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#great ending for your book chuck
demcrazymandolin · 2 months
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I just finished season 5 of spn and I'm hip deep in tears and now I wanna kms 🙂👈
Why was this shit so emotional 🙃🙃
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transbookoftheday · 4 months
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Trans Mothman Books
Mothman is trans. Because I said so. (This is probably the most specific book list I have ever made and I absolutely love it.)
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Book Titles:
Dear Mothman by Robin Gow
How I Met Your Moth-er by Miranda Sapphire
Mothman Quarterback Ghost In My Tight End by Chuck Tingle
Mothman Did A Great Job Installing My Home Audio System And Now He’s Eating My Ass by Chuck Tingle
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spaceshipellie · 11 months
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we were never just friends
ellie williams x reader
part two (part one, part three, part four)
summary: modern!ellie, both in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years, their friendship has always been somewhat flirty but nothing has ever happened. not yet anyway…
warnings: smut at the end (18+ mdni), reader cheating on her gf with ellie, fingering (r receiving), oral (e receiving), fluff (e+r), angst (r+gf)
author’s note: i was screaming and kicking my feet writing this it was too much hsjxkdndbfx i hope you enjoy ♡
word count: 5k approx
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you could hear a banging. your head was smushed into the pillows and you were still half asleep. it took you a minute to come to and realise that the banging was knocking on your bedroom door. you groaned a sleepy “come in.”
ellie pushed the door open with two coffees in hand and came to sit on the end of your bed.
“morning.”
you mumbled a “morning” back as you rubbed your eyes and slowly sat up. you felt the duvet slip down and quickly remembered you went to bed only wearing panties last night.
“fuck,” your eyes widened and your hand slapped down on your chest to hold the covers in place, an embarrassed blush crept onto your cheeks.
“sorry, i didn’t see anything,” ellie laughed, handing you a coffee and chucking you a hoodie that was lying on the floor next to her feet.
“thanks,” you hugged the hot cup after pulling the hoodie on. you felt pretty hungover and dreaded to think what you looked like.
“why are you so chirpy this morning?”
“i’m not as much of a lightweight as you,” ellie smirked. you playfully rolled your eyes at her before checking your phone.
kate 🩵
8:39am
morning babe, how was your night? xx
you
9:02am
really fun thanks, did you wanna look at california plans today? xx
kate🩵
9:03am
aw good. yes, i can come over later xx
you
9:03am
come over whenever xx
you locked your phone and looked up to see ellie looking at you. she quickly averted her gaze to her hands holding the mug and started fidgeting with her silver rings. your eyes darted down to look at them too.
“what’re you doing today?”
“kate’s coming over later, we’re gonna look at booking a beach holiday in california somewhere,” you smiled, excited at the idea of lounging on a warm beach day in, day out.
“oh, nice. first holiday together?”
“yeah, pretty exciting.”
“yeah, very,” ellie half smiled, still playing with her rings. “how is she anyway? i haven’t seen her in ages.”
“she’s good, she works a lot so that’s probably why, but yeah good.”
there was a small pause before you spoke again.
“what about you? you been seeing anyone lately?”
her eyes snapped up to yours, smirking. “no, you’d know if i was.”
“i don’t know, you might have some secret double life i don’t know about.”
“actually yeah, it’s probably about time i told you,” she dramatically took in a breath, “i’ve been in a secret relationship with hayley williams for the past 6 years.”
“oh?”
“we’re actually married. that’s why we have the same last name.”
“i’m offended you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”
“it had to be private for…” she laughed and stammered, “top secret…security reasons?”
“too bad, i wish i was there to object.”
she leaned her body forward a bit. “what? for me?”
“no, for hayley williams you idiot.”
“right, right. makes sense,” her voice trailed off before she finally said, “ok, i better go. the band were really good last night.”
“yeah they were great! hopefully they’ll be there again,” you smiled up at her as she stood up to leave.
˚ · • . ° .
it was later in the day and you were sat on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table whilst kate sat next to you with her laptop open, browsing places to stay.
“ooh look at this one,” she said, turning her laptop towards you.
“oh my god it’s so beautiful, but probably too expensive for me.”
“well, we want to go somewhere nice though.”
“i know, of course, but something like this is just a bit too much out of my budget,” you said, feeling a bit embarrassed.
you knew kate made more money that you and was naturally more money orientated. of course, you were ambitious and cared about that sort of thing too, but you were more of a ‘rather be poor and happy than rich and sad’ person. kate on the other hand, was the opposite. you heard her sigh next to you and move her laptop back to keep scrolling.
“what?”
“nothing.”
“tell me,” you pried.
“it’s.. ah, it’s just that when i first brought up going to california you were so excited and now we’re actually looking at booking it, you keep saying no to things.”
you were a bit taken back. you didn’t think you were being negative about anything, you just genuinely couldn’t afford any of the options kate put in front of you. they were amazing but to put it bluntly, expensive as fuck. besides, anytime you put forward a suggestion, she found something wrong with it. it’s too far from town (meaning it was a 15 minute walk instead of 5), the beach looks boring, there’s not enough restaurants. you didn’t want to say anything, but it was starting to piss you off.
“i am excited. it’s just,” you sighed, “i just thought it mattered more that we had fun together, not having the fanciest hotel or whatever.”
“we’ll have fun, but i don’t want to go and stay in some shitty place.”
“i never said we should? we can still find a nice place.”
“then why do you keep saying no?”
“because i don’t have a bottomless pit of money?”
both your tones had shifted to annoyance. your body language had become more rigid and your brows were slightly furrowed.
“ok whatever,” kate sighed again, going back to her laptop, turning the screen as if she didn’t care if you could see it or not.
“no, sorry, why are you being weird with me?”
“i’m not being weird.”
you almost wanted to laugh.
“but, you are? you get mad at me for not having enough money and then just say ‘whatever,’ how does that help anything?”
she shut her laptop and turned to you.
“i don’t know what you want me to say, but maybe you need to start taking better care of your money or something so we can do things like this.”
“sorry, are you my fucking mother or something? i’m fine with money. sure, i have to save and budget and all that but who the fuck doesn’t?”
“i’m not trying to tell you what to do i’m just saying that it’s not a bad idea to think about earning more. it’s good to be ambitious, babe, and i know what you do doesn’t earn very much.”
she tried to put a hand on your knee but you shot up to your feet, starting to feel overwhelmed by how quickly this conversation had gone downhill.
“kate, you are literally telling me what to do. am i supposed to just sack my job in and do something i don’t care about just so that i can have more money?”
she looked up at you, a perplexed expression across her face. “why wouldn’t you want to get a bigger income?”
“it’s not tha–oh my god,” you felt like you needed to pace, adrenaline taking over you. “not everybody needs to be earning the biggest wage they possibly can, ok? don’t get me wrong, money is nice, i get that and i get that it’s very important to you, but i could never sacrifice my happiness for it, that’s just not me. i love what i do and you know that so don’t start trying to make me feel like it’s not good enough for you all of a sudden.”
she was silent for a moment, processing your rant. she looked away from you and you looked at her, trying to catch her eye again, anxiously waiting for her to say something.
“i gotta go.” she started shoving her laptop in her bag and stood up.
“what?”
“i think we need to take a minute before we look at this again, ok?”
you felt stupid. and you hated the fact that this made you feel stupid.
“ok,” you mumbled.
you stood there, dumbfounded. this was supposed to be a fun thing for you both to do together and before you’d even reached step one it had gone wrong. you understood that kate was a person who liked to climb the ladder and earn as much as she could and you were happy if that’s how she wanted to live her life. however, she couldn’t seem to accept the fact that you’re not like that. you enjoyed your job and admittedly, you weren’t anything close to rich but who cares? you enjoyed your life and that’s all that matters.
instead of sitting around feeling crap about yourself you decided to call ellie. it didn’t take long for her to pick up.
“hey.”
“hey.”
“everything alright?”
“yeah yeah, i just, um, what are you doing?”
“you ok? you sound upset.”
“no no, i’m fine els, i just…” you felt silly that you were nearly in tears right now but you couldn’t help it.
“are you at home? want me to come over?”
“only if you’re not busy.”
“i’ll be there in 10,” she practically cut you off.
“oh, ok. see you in a bit. thank you.”
“see you in a bit.” and she hung up.
you let out a shaky breath before deciding to wash your face and freshen up before ellie got to yours, not wanting to end up sobbing in front of her. sure enough, she was at your place in 10 minutes and when you opened the door she gave you a sympathetic look and pulled you in for a hug.
“what wrong?”
“it’s stupid.” your voice was muffled by her shoulder.
“i’m sure it’s not,” she said, pulling away and dragging you to sit down. you both sat facing each other, sideways on the sofa, one leg bent and the other hanging of the edge. she looked at you, waiting for you to speak.
“kate and i got into a fight about money and it just really pissed me off.”
“what did she say?”
“she was saying i need to be better with money and that i should earn more and all this bullshit. we were trying to book a hotel and we just couldn’t agree on anything so she just decided to leave and fuck,” you groaned, “it just wound me up.”
ellie listened intently, pausing before speaking to let you finish.
“what a fucking asshole.”
“ellie!” you slapped her leg lightly, trying not to smile. she laughed.
“what? it’s true. that’s a fucked up thing to say.”
“yeah,” your voice was quiet. she ran a hand through her hair.
“i mean who the fuck cares where you stay, more important to just be together, you know?”
“that’s what i said.”
you looked at her and you were both silent for a moment, the overwhelming cloud you felt before starting to evaporate.
“so, what are you gonna do?”
“i don’t know,” you sighed, “we’ll still do it, it was just a stupid fight but i guess we’ll have to compromise.”
ellie just nodded, puffing out her cheeks slightly.
“i hope i didn’t drag you away from anything.”
“aw no,” she waved her hand in dismissal, “was just at jesse’s.”
“no, ellie, i said don’t bother if you’re busy!”
“it’s fine, honestly. he understands and i didn’t want you to be upset.”
“you’re so sweet.”
“am not.”
“you so are.”
“i’m not sweet.” she hoped you couldn’t see her cheeks flushing pink. you could.
“you’re the sweetest to me.”
“ok, yeah, i mean,” she stumbled over her words, “i can be, but only for you.”
“see?” you grinned, putting your hands either side of her face and squeezing slightly. a breath got caught in her throat at you touching her. you let your hands fall down, landing on her knees.
“so,” you started, “you wanna make me feel better by letting me beat you at mario kart?”
˚ · • . ° .
two hours had passed of you and ellie sat on your floor, backs against the sofa, playing video games. kate hadn’t messaged or called. you hadn’t either, but honestly, you didn’t really know what to say. you were still a bit annoyed and wished she would apologise before you just let it slide. your mood had definitely improved though by having ellie around. you were scrolling through your phone whilst ellie was in the bathroom when a notification popped up from your groupchat with her and dina.
dina
4:47pm
bitchesss guess what
freya’s lakeside cabin is free next weekend and she’s invited you guys and kate to come with us
for free! it’ll just be food etc we need to buy
you
4:48pm
omg YES
tell freya thank you and i love her!!!
i’ll ask kate later
ellie
4:49pm
the perfect slasher movie location
sounds cool i’m in
dina
4:49pm
good! i’ll let you know more soon
ellie then emerged from the bathroom and sat back beside you. you looked at her like a kid in a sweet shop.
“how fucking cool is that!”
“i know, gonna be fun. typical that i’m fifth wheeling though,” she joked.
“oh you won’t be, dina and freya aren’t like that and me and kate are–“ you stopped yourself, “well, let’s see if she even comes.”
˚ · • . ° .
she didn’t. kate was working. which was fine, you thought. it was short notice and things were still awkward between you two. you felt terrible for it but you were kind of glad that it was just going to be the four of you. that way, considering everything recently, you knew it would be fun and stress free.
you could also do with a break from the strain of booking this california trip. in the end, you had booked a place. it was still too expensive for you really but you were getting tired of going back and forth, plus a compromise of some kind needed to be made and you were trying to be positive about it and not fuck it up further. after all, you were still looking forward to going away with your girlfriend for the first time and assumed that this dispute would soon blow over.
you lugged your bags out of the boot of freya’s car and followed everyone up to the front door of the cabin. you were surrounded by a huge lake, a dense forest and fields that spread themselves out for miles. was it the perfect location for a horror? yes it was, but you were going to have the best time here, you could tell.
“this is so fucking cool,” ellie said.
“thanks, it’s my sister’s and her husband’s technically but they let me use it a lot,” freya said.
she was a sweet girl, really kind and easy to get on with. dina had only been dating her for about 3 months but they were really cute together.
“thank you for inviting us,” you said.
“oh no problem, i’m glad you could make it.”
as freya held the door open for you all to walk through, she asked if you wanted her to give you a tour and show you where your rooms would be. thinking it was easiest to do that first you said yes.
the cabin was nothing short of stunning with its wooden beamed ceilings and open fire place. it also had a fire pit outside near the lake which you hoped you’d get to use. after being shown the bedrooms you dumped your stuff in yours. ellie’s was opposite and dina and freya were in the master bedroom a bit further down the hall. you sent kate a quick message to say you’d arrived safely and started unpacking things like your face wash and toothbrush. you didn’t bother unpacking your clothes seeing as you were only here for two nights. you heard talking downstairs so left your room to join them.
“what did you guys wanna do first?” freya asked you all.
“i really want to go swimming in the lake,” dina suggested, “if you guys are up for that.”
“yeah sounds fun.” you looked at ellie.
“yeah sure.”
you went back upstairs to change into a bikini and also grabbed a towel, some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to throw on after. joining the others downstairs, dina and freya already nearly out the door, you couldn’t help but look at ellie. she was wearing loose shorts and a sports bra style bikini top.
“you’ve got a new tattoo,” you said, touching her upper arm softly as you looked at it.
“got it a couple months ago,” she watched your face.
“you’re so secretive.”
she just laughed and shrugged, muttering “come on,” before holding the door open for you.
it was late in the afternoon and the sun was still warm but not too hot, and you still had a couple hours left of daylight.
shrieks met your ears as dina and freya jumped off the edge of the little wooden platform into the water. you put your stuff down on a chair round the fire pit, where they’d put theirs and ran excitedly to the edge.
“you jumping in?” you said, turning to ellie.
“maybe.”
“if you don’t, i’ll push you,” you teased, grabbing her shoulders. she laughed and her hands flew to yours, scrambling to grab them to prevent you from pushing her off the edge.
“don’t you fucking dare.”
“i will.”
“i know you will.” her body twisted trying to grab your wrists, fighting against you pushing. she tried to ignore how your boobs pressed into her. before you knew it, you were falling and crashing into the cool water. you came back up, flapping your arms and rubbing water out of your eyes screaming, “ellie!”
she was still standing on the edge, hand over her mouth, doubling over in laughter.
