your co-workers laugh, you made lunches for everyone and you're just so beautiful."

You felt as if this was a dream. Was the number one bachelor in all of South Korea, the CEO of one of the biggest companies . . . was complimenting you? Your mouth gap open, you took a step back to try to gather everything he just said. Your heart is racing as your face is turning red. He smiles.

"All while, you look great doing it."

That was your boiling point. You had to go, get out of here before he takes too much notice of how much you're unraveling in front of him. Before you could, you felt him behind you. You looked up to see in the big windows, a reflection of you two.

"You know what I see when I look at you?" he asks.

"I, umm . . . someone who can make you proud?" you ask. It was a dumb dumb response you thought to yourself.

"I see a beautiful, sexy young woman," he says while he unties the sweater around your waist and throws it to the side. You can finally see how big your hips are. While fully clothed, you felt exposed. His hands stay on your hips. "Now tell me, what do you see now?"

You wanted to rub your legs together again. Even from the sheer reflection of you two in the window, his eyes are only focused on you. You just nodded your head dumbly in hopes he understands what you're saying yes to.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk . . . use your words, darling."

Your breath hitches, you wanted to curl into a ball and wanted to run. He's seeing right through you, he's toying with you. He knows, he knows how bad you want him. The side glances you two give to each other for weeks and how you always straighten your back when he comes in and out of his office. He knows.

Namjoon was a man full of focus, his job, with his own projects and with his women. Once he saw you, he had to see what you were hiding underneath those clothes. Today was especially hard for him when he saw how short your skirt was and how your sheer black tights looked so snug on your thighs. He had to tear into you, no he needed to tear into you.

"I-I see you want to tear into me," you respond.

He smiles and brings his head in closer to your ear, "You'd be correct." You smile back at him, one of his hands is going for your waist while the other remains on your hip. "You're running the show, darling. Tell me when or when to stop."

Thousands of thoughts are running through your head, you should stop this. You have to stop this, he was your boss, your senior and someone who is much older than you. But the way your heat aches in between your legs, says otherwise.

"I want you to bend me over this table and have your way with me," you breathe out. He smiles, you see that malevolent smile. He kisses the side of your head.

"As you wish."

He hikes up your tight skirt as far as it'll let him, showing him the pink lace colored panties you have. You looked away from the reflection of you, but then his soft lips met yours. He deepens the kiss. He parts and you're breathless once again. His eyes peered into your soul.

"I need you to see how pretty you look," he says, slowly turning your head to the reflection. You cringe on how you look, your thick thighs and how the panties you have have already dampened from how wet you are. "Look at my pretty girl. So beautiful." You buck a bit at his words. Wanting him to touch you more. You needed more, more, more. He unbuttons your long sleeve blouse, one by one slowly making sure you're still looking. He throws your blouse across the room, showing your pink bra.

Your breasts were pushed up so deliciously for him but you were too worried about how your stomach looked, your arms went immediately to cover your mid section. Namjoon takes notice and lifts your arms up. His arms wrap around you.

"My baby looks beautiful, no matter what," he says. He comes from behind you, kneels in front of you and looks up. "Everything, every inch of you is beautiful." He hikes up your skirt more. He's kissing your knee, to lower inner thigh, to your upper thigh now. You had to lean against something, you were getting weak in the knees. You lean back against the large wooden desk as he lifts your left up and propped it on his shoulder. Kissing every inch on your inner thigh.

Your core was heating up, you wanted to beg him to stop teasing you. Namjoon looks up at you and smiles. His hands rides up your thighs all the way to your hips and back in between your thighs again. He goes for the outer layer of your sheer black tights right where your core is. You moan out as he rips the middle of them. Your pink panties in full view in front of him.

"You're this wet already, darling?" You face away until his voice brings you back. "Look at me baby." You turn to look at him. "You're not going to keep your eyes off of me," he says. You nod. "Use your words baby."

"Yes . . . sir," you say. You know you picked the right words because once you said that, he places thumb and glides it over your clit. You moan out softly. Keeping your gaze on him and he's watching you fall apart. He smirks as gently moves your pink panties to the side, getting a full view of your pretty pussy.

"Divine," he says while popping a finger in slowly. You moan out, feeling your slick dripping down your thighs. He's slowly reaching inside of you, making your squirm in his grasp. You wanted more, you needed more.

Another finger. His ring finger along with the middle finger inside of you slowly pumping in and out while his thumb grazed over your clit occasionally. You were unraveling, moaning his name, moaning swears. He found it amusing that you never broke eye contact with him, Namjoon needed to test you more.

In a swift motion, his plump lips attacked your core. You cry out and grip the table behind you. Needing some stability. "Ah fuck!" you cry.

His tongue is dancing around your clit and moving down to your hole where his fingers reside. You never break the view you're seeing. His dragon eyes peering into your soul like he wanted it. He wanted to take everything from you and make it his . . . and the way he was eating you out, you'd let him.

You feel yourself on the brink of coming. You had to let him know, let him know he makes you feel good. "N-Namjoon, I can't hold it anymore!" you scream.

He detaches and as he stares at you he says, "Be a good girl and finish for me."

You about lost it, his fingers pumping in faster with his tongue dancing now on your clit. You cry out. You run your fingers through his soft black hair, wanting to pull on it. You restrain yourself and simply press into him more. "I-I can't do it anymore. I'm coming!" you cry out feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your eyes rolling back and you fully lean on the desk.

He leans up to kiss you and you accept. You taste yourself on his tongue. It's so sinful, yet it feels so right. Both of your tongues dance in and out of each other's mouths. He begins to unhook your bra and throws it across the room. Your nipples are ready for him to play with. He looks down, kissing your neck, your chest and then down to your right breast. Popping your nipple into his mouth he begins to circle around your nipple and with his other hand playing with the other. Your knees buck but you also wanted to do something for him.

You made him look at you. He was taken a back. A bit surprised as you slowly descend down on your knees. Seeing the tenting in his black slacks. You peer up at him, his face filled with amusement.

"I want to also make you feel good," you say.

He smiles, he decides to lean back into his own swivel leather chair, spreading his knees apart. Inviting you in. "Go on then," he says.

You crawl to him, a sight he was happy to see. Your plump bottom is in the air and way your breasts bounce. He wanted to just say fuck it, grab you and fuck you on the floor. But he knows with a woman like you, you need time and he was so willing to give you plenty.

You crawl and finally plant your knees on the ground. You fumble with his thin black belt and his zipper but you got it down. His thick long hard cock sprang out almost hitting his stomach from just the sheer length he had. You swallow, a bit intimidated on how it looks. He was most definitely bigger than anyone you've been with before.

"I want to taste you," you say to him, softly gripping his cock and pumping your hand up and down. He groans softly which only makes you so much wetter.

"Take me in that pretty mouth of yours then darling," he says leaning further back. You couldn't take it. You spit onto his throbbing cock and swirl your tongue around the tip. Just as he has done to you, you'll do to him. "Ah, fuck," he whispers. "Y/N, fuck."

You took him into your mouth as you could try to swallow as much as you could of him. You bobbed your head up and down, letting your tongue swirl around and your saliva dripping onto his pants. Namjoon was about to lose it. The sight of you was something to behold. He never thought a woman he had his eyes on for months is now under him, taking him so perfectly. Mine, mine, mine he thought to himself. She is mine.

He's groaning and it's making you so wet, you wanted him, you needed him inside of you and he could tell by the way your other hand has left his shaft and he can see you playing with yourself. Namjoon couldn't take it anymore. He grabs your face and lifts you up to kiss him.

You deepen the kiss and then bite his bottom lip. He takes a look at you, smirks and bites your bottom lip back and pulls, causing you to moan in his mouth.