“i’m sorry!”
“no, you’re not.”
“no, i’m not.”
you could hear dina and freya laughing in the background which made you turn. a huge splash of water suddenly came over your head as ellie jumped in.
“fucking hell, are you trying to drown me?”
“yes.”
“charming.”
you could see dina and freya kissing so you made an ‘oop’ face at ellie and you both laughed. the sun was really bringing out her freckles. she’d always get weird if you ever called her pretty, but it was only the truth. she was pretty, and you’d always thought so.
the four of you swam around leisurely, talking about this and that for a while before deciding to get out. it was starting to get dark so freya turned on the outdoor fairy lights that were draped in a tree near the fire pit.
you all took turns using the downstairs shower and grabbed a couple of beers before sitting around the fire you had started.
“so, anyone got any ghost stories to tell?” dina joked.
˚ · �� . ° .
you all talked for what felt like forever, laughing until your stomachs ached. the conversation now had seemed to split off though into you and ellie, whilst dina and freya giggled and blushed, dina’s legs thrown over freya’s lap.
“ok well… we’re gonna go to bed,” dina said, grabbing freya’s hand. you could see them smiling into kisses as they reached the front door.
“oh! young love,” you declared jokingly and ellie laughed.
“you wish kate was here?” she asked.
you paused, thinking.
“things are still a bit awkward between us, is it bad that i’m kind of glad she isn’t?”
you toyed nervously with the hair tie on your wrist. ellie shifted in her seat, mouth moving as if to speak but stopping herself, thinking of something better to say.
“if you’re happy then i don’t think it’s a bad thing.”
you smiled at her. her eyes bore into you and she almost looked nervous, her hands fidgeting with her rings.
“i am happy right now,” you voiced.
“good.”
there was a moment of peaceful silence between you before you suddenly jumped up and grabbed her hand. she looked up at you, waiting.
“look at the stars with me? seeing as we’re here.”
her eyes softened, a doting smile covering her face as you both laid down on the ground, staring up at the dark night sky.
“it’s beautiful,” you whispered.
“it is.”
“we should go.”
“where? to space?”
“no, to starbucks,” you quipped, “yes to space!”
she turned her head to look at you, looking at the sky. she admired the glint in your eye and the way your cheeks looked when you smiled. her voice was hushed and soft.
“i’ll take you.”
you turned your head to look at her.
“how will we get there?”
“i’ll build us a spaceship.”
“oh with your excellent handyman skills?”
“yeah,” she laughed, “with my excellent handyman skills.”
“can it have a mirrorball inside? ooh and a record player and–and a mini bar.”
she laughed at your ridiculous requests for this hypothetical spaceship.
“it can have whatever you want.”
she bit her lip. your smiles faded as you looked at each other, taking in each other’s features under the dim moonlight. maybe that one beer had hit you too hard or maybe it was just the atmosphere of being at a lakeside cabin, but you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach flipped as ellie looked at you.
“well,” your voice accidentally came out a bit shaky, “it sounds almost too good to be true.”
she propped herself up on her forearm, now looking down at you as she laid on her side.
“does it?”
you slowly nodded your head and your eyes must have darted between her eyes and her lips because she leaned in, as if to test what you would do.
you shocked yourself when you lifted your head slightly, causing your noses to graze each other. your lips then ghosted over each other for a moment, both unsure if you should keep going. your brain felt foggy and you couldn’t think about anything else but her.
then, just as you thought you must have blacked out and were dreaming, she pressed a soft kiss to your lips and your body melted into the ground. it was sweet and delicate. her hand came up to hold the side of your face and yours held onto her arm. everything felt right and your earlier statement still held it’s truth, you were so happy but—
“oh my god,” you freaked, gripping her shoulder. not to push her completely away, just enough to stop the kiss.
“what am i doing?” you brought your other hand to your lips, touching them.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” ellie sighed and she moved off of you.
“no, i’m sorry. i’m the one with–“ you quickly sat up, feeling a wave of anxious nausea.
“i’m the one with a girlfriend.”
she sat up next to you, arms resting on her bent knees.
your brain was going a million miles per hour trying to process everything. one, you had just kissed your best friend, two, you had just cheated on your girlfriend and three, you had just fucking kissed your best friend! ellie! the girl you’d been close to for years and nothing had ever happened. the girl who knew you better than anyone else, warts and all. the girl who a part of you wished was still kissing you.
“let’s just forget it happened,” she sounded defeated but she was probably right.
“yeah, yeah ok,” you agreed, trying to convince yourself that this was fine, “maybe we should just go to bed.”
she nodded and you both stood up, brushing some grass off of your ass before you both slumped towards the cabin.
“after you,” she mumbled, opening the front door. you whispered a thanks before you both ascended the stairs, trying to be quiet so you didn’t disturb dina and freya. you reached your doors, which were directly opposite each other. you looked at each other for a moment before you awkwardly poked her in the arm.
“ok then… night, ellie.”
you turned to open your door but suddenly felt a hand grip your arm. the pull forced you to spin around to face her, her other hand catching your waist and pinning your body to hers.
her hasty lips caught yours in another kiss, your hands flew to her hair and shoulders. this kiss was a far cry from the sweet one you shared outside. it was hungry and frantic.
you broke for air, foreheads pressed together, hands still holding each other close.
“let’s not think about it,” she said breathlessly. you couldn’t think anyway. you just nodded your head and pulled her into another open mouthed kiss.
she felt for your bedroom door handle behind you and pushed you into the room, immediately collapsing on the bed. the room was only illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. her body weight pressed into you as she deepened the kiss.
eagerly, she started unzipping your shorts making you buck your hips up. she shoved them back down with her hand forcefully and resumed pulling your shorts off. you blushed in embarrassment at how wet you already were and her finger tips fluttered at the waistband of your underwear.
“can i touch you?” she asked, her voice low.
“please.”
she wasted no time in bringing a finger down to press on your clothed clit. you moaned loudly, suddenly slapping a hand over your mouth.
“you gotta be quiet, baby.”
you frantically nodded, desperate for her to continue. she could feel the wet patch you had made and smirked to herself, pulling your underwear to the side and glided her middle finger through your slick folds.
“so fucking wet already,” she groaned. her finger collected your wetness before making slow, barely there circles on your clit.
“who is that for?” fuck you, you thought.
“y-you, ellie.”
her touch on your clit was so light it was making your body jolt at the sensitivity. your lips were parted and hers were ghosting over them, refusing any attempts you made at chasing a kiss.
she suddenly slid two fingers deep into you, restricting your moan with a hard, sloppy kiss. she moved them in and out a few times before curling them and hitting that spot over and over.
you whimpered when you felt her hand suddenly disappear but all she was doing was impatiently yanking your underwear off, muttering a “fuck” under her breath, before resuming her relentless pace.
she kissed you again to keep you quiet, as she quickly pulled her fingers out to rub circles on your clit and giving it a few taps before slipping them back inside.
your hands didn’t know what to do with themselves so with her free hand she grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it against the bed next to your head, using that along with her knees to hold herself up.
“oh fuck,” you cried.
“shh shh shh, i got you.”
your head was digging so hard into the pillow and you could feel yourself about to come. ellie could too by the way you clenched tightly around her.
“you gonna come, baby?”
you stumbled out a “yes” and lifted your head, begging for a messy kiss whilst she fucked you through your orgasm.
when you let out a soft sigh and your body relaxed, she kissed you on the forehead and slowly pulled her fingers out.
you looked up at her, feeling exhausted and in awe of the sight above you. you honestly felt drunk, even though you weren’t. she lifted her cum coated fingers up near your face and looked at them, not being able to decide whether she wanted to put them in her mouth or yours. you answered for her by taking her hand and swirling your tongue around her fingertips, before sucking them in completely.
“fuck,” her voice was quiet and husky, intoxicated by the way your pretty lips wrapped around her fingers. your eyes looking up at her at the same time nearly made her come in her boxers.
she was so mesmerised by you she didn’t even realise at first that you were sitting up, letting her fingers go with a pop, and shifting so that you were on top of her.
once her back hit the bed her hands went to your hips as you straddled her lap.
you pulled your t-shirt off, leaving you completely naked whilst she was still fully clothed. she practically gulped at the sight of your tits now on full display, a giddy smirk creeping onto her face. you trailed your hand down to the neckline of her t-shirt and tugged it. she got the message and took it off, throwing it across the room, not allowing her eyes to leave you for a second. your fingers traced over her nipple and down her stomach for a second making her flinch. you smiled to yourself and leant down to kiss her. her hands caressed your hips as you left kisses down her neck and then her stomach.
once you reached the waistband of her shorts you paused and looked up at her.
“can i?”
she nodded and you pulled her shorts and boxers down in one go, nestling yourself between her legs. you pushed her legs apart and licked a line up her cunt. she was also completely soaking, your tongue collecting the sweet taste when you started swirling it around her clit.
she grunted, gripping your hair in one hand. you worked your tongue around until she was basically shoving your head deeper into her.
“you taste so fucking good.”
she couldn’t help but grind herself against your tongue. but then you slipped a finger in and she was gone.
“oh god.” her voice was quiet and shaky.
you didn’t move your finger in and out, just curled and flicked it slowly whilst you continued assaulting her clit. soon enough she was gripping your hair tighter and coming on your tongue. she quickly pulled you up by your hair and slammed you into a kiss.
her hands grabbed your waist and she turned you both and pinned you to the bed again. she supported her weight on her forearms and looked down at you. you both stared at each other for a moment, slightly panting before you both burst out laughing.
she quickly put a finger on your lips and your hands flapped trying to cover her mouth as you both shushed each other.
she rolled off of you and laid on her back. you both slowly turned your heads to each other, again trying to stifle a laugh.
“what the fuck have we done?”
♡♡♡♡♡♡
tag list: @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @robinismywifee @gold-dustwomxn
an: sooo the hallway kiss was inspired by nick and jess in new girl… let me know what you think of this part!! 💜
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bvclee · 5 months
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high school sweetheart.
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sypnosis: you had a crush on a girl that never seem to noticed you, so your friends and yourself had the great idea that you probably should write her letters until the ski trip, too bad you've mistaken her locker with jang wonyoung's, the most popular girl in school.
warning: maybe kind of social anxiety (?), not really but enemies to lovers.
(sorry for any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!)
genre: fluff, maybe a little angst.
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ever since you came into high school, you catch yourself staring at An Yujin, the volleyball team's captain. your friends were quick to noticed how you would ramble about her, pure admiration filling your voice.
she was sat next to you in math and would explained you what you weren't understanding, you swore you fell in love, but she never seemed to care more than that.
"—you're so right ! she will like me with that." you affirmed as Rei raised an eyebrow at you.
"are you really sure this gonna work?"
"well, people like poetry!" you defended yourself as Gaeul giggled leaning back on her chair.
"what do you mean? how laufey and pinkpantheress' lyrics are supposed to be poetry-?"
"it is!" you cut off Rei, making the one that gave you the idea giggled once again.
the canteen was pretty loud. you never really liked loud places, it made you uncomfortable and tense.
Jang Wonyoung, high school sweetheart.
it would be a lie if she said that she don't received love confessions in her locker every weeks. in fact it was very common for her.
but this time it was beyond different.
she couldn't help herself but smile, that's when one of her friend pointed it out.
"that's laufey lyrics! i love laufey!" Liz exclaimed as Wonyoung took back the letter as soon it left her hand afraid it would be tear apart.
Leeseo raised an eyebrow as she tried to remember who kim y/n was.
"ooh! i know her!"
her?
Wonyoung eyes widened, she didn't noticed the name before. it was the very first time a girl ever confessed her love to her.
"who's she?"
"that's Yujin-unnie's math seat mate. the one that she helps a lot but ends up with perfect grades."
"i thought she had a crush on Yujin?" Liz questioned confused as she tilt her head towards the youngest.
Leeseo took out her phone as she showed the tallest your instagram.
"send me her profile, need to stalk her highlights." Wonyoung announced as Liz let out a scoff in slight shock.
it wasn't unusual.
"Yujin was smiling a lot more! it totally worked! guys im telling you this is working." y/n said as Gaeul shook her head smiling.
Rei thought a moment before heading her a piece of paper out of her bag.
"then write a new quote!" Rei said supportively as she placed a pencil on the offee table in front of her as she let herself fall onto Gaeul's couch.
Gaeul's parents had always good taste, it wasn't a surprise for them to have a living room this comfortable and welcoming.
Rei liked it.
you thought for a moment before writing the quote not minding Rei's curious glares nor Gaeul reading out loud as you were writing. the green pencil slipping on the sheet as your focus face made the girls smile at you. it was cute how involved you were.
"i'm doing it until the ski trip and then confess, easy-peasy!" the two girl sitting in front of you shared a glare before bursting into laughter.
you gave them a stare as they calmed down smiling like two idiots acting like nothing happened as if they didn't just made fun of you for being a little too corny.
"yah! it's not funny!" you hit Rei's shoulder with the nearest book you could laid your hand on when you heard her chucked silently.
Yujin smirk once again trying to reach the letter, an eyebrow raised at her volleyball teammate.
"come on, let me see! as your captain, you must–."
"it has nothing to do with volleyball!" Wonyoung defended herself as she gazed another time on the note you slid into her locker once again.
after a few more begging and whining, Wonyoung gave in as she hand the paper at Yujin. her eyes drifting from the hallway as she saw you walking with your friends.
you took a quick glance at Yujin as you watched her passing the note to Wonyoung, your face remaining confused as you let yourself drag you away an unreadable expression on your face.
in reality you were jealous, why would Yujin pass your ´love letters' to Wonyoung. why were Yujin smiling like that? was it because of you or Wonyoung's perfect annoyed face?
Wonyoung's orbits widened as she hit Yujin on the shoulder panicked.
"the fu-? what was that?" the volleyball captain rubbed her arm glaring at Wonyoung.
"she saw us!"
"who–?"
"Y/n! she looked hurt!" Yujin rolled her eyes and hit the popular girl with the same among of strength she received a while ago.
"maybe she thinks you're making fun of her, you should probably write some notes with lyrics or poems or whatever back at her."
Wonyoung froze for a second before smiling placing her hand on Yujin shoulder.
"you're a genius."
you kept this little game between you two going, it was now time for the ski trip and you were impatient.
when you entered the bus, you expected Yujin to wait in a seat alone like 'she' mentioned in her letter, you were quit surprise to see her seating with Liz already sharing some snacks.
"y/n, please sit down." your teacher said as every eyes in the bus fixed their stares on you.
you never liked loud place and full of people. like the bus. you hated school trips if you weren't sat down next to someone you knew.
as you were about to protest an angelic voice offered you a sit with an hesitant smile.
Jang Wonyoung, high school sweetheart.
the one you probably tell your children's about even if she was just your friend, your classmate or hallway crush.
you sat down immediately scared of the stares on you glaring at your hands wrapped around your bag.