He grips your bottom as he lifts you up onto the table with such ease you puts you into shock and excitement. He's towering over you, taking off his work jacket along with his silk black button up. His body is godly, tan and ripped and seeing his cock basically line up with your entrance is the only mental image you needed to save in your head. You could come from just the sight of him alone.

He slowly, yet softly pushes you down to lay on your back and hiking your legs on his shoulders. He leans down, your face to face with him.

"You're in charge here. Say the color red if you want me to stop or if I'm hurting you. Say the color green if I am good, okay baby?" he asks. You nod your head. "Use your words," he demands.

"Green, sir."

"Good."

He rubs himself against your entrance and you're just waiting, you moan and groan as for him to hurry up. He sees you're eager, so is he but he just wants to drink in every moment, every facial expression you're making . . . he wants to savor the moment he first enters you.

"Namjoon, make me yours," you say as you flutter your eyes towards him causing him to become painfully hard. He can't take it.

He slides in, causing your back to arch and ache against the wooden table. He's filling you to the brim with his cock. He's panting and looking down at your face. You want to turn away, embarrassed on how full you are but his eyes remain trained on you.

"What color baby?"

You moan out, "Green sir."

That's all he needs before he starts sliding in and out of you. He's picking up the pace and all you can feel is him, think of him and look at him. Namjoon filled your senses with just the idea of him. His hard thick cock rocking in and out of you causing your breasts to bounce in his face. With his hand he starts to pull and twist at one of your nipples causing you to moan out his name.

"Namjoon, fuck- please, more!"

He smirks, fucking you harder and faster pounding into your sweet pussy. Making the sweetest noise for him. He too is unraveling. He lets go of your nipple and runs his hands down your stomach and finds your clit again. "Come, come with me this time," he says, rubbing his finger over your clit.

You're turning red, spewing swears and having your eyes filled with just him. His black hair swinging over his brows and eyes as he's fucking into you cashing his own high. His plump lips being bitten down because all he can look at is you and your body.

He slides all the way in this time, hitting your cervix and you cry out. Back arching and toes curling. "Namjoon! I'm coming!" you scream. He leans over, shutting you up with a kiss and then he presses his forehead against yours.

"Come, come with me," he says not moving out all the way but moves so the majority of him is still inside and your clit is still being played with. He's groaning, moaning. "Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. You're a fucking dream. I can't wait to fuck you," he says, pushing deeper. "Over," he pushes further, "And over again," he finally says, groaning as you both have a wave of pleasure washed over you both.

You both are panting. His head buried in between your breasts, you chuckle. He looks up at you and smiles. You both share a quick kiss.

"I'm guessing, I'm having my lunch breaks in here from now huh?"

He smirks, appreciating your joke after the intensity you both shared. "I'd be damned if you start having lunch with another man," he joked back. "You're my pretty girl, mine now."

"What am I going to tell Jia now that I'm spending my lunch time with you now?"

He ponders for a moment and shrugs. "Oh, the lies we'll tell them, it's going to be fun and it'll be our little secret, darling."

#bts x reader #namjoon #namjoon x reader #bangtan #bts #knj x reader #RM #rm x y/n #knj smut #bts rm smut #bts rm x reader #bts rm imagine #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan fanfic #rm x reader #rm bangtan #kim namjoon

236 notes · View notes

loadednachosao3 · 7 months

Note

Any tips for someone who wants to get better at creative writing?

hoo boy there are a ton I could give! let's see if I can't think of some that might help!

first, read! read, read, read! read things you like, that engage you and make you feel something, and then read writing advice to figure out how to translate what you felt and what you liked into writing that makes someone else feel just as good (or sad, or angry, or whatever, LOL). Stephen King's book On Writing is a solid place to start -- learn from the people who have made writing their lifeblood! go to the library's 800s section and find all the writing tips books you can get your hands on! I STILL read those 19 years into writing!

don't try to edit while you write (small edits are fine so you don't forget them, but don't overdo it). remember: first draft, worst draft! the important part is getting the backbone of the scene down. once that's there, you can mix and match and scramble it up and change words and delete shit and do all sorts of things! I actually enjoy the editing process, since it makes everything come together. don't think "oh, this is so bad, I have to edit so much, I suck." try to frame it as, "damn, look how much writing I did! this is an awesome base to polish up! it's gonna be so rad once I correct these mistakes!"

on that note: there WILL be mistakes. you'll miss plot holes, forget shit, write stuff that doesn't make sense, whatever. beta readers are great for this, since a fresh set of eyes will be able to catch things you didn't. or do what I do: throw caution to the wind, post it, and if someone catches a mistake, say "oops!" and find a way to fix it, retcon it, or ignore it. either 1: you're writing fanfiction or something similar, so it really doesn't matter that much if you fuck up, or 2: you're aiming to be published, and an editor will help spot and fix those things for you anyway. don't let making mistakes discourage you, we all make them!

if you have tropes/character types/plotlines you like, don't let anyone stop you from writing them again and again. you know how many stories Stephen King writes about a writer from Maine with interpersonal issues who goes through supernatural shit? and look where he is! what you WANT to write will always be better than what you THINK people want to read! readers can sense passion. use that to hook them!

it is 100% okay to use your writing to work through things, on that note. encouraged, as a matter of fact! lots of great writers have underlying themes in most/all of their works. depression. substance abuse. daddy issues. optimism. pessimism. worldviews. whatever! doesn't have to be bad, but if it IS bad, writing is a phenomenal way to channel those feelings! don't let any shitty weirdo ever tell you anything else. projecting your emotions onto fictional characters is a very highly recommended therapeutic technique, so use it! (lbr, even if you don't do it consciously, you WILL do it subconsciously. sorry about that)

mmmmmblock out the haters! that is, don't let people tear you down and make you feel like you shouldn't write anymore! no matter your skill level, if you have something to say, something you want to see play out, make it happen. everyone else can suck a duck

figure out a plotting style that works for you. for some, it's a rigid outline with every conversation accounted for. for others, it's a looser one, some ideas and scribbled notes of general directions with the rest to be filled in as you go. for others still (this is mostly my style), you just start writing and see where it takes you. very chaotic, but very fun! I also like to have vivid daydreams sometimes and then just write them down. whether I do that or learn where the scene is going as my fingers are on the keys depends on the day. no method is better or worse, so do what feels right!

jot down inspiration in a notepad or on your phone or whatever's around as it comes to you. could be as simple as "this exchange I heard caught my attention" or "that gravestone has a badass surname I'd love to use for a character," or as complex as "I want to explore the themes of grief and trauma that that other book did, but with my own twist on it." a word. a color. a feeling. keep a list of everything that makes you want to write, and use it later!

if you really hate your first draft, scrap it! if you hate your second, scrap it! if you hate your third... you can always start fresh!!! don't sit around thinking, "aw beans, I couldn't get it right on the first try, I must not be a real writer." not every idea's gonna be a winner, not every scene is gonna work out! you gotta keep on keeping on, though! don't give up even if you hate it!!!

uhhhh that's all I can think of rn... the rest would be more stylistic/grammatical/nitpicky tips, which I CAN give, but maybe in a different post? let me know if you guys would ever like an insight into how I edit my stories with tips like that in mind, and maybe I'll make a lil guide!

but in general, yeah, those are my big, sweeping tips! hope they helped at least a little!

#ask tag #anonymous

10 notes · View notes

tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 5 months

Text

I enjoyed that latest Taskmaster episode a lot. I don’t know why I’ve hardly written any posts about this season since it started, as it’s been really good. Here’s a brief summary of my updates opinions four episodes in:

- The main thing I wanted for Nick was a chance to show off his magician-related skills. He got that chance in the tension task… it did not go as I’d predicted. However, he has made up for breaking my predictions by turning out to be the sweetest person in the world. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper cinnamon roll on Taskmaster. I think his gentle banter with Greg continues to be the funniest thing he brings, it’s delightful every time.