"miffy." you turned your gaze to meet the most beautiful smile you've ever laid your eyes on.
"excuse me?"
"oh, i meant i like your miffy plushie." she explained referring to the small stuffed animal hanging on your bag.
"thank you.." you replied nervously eyeing Yujin from the corner of your eyes.
Wonyoung was nervous and came to the conclusion you were probably nervous too so she took out a piece of paper and write down something as she placed it between your hands.
confused you read the note, you couldn't help a slight smile drawing itself on your face as you replied.
"snow!" someone exclaimed really loudly as you tried to watch by the window getting closer to Wonyoung involuntarily.
"you're pretty as the snow." she blurted out without warning as you look at her like you've misheard what she said.
you just smiled and took out your earphones as you were about to play on laufey, she remembered the very first note you send her.
remarking the way she was intrigued by the song playing in your earphones, you offered her one of your airpods as you both listened to your playlist in silence.
Rei and Gaeul shared a look confused.
Liz and Leeseo also shared a look, but it was totally different. it was a knowing look. both of them smirking quickly taking a pic.
people in the van were quick to notice Wonyoung's way to look at you. it wasn't ordinary that she sat with someone else than her friends.
"Wonyoung? how?" Rei and Gaeul asked at the same time both of their face holding once of mixed up.
"i don't know.. she just offered."
As Gaeul asked many questions, Rei analysed Yujin's group expression as they were watching you as Wonyoung talk.
'she has a crush on, y/n.' Rei came to this conclusion as she remembered everything that happened this past few months.
what if y/n were talking with Wonyoung instead of Yujin? Rei rejected this idea, fully listening to your rambling about every little detail that happened.
"you should confess." Yujin said wrapping her arms around Wonyoung's shoulder.
"what if-"
"she already likes you!" Leeseo argued back groaning at her friend.
the snow weren't falling but the ground were full of it, white snow spread everywhere recovering the grass a little.
the mountain covered too.
you heard a knock on the door, it was past the bedtime.
you opened unsure as you recognised Wonyoung's figure in the slight dark as she smile.
"it snowing. wanna walk around together?" she asked holding her gloves nervously but she seemed totally confident.
you glanced behind as Rei nodded multiple times and Gaeul just looked not understanding the whole situation as lost as you.
"wait, let me put on my coat." you replied, closing the door behind you.
you looked petrified.
"what's going on!?" you whispered-yelled, panicking.
"just go! Wonyoung seemed to be into you-"
"dont say things like that. she obviously likes Yujin too. she's like my enemie."
"a friendly enemie then." Gaeul joked, earning a slight scoff from the other one.
after what seemed an eternity, you finally showed yourself back ready to walk out.
it was quiet, a little cold but peaceful.
"i enjoy quiet things.."
Wonyoung nodded, she already knew that. you already told her in a note of yours. that's why she offered you a walk at night.
the snow hitting your shoes as you walked both of your hands inside your pockets.
she sighed as she stopped walking.
"i like you too." she confessed as your turn away.
"huh?"
"i like you too." she repeated.
you looked around maybe thinking that Yujin was too nervous to say it so she sent Wonyoung.
"does Yujin sent you?"
"pardon me?"
a weird atmosphere took place over your heads, it wasn't calm and peaceful, it was now tense and electric. like a bomb waiting to explode.
"the lyrics notes you sent me-"
"i didn't sent those to you." you harshly let out without thinking about your tone twice.
then it hit both of you at the same time. like connecting the dots together.
you realised you've been sending all these cute things full of love to the wrong person. to Jang Wonyoung, your friendly enemie.
silence.
dead silence.
"i'm sorry–." you tried to explained yourself out of this big misunderstanding.
"i'm so stupid." she murmured to herself, tears forming into the taller eyes.
"sorry, y/n. i won't be taking to much on your time anymore." she kept her head low avoiding your eyes.
shame.
she throw a paper away, leaving you alone under the lights of a street lamp apologising once again almost running away from you.
you didn't move, you just kneel down to pick up the piece of paper and your heart broke when you met your handwriting.
laufey lyrics, your very first note.
"Wonyoung!" you called as if she was still there but she was no longer in sight, probably running to her dorm.
and she had.
walking back to your dorm like a lost puppy, not knowing how to feel. you were sure of one thing, you didn't like Yujin anymore, at least not as much as you thought.
when you entered the dorm, Gaeul and Rei almost ran to you with big smirks as tears formed into your eyes.
the dorm was mostly in brown and pale blue tone, you liked it, it was welcoming.
"i've been sending letters to her. she likes me." you said between cries.
you weren't sure about the reason of your crying, maybe it was the disappointment of not winning Yujin's heart or breaking Wonyoung's heart. or maybe it was both or none.
Gaeul let you cry on your shoulder, she didn't saw that coming but Rei did. she knew something was off, she just decided to ignore it from the beginning.
"but you like Yujin?"
"i don't know! i like the person i wrote to, because Yujin was just a slight crush before the notes. i grew to like her because of those."
Rei sighed and caressed your back as you cried.
"you like Wonyoung's personality with Yujin's face." Rei tried to explained.
this whole month you've been dreaming of dates with Yujin, but she wasn't the one you truly like. she wasn't the one that truly liked you too.
you wiped your tears away.
"i like Wonyoung. i want Wonyoung." you sternly said determinedly.
"but–."
she avoided you all week.
ski trip was almost over and even if you made a promise to yourself to confess to Yujin, now it was different since the Yujin you liked, was Wonyoung. you had to confess to Wonyoung.
"it's impossible to find you at day." you said as Wonyoung turned around in shock as she stood up from the sofa in the hostel's living room.
"what are you doing here–?"
"Yujin told me you would be here." you simply answered making your way closer to her.
she felt chest getting heavy, ready for any kind of rejection. she was ready for your yells and cries and whatever you were about to throw her.
you took a deep breath.
"i think i like you. i fell for the person i wrote to this past few months."
"but, you liked Yujin."
"i did, i thought i did. but it wasn't as much as i was supposed to like her after this whole letter thing. so it means i like you."
"y/n–"
"i like you, im sure. i've never been more sure." Wonyoung didn't know where the confidence came from but she was kinda liking it.
silence.
it was different from last time you two had a silence between you two, this one it was pure of another kind of tension.
you walked closer.
"look how much i like you." you grabbed her by the collar, and you crashed your lips onto hers.
she kissed back with passion and hunger, like she had been craving for your lips. it was slow yet meaningful. her hands caressing your waist as you let her.
"this is how much i like you too."
and you did it, confess before the end of ski trip. but you did it to Wonyoung instead.
Jang Wonyoung, your sweetheart.
BONUS: first and last notes you sent her !!
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love4thetinas · 4 months
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INKED ( Pt. 1 ) - a jake webber story
summary: jake is in need of a new tattoo artist, and he thanked his lucky stars to be blessed with such a beautiful one.
WARNINGS: slight spiciness, mentions of needles, idk just a bunch of flirting
4.4k words
┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐
Jake was an addict.
Well, a tattoo addict. He would get at least one new tattoo pretty much every week. He loved looking at himself in the mirror after a shower, admiring the myriad of small colourful drawings along his arms. His roommate, Johnnie, even walked in on him doing this the other day and saw him flexing in the mirror - a story they both agreed would stay strictly between them.
But unfortunately, his usual artist closed up shop in the last month, and he was craving another fix of ink on his skin. So he searched around for a new one to fulfil these needs of his.
He opened up Google on his phone - ‘tattoo artists near me’ - and checked the first few results and their reviews.
The first two looked pretty decent, however, there were some mixed reviews about either the cleanliness and/or hospitality. Jake figured that if he was going to get stabbed a few thousand times, it might as well be in a nice enough place.
So he checked the third one.
It was close (only about a 10-minute drive), the photos on their website and Instagram looked awesome, and it had almost perfect reviews:
‘Brilliant work! Will definitely come back’
‘Incredibly talented artist, well done’
‘Friendly, hospitable environment 5/5’
“Hm,” he hummed to himself, going to check their prices which turned out to be reasonable as well.
DM FOR SAME DAY BOOKINGS
‘Perfect!’ He thought as he followed the link on their website to the shop’s Instagram, crafting a message to send.
Hi there, I want to get a couple of tattoos done and was wondering if you had any slots free today ?
He sat with the chat open for about a minute, crossing his fingers as he waited.
But soon he saw three dots appear by his keyboard.
Manager here, of course! We’d love to take your booking,
But just a couple of things before i put you down, can you give a rough idea of what tattoos you’d like and where you would like them?
“Yes!” Jake cheered for himself in a whisper, punching the air in front of him triumphantly before he replied.
I was thinking just some red and black stars on my lower lower stomach? Maybe like 3 on each side if that’s alright?
Jake responded hesitantly, hoping there would be enough time for him available since he didn’t want to have to come back on another day. But his fears were settled promptly,
Perfect. That’s all fine to go ahead, I actually have a slot for you myself at 3:15 this afternoon if that works for you? You’ll have to put down a small deposit and then you pay the rest in full once it’s all done :)
They sent over the transfer details.
He checked the time at the top of his screen, 11:42, he had plenty of time to get ready and he didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. Looks like he would be coming home with yet another colourful trophy on his skin to show off to all his friends and fans.
Awesome, that sounds great thanks a lot man! I’ll pay you now
He replied happily as he walked up to his room, watching as they typed on the other end.
No problem, see you later :)
He huffed a breath out of his nose at the little emoticon smiley face; who would’ve thought a tattoo artist would text so cutesy?
Later that day Jake got in his car, ready to drive over to the studio, quickly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and chucking on one of his Spotify playlists before he set off. The address was on their website and he put it in his phone for directions.
After roughly 3 songs had finished he spotted the shop, going to park up on the curb across the street. But as he went to open his door he noticed that it was still only 3’o’clock and he had maybe been a little bit eager with the time he left the house, so he went and got himself a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and had a cig outside while he waited.
But as soon as the time on his phone ticked over to 3:15, he was up there.
He looked around the room where there were three other people he could see getting tattooed. The walls were covered in posters and graffiti, loud music playing over the noise of the tattoo guns and artist/client chatter - it was like some sort of vintage, punk hangout, except it was most likely a lot more sterile and visibly a lot cleaner.
Jake walked up to the counter where he figured he was supposed to wait for the guy he spoke to on Instagram to come meet him.
His foot tapped nervously on the ground as he waited. Tattoos didn’t usually scare him, but it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to this new environment and artist. But he was sure it would be fine, they sounded nice enough over text.
A door opened up towards the back of the space from what he assumed was one of the private rooms and a guy and a girl came out, both covered in tattoos, chatting as they made their way to the front of the store.
But to Jake’s surprise, it was the girl who came up to the desk to greet him.
“Hiya,” she said with a closed-lipped, pierced smile, “How can I help you?”
“Uh…” Jake stuttered, he was always prone to that, but especially now, talking to her. “I’m Jake? I messaged your guys’ manager earlier for an appointment at 3:15?” he confirmed as she looked up at him from over the desk.
“Oh perfect!” she exclaimed, “I’m Y/n, the manager.” she clarified.
“Now, we don’t have any more space out here so we’ll have to be in one of the private rooms towards the back, is that alright?” she asked, gesturing to where she had just come from as she started to walk back out from behind the counter, but Jake didn’t hear a word she said.
He felt bad for even thinking it, but he expected some sweaty, bearded biker-dude to be the manager of this place. He was taken back as soon as she had told him otherwise; not in a sexist way or anything, but the image he conjured up in his head beforehand could not have been more different to the woman before him.
She was quite frankly gorgeous. Dare he say it the most gorgeous girl he’d ever met. And she was so… cool, you know?
With black hair, a few piercings, and some tattoos visible on her forearms and collarbone, and as she turned around to lead him away he noticed the small one behind her ear. Not to mention her fashion sense. But it was the way she carried herself that really drew Jake in.
Not once did she break his eye contact, not once did she walk without a strut in her step. Not once did she falter in any way.
“Uh- Sorry, what did you say?” he laughed nervously, having been too distracted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as she turned back to face him.
She laughed as well, only for a second, but that was enough for Jake to decide that it was the prettiest laugh he had heard in his life. But he forced himself to snap out of it this time for he could not ask her to repeat herself for the second time.
“I said we’re gonna have to go in one of the private rooms at the back ‘cause there’s no space out here,” she motioned to all the occupied seats. “Are you okay with that?”
“Oh!” he managed to hear her this time and nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he smiled widely.
And gosh, was Y/n just trying to stay professional.
She hoped that her client didn’t pick up on the way her eyes scanned his body when she walked up to him, or how her stomach flipped as he ran up beside her and she saw how tall he was, or hell, how good he smelt.
“So,” she started to make conversation as she led him towards the door to the private tattoo room, “how’s your day been so far?”
Jake's ears perked up at the sound of her voice once again, snapping himself out of a daydream to answer the question, “Alright. Yeah, it’s pretty good.”
His smile. Fuck, his smile.
“And you?” he returned as they got up to the door which was slightly ajar so he skipped in front of her and held it open, like a proper gentleman, waving a hand for her to go inside as if to say ‘after you.’
Y/n giggled to herself under her breath as she followed him through the door, taking over to close it behind them, turning back to face him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Same old same old,” she answered his question with a shrug, “but it’s not too bad.” she smiled.
“Take a seat in my office,” she laughed and gestured towards the tattoo bed as she sat down in her own chair beside it.
“Cozy office,” he matched her energy after looking around the room and taking note of the decor, picking up the pillow that lay at the head of the bed and fluffing it a bit, then holding it on his lap.
“Thank you,” Y/n said quickly as she took the iPad from off the table next to her, along with the stylus, and opened up a drawing pad. “So, you said you wanted some stars, yeah?” she looked up at him.
He nodded as he peeked over to see her screen.
“Sick. Alright, can you show me where?” she asked while once again making the same eye contact, tilting her head to the side and resting the end of the stylus on her teeth, making Jake’s brain go blank.
“Oh- yeah sure,” he tilted his head down, flicking some hair from his fringe out of his face as he lifted up his black tank top. “Just like, three stars on each side,” he traced along his pronounced V-line, even bunching up the waistband of his jeans to reveal more skin. “I was thinking they could be bigger at the bottom and get smaller at the top? And like alternate between black and red with a black outline.” he described in detail what and where he wanted them, but all Y/n could see were his slender fingers running over the prominent trails leading to his pelvis.
All she could hear was his deep, deep voice, with that Southern twang that could lull even the most chronic insomniac into a peaceful sleep.
Of course she was still listening, in fact, it only made her pay even closer attention to what he was saying. She watched very intently as he described the size and placement of it all.
Once he was done explaining he looked back up again, “Yeah, that’s about it,” he shrugged.
However, she was still looking at where his hands had just been - it was only when he dropped his shirt back down that her head flicked back up for her to meet his gaze again, one corner of his mouth being upturned to the slightest degree, but it was enough to catch her attention.
She got to sketching on the iPad, and because it was a relatively simple design it didn’t take long. Soon the template was printed out and she brought it back to Jake who was still sitting patiently on the bed, swinging his legs off the edge but stopped as soon as she came in, leaving her no choice but to stifle her giggles.
“Okay, I’m gonna need you to bunch up your shirt a bit and loosen your belt as much as you can so I have some room to work with, alright?” she asked him as she walked back to the table beside him, putting on some black latex gloves from the drawer.
“Alrighty,” he sang as he did exactly that, standing up briefly and turning around as he adjusted the tightness of his belt and the height of his underwear. “No peaking,” he teased with his back towards her.
She scoffed at his words, but she could not help thinking, ‘You think he saw me staring?’ Because where usually she didn’t care about such a thing, she felt the need to keep everything strictly business.
After he was done he sat back down in his previous spot.
“Could you lay back for me?” she asked politely as he gave her a little salute as he followed her command.
“Yes, ma’am,” he joked as he followed her orders once again. She scoffed to hide her smirk at the nickname - she knew he knew what he was doing.
She moved her chair over and placed the stencil over where he wanted it, then asked him to sit up and check if the placement was all right and he assured her that it was perfect.
So without another word, she started to print the stencil onto his lower stomach.
“Tss-” Jake hissed slightly as she rubbed the drawing onto his skin which made her head flick up to him.
“Cold?” she chuckled, assuming his noise was due to the gel used to transfer the image.
However, Jake cursed himself internally for his reaction. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied honestly. He thanked God he managed to play it off because he truly didn’t know what caused it - perhaps it was her hands touching him so delicately…
“Okay, you ready?” she asked as she picked up the gun, dipping it in the ink and moving it closer to where she would start.
“As I’ll ever be,” he said cockily as he put his hands behind his head.
So she counted down from three and got to work. But something she noticed was that when the needle pierced his skin his breath hitched.
And he was typically good with pain, but this was something different.
“Does it hurt?” she chuckled, not stopping as she angled her head to the side to look up at him, making him deny it quickly.
As she continued tattooing she tried her best to tune out the slight huffs and groans coming from the man below her hands, and instead focussed on asking him questions.
“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked casually as she stared only at her work.
This gave him the opportunity to look at her instead, watching her skilled hands draw such perfect lines. “Oh,” he wondered how in-depth he should go with his answer, “I do YouTube, I make some music too.”
“Yo, what? Awesome!” she said excitedly, “You’ve gotta be pretty good to live out here in the Hills.”
He laughed slightly, “I’m alright,” he stayed humble as to not come off cocky. “What about you-” he started but kicked himself immediately after he said it.
She laughed this time, looking up to meet his eyes, “What do you think?” she held up the gun.
“But you’d think this would be easier by now,” she mentioned, “you chose the most awkward angle in the world for me to work with.” She was half-joking, but she also tried to readjust her arm positioning on his torso to make it easier.
“Sorry,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle, he was going to suggest something to make it easier, but he decided against it.
As she kept going he had to keep telling him to stop fidgeting because he would squirm and move practically every two seconds, but he swore it wasn’t hurting that bad.
As he kept apologising and they kept making small talk she butted in with another question, “You’re not from around here, are you?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but she could not focus on anything else but that hint of country in this alt boy’s accent.
“Nicely noticed,” he praised with a hum, “I’m from Kansas in the midwest, out in the sticks and the mud!” he put on a heavy country-boy voice as he said it, making her cough out a laugh.
“What about you?” he flipped the question back on her.
“Born and raised,” she smiled sarcastically. She’d always wished to go somewhere else but never had the chance. “I’ve lived in this same area my whole life. Still live in a house just down the road,” she shrugged and nodded in the direction she meant, returning to focus on her work.
“Oh yeah? D’ya live with your boyfriend…?” he asked slyly, slightly hesitant but he figured it could just be an innocent question. And while she wasn’t looking at his face she could practically sense the smirk on his beautifully plump lips.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head and replied, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” she clarified.
“Hm,” he replied simply as he laid his head back again.
“What about you then?” she started the conversation back up, “Live alone?”
“Nope,” as soon as he spoke her heart dropped, shit. Was she misreading all of this?
“I’ve got two roommates, but no girlfriend,” he said confidently, making Y/n’s heart rate go back to normal.
God, he was good.
“Hm,” she mimicked his response in him same tone and carried on.
But after a couple minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, while they both listened to the music playing through the speakers, she piped up again. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making Jake open his eyes and look back down at her as she moved her chair back and forth, “you really did choose the most awkward place for me to tattoo! You know that?” she complained light-heartedly with a laugh at her inability to find the right position. “It’s hard for me to reach across like this,” she demonstrated the tricky angle for him to see.
“You keep saying that,” he laughed deeply and then went quiet once more, but when she looked up at him she saw that the cogs in his brain were spinning rapidly.
“You know,” he started, making Y/n turn her attention back to him as he spoke, “you could always just sit here,” he nodded his head down to his legs and her eyes followed.
He said it. He finally said what he had been thinking for the past 30 or so minutes.
“Uh… what?” Y/n said nervously.
There was no going back now.
“You heard me,” he smiled, trying his best to stop his lips from curling up into more of a smirk so as to not intimidate her, but he definitely knew he wasn’t alone in feeling like he was. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be weird, it just might be easier for you, yeah?”
She thought about it, she really really did, but she knew she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, it would be unprofessional of me,” she said, still trying to convince herself not to just straddle his lap right there and then, having to look away from him because she knew that if he looked at her one more time with those puppy-eyes it would be a whole different story.
“I assure you it doesn’t have to be,” he persuaded. That voice of his smooth like silk - the most enchanting, compelling silk ever spun.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath in, then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room. No one else saw the footage but her, it’s not like she would lose her job.
Fuck it.
“Fuck it,” she said as she climbed on, carefully placing a knee on either side of his long legs and leaning forward to test how the new angle worked for her.
“Better?” he responded in a ‘told-you-so’ type of way - he was getting cockier by the second now he had gotten what he wanted.
She got back to work and looked up at him this time through her lashes, flicking some hair out of her face, “It is, actually.”
She noticed the way he looked down at her every now and again and recognised what went on behind his dark brown eyes - but she paid no attention. Y/n figured that the best course of action was to act as if this was a perfectly normal day and that she did this with every client.
She didn’t.
Her best efforts were put into ignoring his burning stare, and his gorgeous hair, and his perfect nose, and his sexy smile; his arms, his revealed torso that she was constantly touching; him.
But he, on the other hand, used her beauty as a way to distract from the pain of the relentless needle piercing his skin. Her face, her eyes, the expression she made when she concentrated, her body on him.
And time flew, meaning that in what felt like too soon, it was done.
Y/n wiped away the final bit of ink and admired her work, scootching back so Jake could sit up a bit and see for himself, “What do you think?” she asked nervously, as it was always a bit scary showing clients what you’ve etched into their bodies for life.
He shuffled up to have a good look at it, then at her, then back at his stomach. “It’s…” he drew it out, “Perfect!”
A wave of relief washed over Y/n as she sighed, noticing Jake’s line of sight had been aimed at her again.
“Thank you, Y/n,” he said sincerely.
She just smiled, listening to the way her name fell off his lips like it had been waiting on the edge for a lifetime. But then she looked down and realised that she was still practically sitting on his guy’s lap, so she quickly scrambled off and stood next to the bed again, going to fetch a ‘second skin’ from her drawer.
Jake could not help but feel a little disappointed when she seemed so desperate to get it all over with. The last thing he wanted was to have made her at all uncomfortable.
But she wasn’t. As soon as she came back and put the protective layer over his tattoo she looked up at him again from her chair, “You’re very welcome.”
They both made their way back into the main room, smiling and laughing with each other as they continued talking, but in the cold outside room, the burning hot rope of tension that tied them together became even more astoundingly apparent.
She tried to break the tie by going behind the till, leaving him on the other side.
His total appeared on the screen and he paid. He actually paid a lot more than he should have, not taking his eyes off her even once as he did so.
“It was nice meeting you, Y/n,” he said somewhat solemnly. He knew he was most likely going to see her again, this definitely wouldn’t be his last tattoo, but it felt akin to saying goodbye to a loved one, even though they had only been in each other's presence for less than a few hours.
“Have a good rest of your day, Jake,” she returned, a similar feeling rising within her, but she couldn’t let that through to the surface.
And just like that, he was turning around and walking out of the store, walking away from her as she watched him from the back as he left.
Both of their stomachs turned as they suddenly felt incomplete, like there was something left to do but now they’ll never have the chance to do it. It was crazy how before today they had never realised there was a hole in both of their lives to fill until it had been satisfied for the first time. Yet, their time together had been so brief in the bigger scheme of things.
Jake would not let that slide.
As he was halfway down the stairs something in his brain set off an alarm and she shot back up the stairs and back up to the desk, catching her just before she walked away.
What’s the worst that can happen?
What’s the best?
“Oh,” she turned and saw him again, slightly surprised, “did you leave something?”
“Yes,” he said very quickly. “No,” he threw in shortly after, shaking his head rather frantically, leaving her slightly confused and letting out a chuckle.
“Do you think I could…” he clenched his teeth and decided that he would regret not shooting his shot if he left now, so he told himself to just come out and say it.
“Do you think I could get your number?” he blurted out, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her body react with a physical response.
But she couldn’t, this was her job, and she could get in a lot of trouble, even as the manager. “I-” she stuttered, not knowing what to say, and then took a breath. “I’m sorry but it would be wrong, I’m at work,” she sighed, and he could clearly see that’s not what she truly wanted either.
At least he had done it now and he wouldn’t have to live his life in wonder. “That’s alright,” he said half-heartedly, but trying his best to play it cool.
But he decided to try just once more.
“Uh,” he started again, making her gaze fix back on him. God, those eyes of hers - he had the feeling they could settle wars with just a glance if they let her. “What if I asked you after your shift?” he proposed, crossing his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever was out there that she would just say yes.
And as he asked again something within her screamed at her, ‘Just say yes!’, a doubt inside her was settled and happiness took its place, but she remained collected. She tried to stop the smile from rising on her lips, but as she spoke it was audible in her voice, “It would still be unprofessional,” she started and watched as his face dropped, so she quickly finished her sentence, “But… I get off at 7.”
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my first ever fic ! hope you guys enjoyed, comment if you wanna see part 2 i’ve already got it all planned out.
all requests taken in my bio !! xx
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diejager · 5 months
Note
Hello hellooooooo
I hope you are doing great !!
(I was waiting patiently for your requests to be open again lmao)
So, my brain was just thinking of something for monster!141 and I just need to share it somewhere 😵‍💫
As you may know, penguins' love language is giving pebbles to their loved ones
Penguin hybrid!Hunter just giving monster!141 pebbles and little rocks to show them that they love them 🥹
Alright, I'll go back to my knitting now BYE
*gets out by the window with a parachute*
Pebbles Cw: weird courting, tell me if I missed any.
You didn’t have any noticeable differences to a human, having the appearance of any human with a some quirky and funny behavioural traits that all of them enjoyed. You had your moments of oddity, but you didn’t seem that far from a human, having no tail, ear or horns, your skin as smooth and soft as any. They dropped their suspicions of you being a hybrid, a monster or even an inter dimensional creature of some unknown source.
And somehow, they find small trinkets - small, round pebbles picked out of a bunch to be perfectly rounded, smooth edges and glistening under the light, and sticks, long and robust, but small enough to sneak into the base without being caught - placed in the areas they often found themselves frequenting.
Price would find a cluster of pebbles on his desk, arranged neatly in a ring, a curious little thing that he shrugged off, putting them away for the time he’d be able to catch the culprit red handed in the act. Price chucked it up to being Soap and Gaz pulling a prank on him, an unsuspecting and benign trick for a little laugh between them, he didn’t bother with it too much.
Ghost found his small collection of sticks and rock on the books he liked to read, placed near the corner of his desk in his office, the arrangement was neither crude nor clean, it was a chaotic abstraction that he didn’t understand.He didn’t know what to make of it, no one would be brave enough - stupid enough - to pull something like this on him and on his stuff without knowing the risks they put themselves in.
Soap and Gaz had a few placed that belonged to them alone, like their rooms or their locker in the armoury, small areas that everyone knew was theirs. Gaz was the first of the two to find flowers and pebbles in the top compartment of his locker, picked with utmost care to keep the petal from bending. Soap found his collection of sticks and flowers stitched in a pretty crown placed around the collar of his vest, a little present full of romance and adoration. Both of them couldn’t help but find this weird act endearing.
Until Price saw you rush out of his office, a sweet, love-filled smile plastered on your face as if you’d been given the miracle of your life. If he pushed the thought farther, he could almost see a little tail wagging behind you, oh so overzealous and overjoyed with something you did. Peaked by it, he looked into his room and caught the bright petals of a daisy gently placed in the middle of a wreath of stick. He looked at it with a renewed aww and curiosity, feeling your affection roll of your intricate design, made and catered to him as if you’d made each and every single one of his boys a little courting gift-
It was an instinctual courting behaviour seen in monsters and hybrids alike. It stopped him in his tracks, causing him to question himself and your file, he’d been sure that you were human through and through, holding not a single ounce of monster blood in your veins, you’d done tests. Tests, he had to remind himself that these tests were - despite being physical and DNA tests - noted down if the recipient had any traits deemed worthwhile, something useful in the minds of a battle or in a dogfight.
That would give reason to some missing holes in your file, the little things that made you so charmingly you in every aspect was missing from your papers, reserved for people who came to know you. It warmed his heart, to see you so comfortable with them that you ended up forging such strong, emotional connections that you started giving them gifts. He’d have to take it up with the other boys, tell them what he just found out: your little, courting gifts, your hybrid roots that they could explore and your lovable smile when you’d successfully given your gift, and see where they would go from there.
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johns-prince · 6 months
Note
if you don’t mind, what are some of your favorite soft mclennon moments?
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JOHN: I used to try to get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, “Look, we don’t need these fuckin’ suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.” My little rebellion was to have my tie loose with the top button of my shirt undone. Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight. [x]
PAUL: There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.
The Times Profile of Paul McCartney - 1982 [x]
“And John and Paul thought back to the time they’d been in Paris before. Flat-broke, unable to afford a taxi, without funds for a decent meal. ‘Maybe we’ll buy the Eiffel Tower this time’, said John with a grin.”