- Steve Pemberton won me over in the first couple of episodes, but then lost me pretty hard by admitting he broke that egg on purpose, I must admit I am now pretty focused on hoping he loses specifically as punishment for that. I got mad at him then for sacrificing the task in order to play to the TV edit/try too hard to be funny – he’s done similar things several times since, like imposing extra rules in the Mr. Blobby task and writing puns in the hand task. It is not in the spirit of Taskmaster! He’s probably basically fine but I want him to lose so that future Taskmaster contestants understand you do not come here to perform, you come here to play. I don’t even just hold that belief because of how competitive I am, I also think it’s much funnier if you let you and throw yourself right into the game, which he’s not quite doing, and it disproportionately annoys me.

- I find Sophie Willan’s unpredictability entertaining. Usually she’s shit at the tasks, and every once in a while she’ll be great. She has no idea what’s going on almost ever but apparently has a good eye for art. She talks to horses. She nearly drowns in a river that only goes up to her waist. She demonstrates sexy dances that literally no one asked her to do? She has never seen this show before. You never know what she’s going to bring to the table next.

- All right, Joanne McNally’s won me around. She went in with a significant deficit in my opinion of her because I say some quite shitty things on a different TV show once, but four episodes in, she’s been entertaining enough for me to forgive it (I mean… I don’t actually forgive the sentiment expressed, but I can decide I like her enough to choose to assume it was just a misguided attempt to be funny). She’s breathing life into tense situations and tension into situations where the task explicitly requests it. She’s also never seen the show before but she’s throwing herself all the way into it. She’s consistently funny. She’s sharp and knows what’s going on, task-wise, almost all the time, while making it look fairly effortless. She didn’t do the prep work but I respect that she still showed up to play.

- Well, we haven’t had the full-on meltdowns from Robins, but I kind of knew that would happen, as they caught him just as he was moving into his “sober and more enlightened” era. It will always be a loss that Taskmaster never cast Farthinggate-era Robins when they had the chance, but I’m actually surprised at how much I’m enjoying “on his best behaviour Robins”. Mainly because it is visibly incredibly difficult for him to not have competitive meltdowns and to play it as chill as he is (which still isn’t very chill, it’s just chill compared to what he used to be), and the tension of that difficulty can be very funny. Maybe it’s like how people trying to avoid swearing on the radio is funnier than just hearing them swear. I’ve heard John Robins have plenty of proper competitive meltdowns – it is a new and uniquely entertaining thing to watch him sit there and try to physically force every nerve in his body to not do that. A whole new level of the pointless intensity. Those team tasks especially have potential for it. Also, they’ve used the same joke several times now, but I don’t mind at all. They could keep implying that John’s fucked up a task and giving him time to panic before saying it’s fine – that might get old after 100 or so episodes, but 10 episodes wouldn’t be nearly enough for that to stop being funny. I’d be fine if they keep it up all season. I desperately hope he wins but I also hope they torture him.

I have to admit I may have got too into the competition too early in this season, because normally it isn’t until the last few episodes, if the scores are tight, when I start to get really concerned about whether it’ll end up going my way. But yesterday, while watching episode four, I found myself genuinely stressed during every task because of how much I want John Robins to beat Steve Pemberton. I mean, I want him to win, but I specifically want him to beat Steve Pemberton, because I do not want someone to get away with being smugly too good to throw himself entirely into Taskmaster. I’m too invested. I knew John had gone in one point ahead of both Steve and Joanne, and I was keeping score in my head throughout the episode, of how far each score led him to extend his lead over both of them. I don’t usually count points as the episode goes along until episodes 9 or 10.

Most tasks I’m less interested in John’s total score and more interested in his score relative to Steve. I realize Joanne is also competitive and a threat to win and I want him to beat her too, but I don’t think she’s as likely to win overall, she’s not as competitive in general and the only reason she’s so close to the top right now is she got a lucky 5-0 that’s not likely to repeat itself. Also, if she wins I’ll be disappointed, but not nearly as disappointed as I’ll be if Steve does.