“The Beatles in Paris.” Beatles Book Monthly Magazine No. 8 (March 1964). [x]
““Okay, okay,” I said, “don’t go on, John.” I felt a surge of embarrassment because my instrument was the cause of such hilarity. “Look guys, that’s enough. What have you two been doing while we’ve been struggling to get here? I hope you’ve done some practising and got the song list sorted out?” I was getting more and more annoyed as this episode was dragging on. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry Len. Paul and I have got it all sorted out. Haven’t we Paul? Paul! Paul! I said haven’t we Paul?” Paul McCartney looked up with a wry smile and paused. “Tonight will run just like clockwork. I am going to give the audience the best rendition of ‘Guitar Boogie’ they have ever heard this side of Garston.” “Hey, this is a new twist,” I said. “Paul just cracked a joke. He must have a sense of humour after all, John, shall we have him in the group?” John was enjoying the banter as ever. “Yeah, we’ll give him another try and if you don’t get it right this time, Jimmy,” Jimmy (James) was Paul’s first name, “then…” John waited to see the expression on Paul’s face. “Then we’ll,” again a pause, and by this time we were hanging on John’s next words, “then we’ll have to send him for some more guitar lessons!” Paul joined in the laughter and at that we were all back to normal.”
— Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]
“One of my great memories of John is from when we were having some argument. I was disagreeing and we were calling each other names. We let it settle for a second and then he lowered his glasses and he said: “It’s only me.” And then he put his glasses back on again. To me, that was John. Those were the moments when I actually saw him without the facade, the armour, which I loved as well, like anyone else. It was a beautiful suit of armour. But it was wonderful when he let the visor down and you’d just see the John Lennon that he was frightened to reveal to the world.” [x]
“Whatever bad things John said about me, he would also slip his glasses down to the end of his nose and say, ’I love you’. That’s really what I hold on to. That’s what I believe. The rest is showing off.” [x]
“I remember being shocked one day when John started worrying about how people would remember him when he was gone. It was an incredibly vulnerable thing for him to come out with. I said to him then, ‘They’ll remember you as a fucking genius, because that’s what you are. But, you won’t give a shit because you’ll be up there, flying across the universe.’” [x]
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“If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him?”  “In bed.” — Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998. [x]
“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”
— September 26, 1997, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle” by Steve Richards [x]
“We were recording the other night, and I just wasn’t there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other alot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other.”
— John Lennon, The Beatles by Hunter Davies [x]
Q: “What musician and composer do you respect most?” Paul: “No, I don’t know, really... John Lennon!” John: *mock-shy* “...Paul McCartney.” [x]
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conversations with mccartney, paul du noyer [x]
“It was 8:30. I could hear people talking about the likelihood of a storm later on that evening. I can remember hoping that it would clear up before my cycle ride back to Wavertree. Up to now it had been an eventful day but very tiring and as a group, although committed to playing, we all wished that we could pack up and go home. All of us apart from John Lennon. I think that meeting Paul had whetted his appetite and by the time we went on stage for our session at 8:45 he looked refreshed and seemed to have a new sparkle, as though he had had an injection of renewed optimism and enthusiasm as he played and sang through our usual repertoire that evening. […] I went outside for some air and a smoke; John and Pete decided to come with me. We stood outside pulling on our cigarettes, enjoying the breeze that had risen with the oncoming storm. “Do you know, John,” remarked Pete as we stood outside, “I’ve never heard you sound as good as you did just then. I know you’re going to say that I’m not very musical but I could hear the difference. I can see that something’s happened to you. Even the skiffle numbers which I know you’re not that keen on sounded good. You seem to have put more effort into them.” “Pete’s right, John. I couldn’t help noticing it as well,” I said. John was silent for a few minutes, just enjoying his smoke. “I guess someone took the trouble to share what he knew with me and it’s just given me a little encouragement for the future, that’s all.” “Oh I see, you’re getting a little sentimental in your old age, aren’t you,” joked Pete, who had never seen his life-long friend in that light before. “Don’t be thick, Pete,” replied John, who seemed almost back to his normal abrupt self. “Come on, I need a drink.”” — Len Garry, John, Paul and Me: Before The Beatles. (1997) [x]
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[x]
Paul's persistence and endless patience for John while he was dealing with the death of his mother Julia:
But Paul seemed to have limitless patience for John, sneaking away from his classes to drink coffee at the Jacaranda coffeehouse, or else spend the afternoon nursing pints and punching rock ‘n’ roll songs on the jukebox at Ye Cracke pub. Certainly, Paul preferred hanging out with his friend to grinding through lectures and assignments at his schoolboy’s desk at the Liverpool Institute. But the hours they spent together held an emotional significance, too. For even if they rarely spoke about the pain of losing their mothers, the mutual feelings of loss—and the rawness of John’s wound—gave them a connection that was as vital as it was unspoken. It was, Paul said later, a “special bond for us, something of ours, a special thing.” … “We could look at each other,” Paul said, “and know.”” 
John, however, had other things on his mind. Though the fall of 1958 and well into 1959, John was far too busy engaging in art-school life—if not exactly his studies—to think much about playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band. He had started dating another student, a quiet blonde from the relatively posh Hoylake district on the Wirral, named Cynthia Powell. She proved a warm, stabilizing influence, which helped mitigate John’s ongoing grief and rage.
He had also grown particularly close to one of the school’s most promising students, a blazingly talented painter named Stuart Sutcliffe, whose emotional portraits and densely wrought abstracts had already caught the eye of the university’s instructors, along with the gallery owners, artists and critics who orbited the bohemian section that bordered the campus. John had been drawn to Stu’s talent, too, and when his classmate invited John to move into his large, if downtrodden, flat around the corner from the college in a row of once-elegant homes on Gambier Terrace, the two art students became even closer. The flat became a hub for their college friends, a reliable address for drinking bouts and all-night parties.
 Nevertheless, Paul made certain not to be a stranger. He was a regular around Gambier Terrace, often toting his guitar to spur a little playing and singing, and if circumstance permitted, a bit of songwriting. John remained an eager music fan, and generally enthusiastic partner for playing and singing. But his disinterest in the band, prompted at least in part by his deepening friendship with Stu, frustrated Paul. 
John was moving on, and not in a promising direction. George, for his part, had grown sick of waiting and joined the jazz-and-skiffle centered Les Stewart Quartet, though he made it clear to Paul he’d be back with the Quarrymen whenever they resumed playing. Paul, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in playing with anyone else. For whatever combination of emotional or visceral reasons, he couldn’t seem to imagine a musical life that didn’t include John Lennon as his primary partner.
So he persisted, dragging his guitar to Gambier Terrace, making himself a fixture amid the empty beer bottles, overflowing ashtrays, shattered Vicks inhalers, and paint-splattered clothes.
If John didn’t evince any interest in being in a band, Paul would simply wait, guitar at the ready, until he did.
— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life [x]
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writers-potion · 2 months
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Got anything for dialogue
Writing Dialogue 101
Dialogue is conversation, nothing more, nothing less. The catch is: diagloue is EDITED conversation. It must be more concise, purposeful and witty than the everyday sentences we speak, while sounding natural.
The Purpose of Dialogue
Diaglue is definitely a fiction elements that pops everything up and out. Thus, dialogue is going to have more impact than your normal paragraphs, in order to:
Characterizes/reveals motives
Sets the mood in the story
Intensifies the story conflict
Creates tension and suspense
Speeds up your scenes
Add bits of setting/backgronud
Communicates the theme
Matching the Dialogue to the Genre
The dialogue in a book should speak the reader's language. There is a type of voice that suits each genre/category of fiction, and we must understand what matches the reader expectations and rhythm of the plot we are writing.
Magical Dialogue
"Do not kill him even now. For he has not hurt me. And in any case I do not wish him to be slain in this evil mood. He was great once, of a nobel kind that we should not dare to raise our hands against." - The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkein
"As much as I want you and want to be with you and part of you, I can't rear myself away from the realness of my responsiblities." - The Bridges of Madison County, Robert James Waller
This is the language of The Hobbit, Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
When writing literary and mainstream fiction (that is targeted at the general public rather than a target audience), we need to go with what sounds real, even with a magical setting
Science fiction and fantasy can be more unreal, i.e. things like "May the Force Be With You."
In romance, magical dialogue takes on a differen form. It's magical in that it transcends the way we talk to each other in normal society. Magical in that all of it makes perfect sense and is said in such eloquent langauge that we marvel at it while at the same time knowing that if we are left to ourselves, we would say something absolutely banal.
Cryptic Dialogue
"You know, the condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip it on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, then you throw it away. The condom, I mean. Not the stranger." - Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk
This is the dialogue in literary and religious stories that dealw ith abstract ideas and vague concepts and has double meanings. Readers aren't meant to understand theses right away.
These bits of dialogue plant sublimnal messages in the reader's mind that help communicate the theme later on, ultimately making sense.
Cryptic dialogue is difficult to do well. If we're not careful, we'll end up sounding preachy, moralistic and dogmatic.
You need to be able to view the world in different perspectives.
Descriptive Dialogue
The literary, fantasy and historical story often relies on dialogue for worldbuilding (expplaining history, magic rules, etc.)
The author's goal in descriptive dialogue is to provide the reader with information. However, the character's goal cannot be sacrificed for the author's. Dialogue can still have tension and suspense and can be inserted into a scene of action so the story doesn't bog down while the readers get some info.
Shadowy Dialogue
In shadowy dialogue, the character's job is to keep the reader suspended in a state of terror/suspense. Then you periodically tighten and loosen the tension.
The key here is uncertainty. The reader cannot trust the speaker, so we're always questioning him, wondering whether he's speaking truthfully or is presenting the full picture.
Keep the tone as dark of possible, using action and background as supporting tools.
Make it cryptic, or even better, offering an omnious threat of what is to come.
Provocative Dialogue
This is the type of dialogue that conveys the theme, talking about the "universla truth" your book is trying to convey.
Readers like to be challenged in their thinking, provoked to consider other ways of thinking, and shaken up in their belief systems with a fresh perspective about the world.
Consider this example from To Kill A Mockingbird:
"...but there is one way in this country in which all men are created equal - there is one humna institution that makes a pauper the equal of a Rockfeller, the stupid man the equal of an Einstein, and the ignornant man the equal of any college president."
There is no way we can read this and not think about something that is bigger than our daily lives.
Make your readers squirm, and shock them out of their comfort zones.
Uncencored Dialogue
Uncencored dialogue in YA stories are of young people, but that doesn't mean it's filled with hip-hop words and slag.
While adults cencor themselves when they speak, teenagers haven't yet learned that skill so their dialogue is more raw, edgy and honest.
Readers of YA novels expect realism, so make it as authentic as possible. The last thing we want to is for our characters to be brash and honest, but NOT sound like they've just stepped out of Planet Way Cool.
For example:
"What if he doesn't like me back?" "You are too much of a chicken to do anything aboutit but mope."
As an adult, how often do you admit fear of rejection out loud to another, or call out your friend to her face? In YA-type of dialogue though, we can just write what comes into these characters' minds.
So that sums up the different types of dialogue. Consider the nature of your plot, what your readers and the genre of the story you are writing to choose an appropriate way for your characters to speak!
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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heavenlyvision · 5 months
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I’m literally inlove with your writing! Anyways I was wondering if you could maybe do a Kuai Liang x reader one shot where he’s had like a stressful day and basically goes crazy with back shots. English is not my first language so I’m sorry if this does not make sense.
Thank you sm !!!! Kuai is a little ooc because he is a bit grumpy in this but he is a little sweet in the end (kinda) 🫣 This fic is shorter because I got brain rot for Kuai atm and I can only write on my phone. Also, your English was great !!! Thank you heaps for your request and I hope you enjoy it <33
Not sorry
Wc: 2.7k
Pairing: Kuai Liang x Afab!Reader
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, no use of pronouns, p in v sex, creampie, biting, minor burns, no use of y/n, Kuai is a little mean… sorry !!!
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When Kuai Liang walks through your front door you can immediately tell he’s had a bad day, mostly because the door slams behind him and he doesn’t even flinch; he just walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and drops down beside you.
“By the way you’ve just slammed my door I’m guessing you had a great day,” you speak sarcastically; not looking up from your book.
He sighs beside you, “Sorry… today was… trying.”
He sounds drained from beside you but he also seems angry, like something happened to royally piss him off; well, something or someone.
You go to ask him, “Do you want to talk about–”
“–No.” He cuts you off.
You drop your book and look him in the eyes, “Yes, clearly whatever happened is not an issue that should be discussed.”
He doesn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes on the wall in front of you both. The frown resting on his brow is prominent and you feel the need to reach over to smooth it out but as your hand reaches for him he grabs your wrist and holds it up.
His eyes lock onto yours, “What are you doing?”
You feel a bit flustered and you don’t know how to tell him you were going to touch his face, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” You mumble a bit before pulling your wrist from his hold.
His eyes are examining you, trying to understand your intent but you’ve looked away and started to read your book. Or you’re pretending to read your book, you’re a little preoccupied by his heated gaze on you.
You sigh, “Why’d you come over if you’re in such a bad mood?”
“Because I always visit you around this time,” he’s snippy, whatever happened has obviously pissed him off severely.
He does always visit around this time, though you wouldn’t think he would come around when he’s in this bad of a mood. How kind of him to subject you to his incredibly annoyed demeanour. It’s a bit irritating but you also think it’s a little bit sweet, his want to see you outweighing his poor mood.
“I don’t know how to help you when you’re like this,” your eyes are still on the book, not reading any of the words on the page.
He’s stoic beside you, still watching you, “For starters, you can stop pretending to read.”
“I’m not pretending,” you lie.
“You’ve been on the same page since I walked in,” he observes.
You scowl at your book, “No I haven’t,” you double down.
From beside you, he grabs your book and pulls it away, chucking it across the room.
“Hey!” You exclaim at him, you move to pick up your book but he pulls you back onto the couch. Making you look at him.
“I also came here for a specific purpose,” his eyes are hard, looking at you firmly.
You’re unamused, “And what’s that?”
The way he’s looking at you is setting you on fire, he’s making you flustered and it’s completely unfair. You have been carrying a torch for this man for many years now and he’s never once shown signs of reciprocation but with the way he’s eyeing you right now, you feel completely exposed to him. He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, and you might let him.
“Something happened today and I want to– need to know, how do you feel about me?” His question stuns you.
You’re unable to speak for a few moments, lost at where his sudden question has come from. “W–What prompted that question?”
He doesn’t answer you, just looking you head on, waiting for your answer. An answer you don’t really want to give.
You deflect instead, your confession coming in a non-committal way. “Well, I love you of course, I always have.” You make it sound as casual as possible, hoping he doesn’t see through you.
“I see,” he replies, his tone even.
You’re both sat looking at each other, not sure where to go from here. Unconsciously, your eyes flick to his lips, lingering for a moment too long, giving away your desire for him. You look away quickly, wishing you still had your book in front of you.