Anyway, I thought episode 4 was great fun. It does feel a bit more “simmering” than some other Taskmaster seasons – I almost wrote “gentle” but I don’t think that’s quite true, because there seems to be a lot going on. It’s just not all being shouted the way it is in some seasons. I like it, I enjoy the unpredictable mystery of Sophie Willan and the incomprehensible charm of Nick Mohammed and the understated arrogance of Steve Pemberton (in a “fuck this guy but he makes a good villain” way) and the simmering anger of John Robins. Also Joanne McNally is there, cheerfully shouting whatever thoughts occur to her, and they’re almost always funny.

One note I do have to mention in writing a post about Taskmaster s17e04 – if you have a good friend who’s recently quit drinking due to quite a severe and life-ruining alcohol addiction, with rum as his drink of choice for a number of years, you should maybe not trick him into drinking rum on national television even if it’s non-alcoholic? Ed Gamble said on the podcast that he thinks the rest of them got regular rum and only John got special non-alcoholic rum, and I think/hope Ed was wrong about that, because you really shouldn’t trick people into drinking hard liquor at work even if they’re not alcoholics in recovery. Especially since any of those people could have gone all in and drank the whole glove for a laugh. Going out of their way to procure special non-alcoholic rum is a pretty weird thing to do when Ribena has been used on the show before and has to be cheaper/easier to find/avoids the thorny issue of alcohol altogether. I found it funny that they threw pickled onions in there, because anyone who’s listened to John Robins on the radio will know he’s obsessed with pickled onions; I figured Alex added that as a sort of in-joke with his friend, to the point where it’s almost unfair that by being friends with Alex, John gets an item on the task tailored to things he’s most likely to recognize. But Alex will also know that rum was John Robins’ drink of choice for a long time (I mean, I know it, so I'm pretty sure his real-life drinking buddy Alex Horne does), which sort of makes putting rum in the task look like an incredibly twisted and fucked up version of that joke. I'm sure it was just an oversight, but still, pretty big oversight. Even if they didn’t have an alcoholic in the cast, why bring alcohol into it at all when you could just use some other drink that starts with R?

Having said that, does anyone know if non-alcoholic whiskey can replicate the burning sensation of the real thing, or does it just try for the taste? Asking for a friend who's trying to give up whiskey but really misses it and specifically misses its burning qualities and that friend is me. I actually hadn't thought about non-alcoholic hard liquor until Alex mentioned it on the show, I just knew about non-alcoholic beer and wine. I might look into that. But anyway, they probably shouldn't feed it to people who are at work without warning.

7 notes · View notes

bonesandthebees · 6 months

Note

I care about Rose! In fact, we started watching house of dragon (only 2 episode so far though) and it constantly makes me think of Rose because you use it as inspiration. Like obviously there’s the coronation scene which reminds me of stars. And there’s the character Willum is sorta kinda inspired by. And it’s an entirely different world, but every time I’m drawn back to Rose wondering how things will play out. (Which is not pressure to finish writing it if you don’t want to. Writer’s block can be a bitch and I get that the motivation for this project has been sucked out, but I just want you to know that I still care, and I’m not the only one.)

Also, I’ve been meaning to start my Ready, Set, Detonate analysis but I keeps getting away from me. I’m not sure there will be much to analyse, but there’s definitely fun details I want to point out. Oh and I am Looking 👀 at the fit/pac tag and kicking my feet. I don’t actually know if they are already in a relationship (I’m sure we’ll find out, but I just loved Fit’s little “Pac’s here?” That man is gone. Oh and I’m so excited for this Tubbo and to read more Bagi and the lore. Just all of it.

Then the original writing is a mood. I keep getting like a few chapters into my story before deciding it’s not good enough or thinking of something else I could do and throwing it all out. It’s this constant loop that never seems to get anywhere even though the story gets more and more fleshed out in my head every time. I think it’s because the opportunities are endless. Like there’s no characters and personalities and dynamics to stick to like there is in fan fiction. It’s free game but that does mean you have to decide everything yourself.

Anyway, best original writing advice I can give is remember the drafting process. There’s going to be a shit ton of drafts, which feels different for you because you’ve been mostly writing stories and posting them as you go, which means some minor or major editing, but leaves you without a chance to do a once over. It’s a sort of pressure to get everything right the first time. Meanwhile, original writing is something you keep close to your chest. There’s different drafting stages ranging from the zero draft (aka excessive daydreaming about all the possibilities) to the final draft (where you just go through and kill all your darlings and pour over ever single word to find the right one).

I’m struggling a lot with the first draft, which is literally just getting words onto a page. It’s a somewhat coherent mess that just allows you to shape the story and its structure so you can work off of that and edit it later on. I don’t know if this actually helps, but yeah, the first draft sucks and then it mostly gets easier. Just write, is kinda shitty advice, but it’s mainly, just get words onto a page, you will get a million chances to fix it, you don’t need to be happy about what you wrote right now.

-🌲

ohhhh I'm so excited you've started watching hotd!! good timing since the second season is going to come out later this year :D I hope you enjoy!! and I'm so happy to hear you're still excited about rose. I definitely want to finish writing it, like I said it's just me worrying about if anyone will bother to read it but a lot of you have said you would so that helps assuage my worries a bit

feel free to send whatever random thoughts you have about ready set detonate you know idc if it's analysis or not I just love seeing peoples reactions!! fit and pac are not in a relationship (yet) in the fic but theres a lot of flirty pining going on lol

god yeah it's so much harder with original fiction because it feels like there's so much pressure. you have too much freedom to do whatever you want so you're constantly second guessing if it's good enough or not. and ofc I know rough drafts are supposed to be shitty but I've tried to hone my skills so that my first draft is always incredibly solid because I rarely have the patience to do heavy edits, but that's with fanfiction. it has to be different with original fiction I know but it's hard to make my brain okay with that. I keep feeling like it needs to be nearly perfect on the first run :( but yeah I'm mostly trying to get words on a page. but then I think back and realize I forgot to mention this or I need to mention more of that etc etc and it's just stressful arghhh

#ask #spruce anon

7 notes · View notes

bylertruther · 2 years

Text

the party + social media headcanons

mike would be a twitch streamer. certified #gaymer that'll play pretty much anything. malds real fucking bad (but not in a serious, toxic way just in a funny he's a sore loser that gets dunked on way) and gets baited by his chat all the time. definitely had a moment like this and when disaster struck he just immediately ended the fucking stream lmao. he let his chat bully him into the heart rate monitor challenge exactly one time and never again because they wouldn't stop teasing him over how it went up whenever will teased him during a multi-player game. he plays with the party a lot, but people are always asking will and max to come on because they loooove will and love how max roasts the shit out of him. will drew/made his subscriber emotes ofc. on his just chatting days they'll rank things, discuss the latest star wars hot topic, or talk about movies and the art of storytelling.

dustin mostly posts on youtube. he makes videos showcasing his peculiar inventions, some of which are actually really cool engineering feats and others are more like that of the "unnecessary inventions" guy's work. he's always super happy and excited about whatever he's doing and it's really contagious. he always explains everything thoroughly and titles his videos like so: SUPER COOL TITLE HERE (REAL) (NOT CLICKBAIT!). he includes a blooper reel at the end with the jokes that (rightfully) didn't make the cut.

will is an art (+gaming ofc) streamer! he streams himself drawing on twitch and it's really laid back. he'll be working away while the chat-created playlist plays in the background, looking up intermittently to see what people are saying. people like to donate or use their points to say silly things / use any of the sound effects to get his attention. he uses the Good, Professional footage to make a timelapsed video for his youtube, because twitch is just for chilling. stream titles are something like "draw with me!", "boys night", "it's a paint kind of day", or "parallel play? on MY stream? it's more likely than you think". mike hangs around a lot and el lurks. he always says hi to people and tries to answer as many of his chatters as he can. when he games he LOVES to play horror games in the dark, especially the shitty ones. he gets lots of views on those. but he plays mostly anything, too! like nintendo speedruns or he'll play smash with his viewers. he also vlogs sometimes for his youtube. just amasses little clips throughout the week or month or whatever and tosses them together for fun and to work on his more creative editing skills. he goes through his banned list on twitch and lets the community decide if they get unbanned or not like it's a court trial or something lmao.