“I think you are lying,” his hand reaches towards your face and pulls it back to him, “I think you have feeling for me.” The emphasis on the last word confuses you for a moment but before you can ask him about it, his lips are on yours.
He leans in closer and pulls you towards him by the hand on your face. His kiss is harsh and needy, his bad mood still lingering under his lust for you. He pushes you back onto the couch, following you down; his lips never leave yours. When your back hits the couch, you gasp against him and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. The shock of it has a whiney moan pulling from you, the sound you make has an appreciative grunt coming from Kuai.
Your hands grab at him, holding onto his shoulders, needing the leverage. He is so large above you, his body heat consuming you, his mouth overwhelming you, he’s driving you insane. He’s taken over all your senses, when he pulls back, you’re huffing underneath him. His kiss has taken your breath away, you’re dazed by the way he’s just kissed you. You can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him. His own are filled with a desperate heat, dark and lustful.
“I need you… on your stomach,” his voice is deep when he speaks.
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, heating your face up. Taking a moment to look up at him, completely dumbfounded. He leans down again and kisses the look off your face, his hand moves to your neck and hold you as he does.
When he pulls back again, he tells you, “Roll over.”
You immediately roll over for him, lying on your stomach beneath him. His hands pull your hips up onto your knees, the dress you’re wearing falls upwards and pools around further up your body. Your arms move to hold yourself up slightly, your back arched low. The position has you feeling completely exposed to him. His fingers graze over your core through your panties, the slight touch makes you twitch.
He hums at you, “Already so wet, I’ve only kissed you.”
“Kuai–”
His touch moves back to your core, firmer this time. The feeling cuts off your words, he pushes the tip of his finger into your pussy hole, held back by your underwear. The action results in your panties getting wetter. He’s toying with you, playing with you over your panties. His touch grazing over your core, making you twitch and squirm for him. He’s making you moan for him, purposefully touching you so you’ll whimper out his name.
His touch withdraws before he leans down, his face pressed to your core, his mouth over your panties. His tongue licking at you over them, the stimulation has you jumping forward and moans tumbling from your lips. His mouth soaks your panties completely, ruining them. Ashamedly, he gets you impeccably close to your end like this, so close to cumming in your underwear for him. Your moans reaching a higher pitch, coming more frequently.
Suddenly, he pulls back, removing all stimulation, your cunt pulsing from your almost orgasm.
“Mmm I bet you were close,” he comments, his observation makes you huff at him, your hips moving back at him, trying to entice him.
He hums and then his mouth moves to your arse cheek and bites down, you gasp and jump at the feeling. He’s no doubt left an impression of his teeth in your skin. Once he’s pulled back, he borderline moans at the state of you.
His tone is dark and pleased, “You look great with my teeth marking you.”
“Kuai, please, do something.”
He seemingly considers your words for a moment before answering, “Remember, you asked for it.”
The shuffling of his pants can be heard behind you and then he’s pulling your panties to the side. The head of his cock sliding through your slick for a moment before notching on your pussy hole, he slips the head in, giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch. The sensation is burning, he’s large in every way apparently and you really wish you could see him right now. What kind of face is he making, what does his cock look like entering you.
Your thoughts almost have your mouth drooling, instead, it’s your cunt drooling on him. Your wetness leaking from you onto the head of his cock. The sight of your obscene arousal has Kuai twitching inside you and a moan pulling from his chest. He can’t help the way he stuffs more of himself into your small pussy. His length opening you up, your cunt taking him as he inches into you. You’re pulsing around him in need, completely desperate for him at this point.
“Gods, I wanted this to be different but you drive me crazy,” his words are hissed out between his teeth.
You don’t have the time or brain cells to pull apart what he means, your hips push back on him, taking more of him. He moans and meets your thrust, pushing his cock all the way into you. Stuffing you full, your arse rests on his pelvis. He grinds into you, his hands gripping at your hips, holding you flush to him.
He groans reverently at the way your cunt grips him tightly. At the way you’re throbbing around him, you’re driving him just as crazy as he is you.
Whimpers spill from you as you try to speak, “P –hah– lease, move~” you squirm against him, grinding back on him, needing the friction, desperately.
His fingers dig into your plush skin, holding you tightly, “Give me a second, pretty. Gripping me so –mmmph– tight, I nee –ah– d a second.”
His words broken by whiney sounds set you on fire, you need him to move. Now. You draw forward, aiming to fuck yourself back on him but he grabs you and pulls you back forcefully, the sensation exactly what you wanted. A moan tumbling from you at the action, you want more. Greedy for him and his fat cock.
He grunts, “You’re needy –hah– fuck.” He pulls out slowly; leaving only the tip inside you, “–mmph– I’ll give you what you need,” he promises, before forcing himself back inside you.
You moan loudly, your fingers grip into the couch, your forehead pressed into the cushion below you. Kuai’s thrusts are harsh and fast, fucking you silly, using your body as a fuck toy. His hands holding you and fucking you back onto him, his cock hammering into your cervix. Your cunt pulses around him, your slick coating his dick completely. Lewd noises fill the room, wet slapping sounds echoing in the lounge.
He grunts and moans from behind you, the way he’s shoving his dick into you has you willing to worship the ground he walks on. He’s in the same boat regarding your cunt, obsessed with the way you cream around him, the way you grip him, the way you’re so wet he’s slipping in and out of you with ease.
You cry out his name, almost literally, eyes wet and glassy, “Kuai~”
“Hmm?” He asks mindlessly, too obsessed with watching the way you suck his cock in to pay attention to anything else.
“I wanna –hah– see you,” you whimper out to him, wanting to see him, to touch him.
He chuckles at your desperation, “Next time.” His promise of a next time makes your pussy jump, “You like that? The idea of me fucking you again? Having you regularly take my cock?”
You moan out shamelessly, not even trying to hide the way you’d love to be fucked by him daily, loving the idea of being stuffed full of him. Sitting on top of him with his cock in you, not moving just full of him. Your own imagery has you clenching down on him again, your whimpers spilling from you, a tear slipping from your eye at his relentless thrusts.
His hands on your hips are hot, his body heat in general making you sweat. His pelvis slaps into your arse consistently, you’re spasming around him. So close to finishing.
“Kuai~ I –mmph– I’m close–” Tears fall down your cheeks.
“Cum then,” he grunts out, encouraging you to finish on his dick.
His thrusts and the moans he’s letting slip have you cumming for him, hard. Your cunt grips down on him tight, vice like. Your own orgasm has him grunting loudly, his dick twitching inside you. Ropes of his cum filling you, he continues fucking it into you. Prolonging your orgasms and enjoying the way his cum leaks out around you both when he pulls out and stuffs himself back in.
The heat on your hips burns and you wince in pain, a small whimper exiting you at the feeling. He removes his hands suddenly, “Fuck, sorry. I’ve burnt you.”
“It’s okay…” you huff out, dazed from your orgasm but also okay with the burns.
He pulls out of you slowly, both of you groaning as he does. He pulls his pants up, taking his time to enjoy the view of his cum leaking from your pussy hole.
His hands gently trace over the burn marks of his hands, humming appreciatively. Enjoying the way his hands are burned into your soft flesh, “It’s a good look,” he comments.
You laugh airily at him, “Help me up?”
“Of course,” he pulls your panties back into place and then moves you into a sitting position on the couch.
“Thank you,” you smile at him.
He looks at you thoughtfully, his hands pulling your dress off completely out of nowhere. Your hands go to cover your chest at the sudden exposure, “What are you–”
“Wanna see the burns,” he frowns, looking you over, his hands so gentle with you. “I’ll be back, gonna get you some ice.”
He wanders off and grabs some ice blocks, wrapping them in tea towels and coming back to you. He holds them against your hips, soothing the burns. You aren’t bothered though, you like knowing that his hand prints will be seared into your skin for a while.
“I’m sorry, for burning you.”
“It’s okay… I liked it…” you shy away from his gaze, looking off into the distance.
He takes in a deep breath from beside you, “I didn’t say earlier but… I love you too.”
You look back at him, a shocked expression on your face, “You do?”
“Of course,” he smiles softly at you, “I was rough and didn’t express myself in a healthy way.”
You implore him, “What happened today?”
He frowns, “You know that guy, the one you hang out with.”
“My friend? Yes…”
“He… was boasting about you liking him, about how obvious it was. When I told him you did not, he called me jealous… He is not a good person, but I realised I was jealous. Because I want you. And I want you to only want me…” His words are filled with annoyance, getting angry again at the memory of your so called ‘friend’ being a pompous ass.
Your hands move to hold his face, making him look at you, “I do want only you, always have.”
He melts for you, “Good.” His smile is soft but then his eyes wander down, staring at your uncovered chest. It makes you roll your eyes at him.
“Eyes up here,” you joke.
He doesn’t look back up, gaze staying on your tits, “I know.”
You move a hand to his chin and use it to tilt his eye line back up to yours, “Don’t be a perv.”
He raises his eyebrows suggestively at you before he holds the side of your face tenderly, serious as he says, “I know I’ve already said it but I am sorry about taking my anger out on you.”
“And like I said… I liked it.”
“You’re making it hard to be sorry,” he sighs, amused by you.
You smile coquettishly at him, “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
He leans in and kisses you, it’s tender and warm. He makes your brain fuzzy and you’re happy, always happy when he’s next to you.
You can feel his light smile against your lips when he pulls back, “Then, I’m not sorry.”
₊ ⊹
A/N: Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it :)) and I should have access to my laptop tomorrow so hopefully ‘Bare’ pt 2 will be up sooner rather than later <33
As per usual, if you have any thoughts, feelings or requests feel free to slide into my inbox <333
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drchucktingle · 6 months
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Hello, Dr. Tingle. Just finished reading Camp Damascus and I wanted to let you know that I loved it. ^_^ That ending blew me away. Couldn't stop reading until I was done. Loved the characters. It gave me some things to think about, too. Great book, thank you very much for writing it. Looking forward to Bury Your Gays. Hope you have a wonderful day!
thank you i am so glad to hear you enjoyed CAMP DAMASCUS it seems to really be resonating with this timeline. you never know what art will do when it leaves your cupped hands and starts to flutter around the room. will it crash or will it grow and bloom and spread out far and wide with a million flashing wings. camp damascus has spread far and wide because of buckaroos like yourself. it is sort of IN THE CANON now when discussing queer horror and that is so powerful it is honestly overwhelming for me to think on. i sit back and think 'whoa chuck and all the buckaroos got together and we actually bent this timeline around us'
i think BURY YOUR GAYS has the potential to be like this as well for a number of reasons. it is a BIG BIG SWING of a book and it has a lot to say about art and what it means to be a creator, about the value of FANDOM and being inspired by what came before you: shows, music, books, film. about the humanity of all this and how these are things that should be nourished and cherished. about how everything is fan fiction in its own way and fan fiction is valid
it is about how queerness weaves into all that. how it weaves through fandoms and what happens when it does. about the responsibility of queer creators.
it is also about asexual buckaroos and representation and how the letters of fun alphabet trot need to support one another. (STRAIGHT is also about this)
anyway that is a bit of a ramble but i just cant wait to see how BURY YOUR GAYS bends this timeline as well. i think we are just getting started bud. i think CAMP DAMASCUS made a dent and BURY YOUR GAYS is going to tie this strings of this reality in a big beautiful bow
i am so thankful to have my buckaroos here with me when it happens. this is our way as buds, the whole dang lot of us. this is our trot together
oh and PREORDER BURY YOUR GAYS
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pink-sparkly-witch · 7 months
Text
Just Like This
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Summary: Working a second job in a bar to help pay for Sammy’s education, Dean finds a kindred spirit in bar manager Y/N. When a drunk Douchebag gets too handsy with her, Dean quickly jumps to her defence but faces harsh consequences.
Pairing: Bartender!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Rating: Teen
Bingo Square: Getting Fired for @j3bingo
Warnings: tw: sexual assault (groping), fluff, angst, fighting, minor violence, Chuck is a complete and utter asshole in this, getting fired, quitting in solidarity, first kiss, friends to lovers
Word Count: 3k
A/N: Okay, it feels like an age since I’ve written anything that’s just pure floof. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, protective, besotted Dean fic. Please be kind. I’ve had my angst hat on for a long time, and though this was really refreshing, it’s also a little daunting!
My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi
Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖
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It wasn’t the best job in the world, but as part-time work went, Dean knew it could be a hell of a lot worse than this. He worked with his dad in the garage during the day and worked four nights a week and two shifts at the weekend in Shurley’s Sports Bar. His wages and tips went to his dad to help pay for Sammy’s education. Sure, the kid had a full ride to Stanford; however, he still needed to pay for accommodation after freshman year and the thousands of books he needed for his coursework. And at least this way, his dad didn’t put himself in an early grave by working all the hours God gave him. Lord knows he’d done enough of that when they were kids.
Shurley’s was a decent bar. It had a prime location between the University of Kansas campus and downtown, so it always has a steady stream of customers. It quietened during the summer when the students went home or on their travels, but the locals still made trade steady enough. The owner, Chuck, was a bit of a dick, but he barely showed his face around the place, and the other staff were decent, making it a great place to work.
“Hey, Dean,” Y/N said as she came out of the back office. Y/N was the bar manager and a great girl. They had a lot in common; both lost their mothers when they were young and looked after their younger siblings while their fathers worked three jobs to try and make ends meet. Y/N’d had to drop out of college when her father took unexpectedly sick, having to take care of him and her little sister. Now that her father had passed and her sister had a full ride to another prestigious college, Harvard, Y/N lived in the tiny apartment above the bakery where she worked four days a week and in the bar four nights a week and every Saturday night. The rest of the time, she studied part-time to finish her college education and sent every spare cent she had to her sister in Boston.
“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at her. She was pretty, too, and Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that he had a massive crush on her. Not that anything would ever happen because she was her, and he was… well, he wasn’t good enough for a girl like that. “How are ya, sweetheart?”
“I’m good, Dean. How are you? Oh! Did you manage to get Sam’s apartment sorted?” Y/N asked, and he smiled that she’d remember such a thing.
“Yeah, it’s all good now. We managed to get the rest of the deposit together,” Dean said. “Thanks for the extra shifts, by the way.”
“Don’t mention it,” Y/N smiled. “I still can’t believe landlords can actually do that,” Y/N shook her head as she headed behind the bar and started filling the refrigerators with bottles of beer and wine to prepare for the busy Friday night shift.
“Yeah, us either. But it’s done, and he has somewhere to live,” Dean said as he put the last menus and condiment buckets on the tables. “What needs to be done next, boss?” he asked, smirking when Y/N chuckled. She hated being called that, but he seemed to be the only one she didn’t scold for it.
“I could use a hand changing over the barrels if you’ve got time?” she said, breaking up the cardboard that the bottles had been housed in.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean headed into the storeroom and started shifting the beer barrels behind the bar as Y/N continued putting bottles in the fridges and replacing the almost empty spirit bottles with full ones to accommodate the busiest night of the year: Friday night football and Freshers Week.