lucas is an instagram baddie. he doesn't even try to be one, he just is. gets hella fucking likes and comments including these emojis: 😳🫠😍🔥. writes really sweet captions. makes stupid fucking bank on ads and promos. likes to post really embarrassing zoomed-in pictures of mike and dustin on his story when they hang out, then one of himself to even it out. you already Know he's got hella selfies with max and candid shots of her<3. he and will do cute poses whenever they snap a pic together, and there's a really cute snap of lucas and the twins where their cheeks are all squished together n they're cheesin' real hard (it was them out and about downtown). has a video where he makes a shot with his back turned and the entire party's going crazy cheering, shaking him, screaming, etc etc.

max would explode my head with her mind if she heard me say this, but she's also an instagram user. she posts lots of videos of her skating. she'll post her landing a new trick and then the 3984039 times she wiped out beforehand. also takes pics of her favorite tagger's (zombie boy) work. posts selfies where she's all scraped up after wiping out or where she's got a hello kitty band-aid on her face (courtesy of el, of course). a lot of her pictures are more artsy, like instead of taking a selfie, she'll take a picture of your shoes side by side, blurry candids of whoever she's hanging out with, or pictures of places she's been. doesn't always caption them, because she likes to be mysterious. replies to the party's comments and not very many other people's.

el is mostly the girl behind the camera. she takes a lot of max's videos and pictures, helps will set up his camera when he's doing a rare tutorial, and helps mike decide which picture to use whenever he posts something. still, she does her own thing, too! she loves to post her crafts on instagram and twitter. she makes jewelry and trinkets to sell on etsy. always takes pictures of her food, her good outfits, and herself. :) her instagram has a theme and she posts updates on twitter. she always likes the party's posts and comments on them. if she's lurking on someone's stream, she'll take a picture of her screen and text it to them with a random emoji. she also posts a lot of pictures of her friends with captions so sweet they'll make your teeth rot. she likes to take the party's phones and sneak a silly selfie of herself and never tell them about it lmao. takes a super zoomed in picture of you when you're not looking and texts it to you with "hi :)" attached.

byler-specific headcanons

will and mike are always on the same team if they can be.

they fucking DOMINATE at codenames, but e|max did sweep the floor with them in two rounds once which they claim was bc of cheating.

they also play lots of minecraft (yes they put their beds next to each other n share loot thank u) (and by "share loot" i mean mike drops cool shit for will and will drops bread n meat whenever mike is getting his ass handed to him). sometimes will walks up to him and mike pauses what he's doing to turn around and will just whacks him before running away or digging a hole beneath himself. will never drops anything valuable for him because every single time he's done it, mike goes and dies in the most stupid way possible right after lmao.

mike is one of will's mods and he'll ban anyone for anything.

will is one of mike's mods, too. sometimes he comes to mike's defense when ppl are clowning him, but other times he'll just make it worse by sharing an embarrassing anecdote<3 LMAO

if will is streaming, mike always chooses to raid him and it makes will smile and blush every time.

mike hates backseat gamers and it's a bannable offense for everyone except will ofc, who is coincidentally one of the worst backseat gamers of all time lmao.

will roasts mike's taste whenever he's ranking movies on stream. they get into it but come to an eventual compromise over star wars. will tells him he's hopeless n mike is trying to respond but the chat is going crazy with sound effects and spamming L in the chat which makes mike pretend to end the stream by putting his "thank you for watching" title card up on screen lmaoooo

#the party #byler hc #mine #talking 2 myself bc i like 2 have fun . and whatnot

72 notes · View notes