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The bar was packed with customers, the warm, sunny weather drawing even more of them in than usual, and of course, Chuck had decided tonight was a good night to show face and ‘help’, putting the staff on edge. Dean had gone with the head down and get on with it attitude, glad it was three deep at the bar so he had an excuse not to have to entertain Chuck for very long.
Y/N had been running around after Chuck all night, finding this paperwork and that invoice and the employee payroll for the past six weeks. Eventually, when he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more, she’d escaped the office, having brazenly told her boss that she was needed front of house to help serve customers.
“I swear,” she’d said as she tied her little black server’s apron around her waist, “It’s like he fucking knew tonight would be the busiest night but still came to check months old paperwork! God, that man is insufferable!”
It wasn’t often that Y/N showed her annoyance, and Dean couldn’t help but think it was cute. Though, admittedly, that could be his crush talking, her furrowed brow and tiny pout were adorable.
“What can I do to help?” he asked as she took her place behind the bar.
“I should be asking you that question!” she giggled. “What do you need me to do?”
“We could do with someone collecting and cleaning the empty glasses, if you wouldn’t mind?” he responded, smiling as she picked up a basket, cleaning spray, and a cloth before he’d finished his sentence.
“You got it,” she winked and headed onto the floor to clear and wipe the tables down. And that, Dean thought, is what makes a good boss. Someone who works with the team to achieve the same goal. Someone who isn’t afraid of stepping in to help by doing the most mundane tasks that are below their pay grade.
Y/N was a breath of fresh air for him in so many ways. She was bubbly and caring, and no matter what was thrown her way, she responded with an air of calmness and dignity that he admired.
“Hey, man. What can I get ya?” Dean asked the next patron, finally taking his eyes off the girl slowly taking over his every thought.
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“Be careful,” Dean said as Y/N headed back onto the floor to clear more glasses and tables. “It’s getting rowdy out there. You know what those college boys can be like.”
“Thanks, Dean,” she smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He knew she would be. He’d seen her handling every kind of drunk customer. Still, he’d watch her closely because he was more worried than usual. The crowd tonight seemed even more enthused thanks to the local sports team playing. It still surprised him how often the female staff got touched inappropriately and had the most vulgar things said to them by too drunk and far too confident men. More than once Dean had had to step in and stop something from going too far, and he’d do it as many times as he needed to for Y/N or any of the other female staff.
Y/N managed to get around most of the bar unscathed, but there was a particularly boisterous table of men who only frequented the bar when the Chiefs played. Dean had been watching them all night because they seemed to have forgotten their age and tried to out-drink their much younger counterparts. They’d already run their mouths off to the bar staff, and now one of them in particular had their beady eye on Y/N as she moved from table to table, collecting empty glasses and bottles.
Swapping her tray out for an empty one, Y/N made her way over to their table, and the second she got close enough, the balding guy with the beady eye was quick to rear his hand back and smack her ass. Dean’s hackles rose, and he was on high alert as he watched her give the douchebag a piece of her mind. But he didn’t stop. Douchebag wrapped his arms around her waist and tried pulling her onto his lap. All the while, his douchebag little friends laughed and cheered him on like he’d won a fucking prize.
Dean saw red as he ran around the bar and strode purposely over to the group of middle-aged men amid a mid-life crisis and pulled Y/N from his hold, dragging her behind him to protect her.
“The lady told you to leave her alone. I suggest you do that,” Dean fumed, only getting angrier at Douchebag’s smirk.
“Oh, ladies and gentlemen, we have a jealous boyfriend trying to protect his girl! You know, if she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out the house wearing something so…” he paused as he leered up and down Y/N’s body, “revealing.”
“Listen, asshole, you don’t want to piss me off right now. Why don’t you and your buddies call it a night and go home? You’ve clearly had too much to drink, and we don’t take kindly to people assaulting our staff here,” Dean’s jaw was clenched, but he’d somehow managed to keep his voice steady.
“Sorry, man,” Douchebag smirked as he stood. “Just can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl showing off half her body like a Goddamn little tease. She’s asking for it, really.”
That was the last straw, and as Douchebag made one final (and unfortunately successful) attempt to get his hands on Y/N, Dean pulled his fist back and punched him square on the nose. The resounding crack as Dean broke the guy’s nose was satisfying, as were the synchronised grimacing ‘oohs’ that the audience this little corner of the bar had attracted.
“You broke my nose, asshole!” Douchebag spluttered. “I’m reporting you for assault!”
“You do that,” Y/N said, “and I’ll have you arrested, too. This whole bar and the CCTV saw you grope me twice and clearly saw me trying to get you off me! What he did,” she pointed at Dean, “was save me from being sexually assaulted!”
“Come on, man,” one of Douchebag’s friends said, patting him on the back. “Let’s get you to the hospital. It’s not worth it.”
“Damn straight it’s not!” Dean yelled. “Any way you spin this, he doesn’t win, so get the hell out and don’t come back!”
Tail between their legs, Douchebag and his friends left the bar. The second the door shut behind them, Dean was next to Y/N, checking her for injuries.
“I’m fine, Dean,” she insisted, but her eyes told a different story. The encounter had shaken her up, and Dean wanted to fix it, needed to fix it.
“No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re–” Dean began but was interrupted by the shrill voice of Chuck.
“Winchester, my office, now! You too, Y/N.”
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Seeing Y/N sitting beside him on the other side of the desk was strange. This was where she did all the paperwork, payroll, ordering, and invoicing, so to see Chuck on her chair was disconcerting. And not good.
“I don’t know what was going on out there–” Chuck began, and Dean scoffed in disbelief.
“You’re bar manager was sexually assaulted by a customer. That’s what happened!” Dean sat forward on his chair, raising his voice. He only calmed when Y/N placed her hand on his forearm.
Chuck pursed his lips at his outburst and continued speaking as if Dean hadn’t interrupted.
“I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, sexual assault or not,” Chuck looked pointedly at Y/N before he continued. “It’s no excuse for my staff to behave violently.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean fumed. “That… scumbag… touched her ass and her breasts and tried to force her into his lap! You see those bruises, right?” he asked as he pointed to the dark purple fingerprint marks on her arms.
“Inappropriate comments, slurs, even touching, is to be expected when you work in a bar–” Chuck was interrupted again, this time by Y/N.
“There are no touching policies in every strip club in the country for a reason, Chuck! You cannot expect it to be any different in a fratboy sports bar! No one should go to work expecting that being sexually assaulted is okay!”
“For God’s sake, Y/N! So what a guy touched your ass and tits! You should be flattered!”
“It was sexual assault, Chuck! That guy,” Y/N pointed behind her in the general direction of the bar, “touched me without permission, and I could have him charged! You too with how you’re behaving!”
“Oh, stop being so dramatic! I feel sorry for your boyfriend if this is how prudish you are!”
“Hey, that is–” Dean interjected, but Chuck kept talking.
“Dean, you’re fired. I cannot, and will not, allow a violent brute to work in my bar.”
“You can’t do that!” Y/N protested.
“Watch it, or you’ll be gone, too!” Chuck threatened, but Dean knew it was an empty one with her. He needed her too much. The bar would burn to the ground without her in charge.
“No need. I quit. Effective immediately. I cannot, and will not,” Y/N glared at Chuck as she repeated his words to him, “work in a place where I’m expected to be sexually harassed and assaulted and ignore it. I cannot, and will not, work for a man who fires a good person for helping someone in need.”
Standing, Y/N took off her apron and name tag and threw them on the desk. She unhooked the keys from her belt and pulled the cash box towards her, opening it and pulling out two brown envelopes, handing one to Dean and putting the other in her pocket. Once she’d locked the cash box, she tossed her keys down on the cheap metal desk with a satisfying clang.
“Really? You’re going to quit over him?” Chuck scoffed.
“Yes. Dean is worth a thousand shitty bar jobs like this one, and I’d choose him over any of them in a heartbeat,” Y/N said with her head held high. “I hope you know you’ve just lost your two best workers on the busiest night of the year. Come on, Dean. Let’s get out of this shithole.”
Dean didn’t protest. He stood up, smirked at Chuck because he just couldn’t help himself, and followed Y/N out of the bar and onto the street.
“Sweetheart, you didn’t need to do that. I’m a big boy, and I can look after myself,” Dean said after walking in silence for a few minutes.
“I know you can, and yes, I did. That was unfair and undeserved. Especially because it was my fault,” Y/N responded.
“Hey, don’t ever… it wasn’t your fault. Things like that are never the woman’s fault, you know that, right?” Dean couldn’t believe she’d ever think something like that would be her own doing.
“I know, but if I’d listened to you and let Marcus clear tables instead of me, none of this would’ve happened.”
“No. I won’t hear it. You didn’t ask to be groped by a balding douchebag going through a mid-life crisis, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologise for someone else’s wrongdoing,” he reassured her.
“So, what do we do now? We both kinda needed that job,” Y/N chuckled, but it held no humour.
“Well, I might know a guy who owns a wine bar downtown. A classy establishment, so the tips are better. And we’d be treated right,” Dean said, thinking of the bar Cas had tried to get him to work in for months.
“You have a buddy with a bar, and you chose to stay working in that shithole?” Y/N asked in disbelief. “Why? What would possess you to stay there? Willingly?”
“It wasn’t all bad,” Dean smirked. This wasn’t where he envisioned this conversation going–if it ever happened at all, that is–but the perfect opportunity had presented itself and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take it. “I got to see you almost every day.”
“Come on! You did not stay there for me!” Y/N scoffed, and Dean shrugged his shoulders, his lips tugging upwards in a shy smile.
“I did, actually. Can’t think of anyone better to spend so much time with.”
“Dean Winchester,” she grinned. “Are you flirting with me?” The teasing tone in her words was one he’d never heard before, and he liked it.
“Do you want me to be flirting with you?” he’d asked, needing to hear her say it before he did something stupid because he’d misread the signals.
“Yeah… I think I do,” Y/N giggled, stepping closer to him, bumping their arms together as they stepped in sync down the sidewalk.
“Yeah?” he asked, checking again because, quite frankly, she was her and he was him.
“Yeah.”
Dean stopped walking and gently grabbed her forearm to stop her from walking ahead. Feeling brave, Dean placed his hands on her cheeks and dipped his head, slowly lowering his lips to hers. Every inch closer he got, he switched his gaze between her lips and her eyes, making sure this was what she wanted.
When there was no hesitation and nowhere else to go, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. They were as soft as they always looked, softer even, and tasted as sweet as he’d imagined they would.
Y/N pressed herself closer to him with a low hum and slid her arms up his chest, resting one hand on his pec and the other curling around his neck. Dean licked her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth and let him deepen their kiss.
He failed to hold back a groan when his tongue met hers, the feeling so much better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. Dean couldn’t remember how long he’d wanted this, and now that it was happening, he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep her in his arms, just like this.
Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720
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yesihaveaobsession · 20 days
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The Books
Alastor x female reader (others mentioned)
Summary: The reader (you) was a supernatural hunter(ess) back when you were alive on Earth, and so you decided to show everyone God aka Chucks books.
A/N- this was so fun. I love written a mini crossover . Let me know if you want more supernatural x hazbin hotel
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You hunted when you were alive and back on earth, and that was not deer hunting and / or ducking hunting. It was hunting that was life risking, anxiety pumping through you, and most of all, fear You hunted supernatural creatures. You name it, you hunted it.
You somehow ended up in this weird and odd hell, but became great friends especially with The Radio Demon, Alastor. He enjoyed hearing all your hunting stories. But today you wanted to show everyone something that was oddly terrifying for you atleast. Chucks Books.
You gathered everyone in the lobby, and you held up an old, weathered book. Its viver was faded, and only the title was unmistakable. "Supernatural." Confused filled Charlie as she asked. "What's that?" Her eyes wide with interest.
"This." You began. "Is one of God's books. Or as I knew him as Chuck." You looked around, the room silent until Angel Dust scoffed, but his curiosity got the best of him like everyone else. "God wrote a book? Like a freakin' bestseller or somethin'?" His hand gestures were flowly and animated, and he talked slow to get every detail in.
You smiled. "More than just a bestseller. Chuck wrote everything that happened in the universe. This book, and others like it, detailed the lives of two brothers and close friends of mine, Sam and Dean Winchester, who hunted supernatural creatures. Just like I did." You said, looking at the book and feeling a shiver down your spine. All those memories flown back, which soon disappeared when you looked around the room again.
Vaggie then crossed her arms, skeptical. Understandable, she seemed to have trust issues, and you were still new and throwing out this outlandish information that sadly was true. "And you expect us to believe that God was some kind of author?"
You let out a sigh, "Believe it or not," you replied flipping through the pages. "These books were like prophecies, everything written in them came true."
Alastors' eyes widened. "Fascinating! And you say this Chuck wrote your life as well?"
Your gaze met the Radio Demons, you weren't sure if he noticed your blush but you then said, "in a way yes. Every hunt, every death, every encounter with the Supernatural- it was all part of his grand narrative."
Charlie was on the edge of her seat, leaning in closer, her excitement peaked. "So, you knew about Heaven and Hell and all of this when you were alive?"
"More than you'd beileve, I hunted creatures that would make even some demons here nervous. Angel's, Demons, monsters- you name it." You said closing the book.
Angel Dust leans back in his seat, golding his arms behind his head. "So, what's next, Supernatural Girl? Are you gonna tell us how it all ends?" You smiled. "Not even Chuck wrote an ending for that story. But as for us? We're writing our own tale down here."
Alastor was very much interested which excited you because back then you didn't laugh at it when it happened but now that you are looking back at it, these sinners are learning and it makes you laugh about how crazy it sounds.
The room fell into crickets and Alastors smile never seemed to unwaver, everyones mind started to think. You looked over at Alastor and he looked back over at you.
Oh, how you were interesting, and he wanted to know everything about you.
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happilyfeatherafter · 2 months
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Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays
Good friday y'all. Welcome back to a new fortnight of fics that I’ve read and loved recently. I took my first holiday of the year and IMMEDIATELY caught a cold that knocked me out for the week but at least it meant I got reading done. Save me, destiel, save me.
If you want to find more you can see my previous rec lists here!
29 March 2024
virga(e) by @shineforthee (art by @neversleepuntilfive) has gone straight to the top of the favourite fics ever pile, oh my god you guys, please read it immediately and admire the art that inspired it as part of @deancasreversebang. This fic is a thing of beauty from start to finish. In one version of the story of Dean and Cas, we find Castiel perpetually waiting in the desert, when a 26 year old Dean stumbles upon him drawn to the location mid-hunt. They must learn to trust each other, to figure out what's causing the push and pull that bonds them. The poetry of this fic, run through with this yearning devastating emotion on their journey together, coupled with the incredibly evocatively descriptions and research into the setting, come together to make the most gorgeous picture, the desert a place that seems desolate but is teeming with life. Much like the slowburn romance that flourishes between them. It also links back to post-canon in a way that is seeded so carefully and cleverly, and made my heart explode. It's funny, romantic, devastating, emotional, moving....I can't do justice to this fic with such a short snapshot, please read it for yourselves and come yell at me about it. It's so beautiful. shineforthee also has a great 9x06 fanfic gap one shot and an ongoing wip now too and I can't wait to read that! (Somehow need any more convincing? Check out @bloodydeanwinchester's Virga(e) liveblog).
It's all very complex by artichokeflower okay that was all very serious, so let's turn to a short and sweet smut fic that had me giggling gleefully throughout. 'After walking in on Dean's private time, Cas decides to do a little research and experimentation of his own and gets magically trapped in a book about sexual fantasies. And if that means Dean has to go in after him, well what are buddies for, right?' The thing that is just GOLDEN about this fic aside from the hot smut is the dry sense of humour, borderline French Mistake parody level porn and dialogue between Dean and especially Cas which just gets them so well...the cowboy scenes in particular. Glorious: “I’m sorry, Dean. That’s the end of the erotic violence. Are you hurt?” “Is there going to be any sex in your sexy fantasies?” Dean wheezed. “Not that the whole shoot out wasn’t fun. I just wasn’t expecting as much plot is all.” He coughed. That had probably sounded too eager.
Just Being and Just Having by Englandwouldfall I have recced before but is now complete!! This the post-canon fic series delves so incredibly beautifully into Dean and Cas’ history of miscommunication and gives them the chance to truly talk things out, finding themselves falling more deeply in love as they do so and understand their own mistakes but also what makes them work so well together when they’re no longer under Chuck’s thumb. Each chapter feels like therapy and a brain and heart massage! It sticks the landing so well and I just love these boys so much.
Something Happening Somewhen by allthismusic (@folkbloodbaths, art by @eggchef) aaaahhh time travel young Dean brought to the future to meet older Dean and Cas fic trope my beloved. A @deancaspinefest fic, Allthismusic is a fan of the trope too and this fic is a gorgeous tribute to it and the fics that came before. Cas saves 24yo Dean from an accident and brings him to the future when he witnesses what his life will be. Will Cas have to remove his memories to stop a paradox? Sweet and heartfelt, a joy to read.
Books, Pies, and Roommates by @seidenapfel (art by @kitshay) is a @deancaspinefest two-person love hexagon, with some excellently farcical misdirection. Cas moves in to the spare room of Dean's house, but he doesn't meet him, he meets Sam, as Dean is busy working. Cas is professor but helps his cousin out as a barista and his favourite customer is Deano. Dean's intrigued by the barista but he's not his online penpal and best friend Angel. Lines blur, connections are made, and hearts are gonna get broken...or are they?
Tag list under the cut, let me know if you'd like to be added! Please reblog <3
@dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you
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serickswrites · 5 months
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Set Up III
Part 1 Part 2
Hero stayed in Lair a month before they worked up the courage to seek out Supervillain one on one. The villain had looked more and more exhausted each time Hero saw them, but their engagement with their team never wavered. They were so different from Superhero. 
“I want a mission,” the words tumbled out of Hero’s mouth clumsily and quickly as they stood in front of Supervillain in the garden. 
Supervillain looked up from the book in their hand. “What?”
Hero swallowed. “I want to go on a mission. I’ve been training. I’ve run them before when I…when I was with Superhero.”
Supervillain nodded. “I’m aware. I wasn’t sure you wanted to work.”
“I need to do something. I’m useless at everything here.”
Supervillain stood up. “You aren’t useless. But I’m not going to argue with you. If you want a mission, assemble your team and I’ll find something for you to do.”
“Just like that?”
Supervillain smiled. “Just like that. Meet you in the briefing room in an hour.”
“You’re not going to tell me who I should and shouldn’t bring? Or that I should run it alone?” Hero called after Supervillain’s retreating back. 
“I trust you know your abilities better than I do. If you think you can go alone, I’d ask you to reconsider, but ultimately trust your judgment. Briefing room. One hour.”
Hero had their team of five in the briefing room in fifteen minutes. They were surprised to see Supervillain was already there. “Supervillain, we can come back—“
“No need. I thought you might be early. Simple extraction job for you. Just to get your feet wet. Right Hand,” they nodded over to the minion seated at a comm station, “will guide you through each check point. And they’ll be able to get you any aid you need if you run into trouble.”
Guide? Aid? These were foreign concepts to Hero for mission work. Superhero would just tell them to do something and chuck them out. There was no discussion or offer of help. This was…different. 
“Won’t let you down!”
Supervillain looked sad. “You could never let me down, Hero.” They stood up. “I’ll be in the field not too far from you if you need me.” They nodded at Right Hand. “Any of you.”
They were out the door before Hero could think to say anything else. They had never had someone in charge of them that was so hands on. Or kind. “They’re like that. Get used to it.” Right Hand said as they settled into their station. 
The mission went off without any hiccups. Each time Hero thought they would need to call for back up, more help arrived. Each time the team met a dead end, Right Hand was in Hero’s ear guiding them to the next safe space. 
By the time Hero returned to Lair they were never more certain of anything. This. This was the place for them. They had to stay. They wanted to stay. If Supervillain would have them. 
“Congrats on your first mission success,” Supervillain said as they swung by Hero’s room after Hero had been home an hour. “Heard you did a fantastic job.”
“Thank you,” Hero said as they felt their cheeks burn. 
“Keep it up, Hero. Really, you’re doing great here.” Supervillain turned to leave. 
Now was their chance! “I want to stay.”
Supervillain turned around to stare down at Hero. “You do?”
Hero nodded. “If you’ll have me.”
“Of course I’ll have you. But I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t. Working for you—“
“With you,” Supervillain corrected. “We’re a team.”
Hero blushed. “Working with you has been unlike anything I’ve experienced. Everyone here is so…kind.”
Supervillain smiled. “I would be delighted if you stayed, Hero.”
“And another thing. I think I should change my name. Superhero changed my name when I started to work for them.”
Supervillain frowned. “I’d love to know why they name all their apprentices the same thing. What would you like to be called?”
“Villain.” Hero Villain said proudly. “I think you’ve more than set me up for success.”
Supervillain smiled. “The person responsible for that set up is you, Villain. Welcome to the team.”
Tags: @severalonions @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @st0rmm @newgait @random-writers-sideblog @thenamesmobu @whoelseuprebloging @hhabaddon2 @zokazoma13 @jkl-uwu @mooseontheloose21 @hittingthebrainsfunnybone @laurenhufflepuff2 @writinglike-illdie @crow-with-a-typewriter @myv1lla1nacadem1a @lorlibrary @bluelovestoship @whumpedydump @ann-whispers @otherwiseiamnotallowedtoscroll @starlightsphinx @captainskeleboi @jackthecrimekangarooekangaroo @wafflenuka @meltedgallium @justparkerpots @writingpromptsfordays @whatinteresthave @idiotswitcher @smooth-orange-pebble @generoushelpingofwhump @halfseafog @ksfallingthroughlife @blipblipbloop @saltyontheside @nebulousboundsfloof @uniquezombiedestiny @i-love-chocolates @clever-kills @whumpitywhumpwhump @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @frostmaster1000 @just-a-space-rabbit @daemonvatis @hopefullywritingahit
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pix3lplays · 11 months
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OMG I IUST READ UR POST ABT MENTOR!READER DYING AND IT WAS GOOD OMG 😭😭😭
Can I req to get like a uh- happy ending to that post? Where Mentor!Reader gets resurrected/revived somehow and they like- DEFLECT A BLOW FOR THEIR STUDENT INSTEAD OF TAKING THE BLOW FOR THEM? 😃✨
Same characters! Love ur works sm omg its not fair 💀 gimme your talent or istg I'll chuck your coffee machine into the ocean (/j /j)
My poor coffee machine under constant threat🥲
But AAAAAA thank you so much, I appreciate your kind words more than I can express!! Gonna change it juuuust a bit to where they take the hit but survive.
Cw: violence, blood
-Honkai Star Rail men and Mentor!reader happy ending-
Dan Heng: You’ve never seen Dan Heng look so…shaken up and worried before as he holds your bleeding body close, and begs you to hang on. Help is coming. It’s the last thing you hear before you pass out. He spends his nights by your hospital bed, waiting for you to wake up from what was hopefully not an eternal slumber. And one day, your eyes do flutter open, and there’s your student, loyally sitting by your bedside, reading a book, awaiting the day you wake up. Awaiting this day. He’s so excited, so happy. But he’s not great at expressing just how deep his happiness goes. He stands up and smiles at you, and welcomes you back, and that’s about the extent of the happiness he can express, but he’s much more relieved and joyful than he shows. And as his teacher, you can tell just how happy he is to be reunited with you. He doesn’t leave your side for a whole month.
Gepard Landau: is holding you, so close, so tightly, so scared your too far gone, until he notices it…you’re still breathing. He wants to be angry with you for going that far for him. He tries yelling at you, but his voice is shaky and tears are steaming down his face, and he just seems more relieved and happy then annoyed at you. You can’t help but force out a painful laugh. It was so interesting to see him like this. You’ll certainly never forget this experience. He doesn’t stop the berating until you’re finally able to apologize for taking what was almost a fatal hit for him. Then he leans back on his knees, releasing you finally, and makes you PROMISE to never do that again. You know you can’t promise that. The two of you might argue about it actually, but deep down you both care for each other, and you’re both going to be more careful in the future. Next time he’s the one that’s going to take the hit, whether you like it or not.
Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan is terrified for one small moment that he’s just lost another dear mentor, before you shakily breath out, “wow…that really hurt…” He smiles at you, laughs, helps you to your feet as he tells you that what you just did was extremely foolish and dangerous, and that people are gonna start thinking He’s the teacher and You’re the reckless student. He doesn’t really show just how scared he was. He was genuinely terrified, but he hides that behind his charming smile and the way he says he’s so happy you’re okay. But he’s secretly so terrified of losing you. Sometimes he dreams about you dying and leaving him all alone in this world. But it’s okay, he reminds himself when he wakes up in a cold sweat. You’re okay right now, and you’re not going anywhere. It takes a lot more than That to kill you, he knows.
Luocha: Luocha frantically utilizes every healing technique he knows, and to his relief, your eyes flutter open as you gasp for air. He’s done it. He’s successfully saved your life. Oh he wants to be mad. Wants to be upset you almost betrayed him and left him alone in this world. But instead, once he’s sure you’re properly healed enough so that he won’t hurt you, he pulls you into a hug. “You must be more careful in the future,” is all he says, and he’s the most tense you’ve ever seen him. You were really lucky your dear student happened to be a healer like Luocha. He keeps a careful eye on you after the incident. He doesn’t want you pulling another stunt like that again, and if you do try, he’s quick to intervene. He got lucky that he was able to heal you once, he can’t guarantee he’ll get lucky again. So he’s quick to be protective of you. He’s not ready to let you leave him alone in this world just yet.
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ineffable-suffering · 9 months
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Demonic Mental Health Awareness Post
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i'm not sure if occult beings are technically capable of suffering from mental illnesses but, watching S2 for the nth time now, i'm pretty sure that ever since Armageddon didn't happen, crowley has simply been a little, well ... depressed.
(just in case, a mild TW: depression, trauma, mental illness)
like, one of the firsts things we hear him say (to shax, out of all people) is: "do you ever think: what's the point of it all? heaven, hell, angels, demons, it's all ... pointless." which– whoof, that's heavy. i mean, fair enough, he's got a point, but it's still one hell (pun intended) of a statement to chuck out as one of the first things he says this season.
i think the way that crowley and aziraphale processed Armageddon is .. very different. we see aziraphale at the beginning of S2:
happy as always in his surroundings
chatting to the people in his whickber street community
buying music
humming along to it in his bookshop
and just frolicking, as he always does
crowley, however, is:
sitting alone on The park bench
questioning the meaning of existence
while also technically being homeless
and living in his car
for ... no apparent reason other than not being bothered to miracle himself up a new flat
of course, crowley's always been a bit of a grumpy goth boyfriend. but it doesn't take a licensed therapist to figure out that he's clearly Going Through something. and it makes sense, if you think about it. surely, Armageddon was traumatic for both of them. but i think aziraphale does have a bit more of a safety net to fall back on. he's got his shop, his books, his music and some of his neighbours he seems to like and know. and, of course, he has crowley. who's always just a phone call away and who he, as we are told, calls when pretty much anything does or doesn't happen.
crowley's main hobby and somewhat safe space used to be his plants and his flat, but those are kinda gone too now/crammed into the bentley and he clearly hasn't been able to move on yet since he a) hasn't bothered to get a new flat and (what i think is an even bigger indicator of him not being okay) b) hasn't told aziraphale yet. ("we talk all the time!" yup, but clearly not about the things that matter, hm?)
it's been four years. four years in which, seemingly, aziraphale had few issues with falling back into his old flow, picking up his hobbies again and even making more friends around Soho. and four years in which crowley lost his flat, most of his plants and apparently his will to change anything about it or share it with aziraphale.
having been through major depressive episodes myself, this does *david tennant voice* bingle-bongle-dingle-dangle all my alarm bells.
because people cope with trauma in different ways. some better than others. and crowley, having Major Unresolved Trauma from his Fall, always having been rather unhappy with the work he'd been doing for hell (aka only getting credit for things he didn't do and sort of messing up things he did do) and also having to face the fact that the angel he was head over heels in love with kept turning him down over and over again for reasons he didn't understand ... well, it didn't set him up for a great post-not-so-much-the-end-of-the-world start.
and sometimes, being forced to keep running under kinda shitty conditions (such as a crappy job or trying to chase after the love of your life) still keeps you running. but once that all stopped, once aziraphale and crowley were (at least for the time being) free of heaven and hell and could finally just live their lives, crowley seems to just have retreated further back into himself. questioning the whole meaning of existence and not really talking about it to the one person he'd always wanted to be with. which makes sense because more than anything, crowley wants to protect aziraphale. and he‘s definitely the type of demon person to think that sharing your struggles means burdening someone else with them. oh crowley, you and me would have so much to talk about, babe.
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so yeah. the world almost ended. and then it just went back to normal. and i think crowley is still stuck somewhere between thinking he'd lost his best friend and love of his life in a fire, almost being anihilated by his satanic boss and then everything simply snapping back into the way it always was – within the span of a day. no wonder he's finding it a little hard to move on.
---
(addendum: there's a great piece of fanfiction called "Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach" that deals exactly with that trauma, in which crowley goes to see a therapist. incredible character study and brilliant writing.)
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