#terrible car accident on the highway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silkjade · 2 years

Text

genshin men x driving

this is so dumb but it had to be said. I've been driving for a while so a lot of these are taken from irl experiences I've had myself or from friends. also I'm american so this is based on driving in the u.s. | modern au, humor, fluff, reckless driving

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐭

albedo ;; he has a habit of driving on the inner most lane of the highway but he doesn’t start switching to the exit lane until like 1 exit before. drove klee to the beach once 2 years ago and is still somehow finding sand in his car. all his turns are super wide

diluc ;; probably drives a very classic luxury car, like an aston martin or something. it’s sleek, it’s black, it’s giving batmobile because he drove with his high beams on for like 6 months and doesn’t get why it’s bad. it makes the road brighter he says as he blinds everyone going the other way. drives stick shift (manual), very hot when he reverses and puts his arm around the passenger seat

kaeya ;; he was the first person to get his license and everyone would ask him for rides, so now he drives a tiny sports car that doesn't fit anything. it’s also a luxury car but it’s flashier than diluc’s. follows driving laws to the T except for the fact that he never fully stops at stop signs

venti ;; an okay driver but it’s a terrible experience. you're amazed at how he hasn't run into any trouble yet. like at all. the kind of person who would try to run the yellow light except he’s doesn’t make it and is forced to brake really hard and just goes like "is everyone ok ehe.” you almost die and he says “oops”

𝐥𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐞

xiao ;; pet peeve: slow drivers. absolutely cannot stand sitting in traffic so he rides a motorcycle. always weaving in between cars but does it significantly less if you’re riding with him. has yanfei on speed dial in case of an accident. doesn’t know he’s super hot when he takes off his helmet and shakes his hair

zhongli ;; a slow driver. goes under the speed limit on the highway and gets cut off like no tomorrow. he doesn't think he's the problem though, just complains about how everyone is going way too fast. safety king. fakes injury for insurance money when someone hits him; only feels kind of bad

𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐚

ayato ;; has a driver that takes him everywhere because he does not drive, doesn't even have a license. passed his written exam with flying colors but failed on all three tries behind-the-wheel. his younger sister drives the car their parents bought for him. always likes tweets that are like “hot people don’t have their license”

gorou ;; family van kind of guy. very reliable and will drive you to the airport or help you move. doesn’t signal when switching lanes though which is kind of annoying. gets anxious driving in areas where there are a lot of one ways. always buys fruits from vendors selling it on the side of the road

heizou ;; drives with the top down, windows down and will make you feel like a coming of age movie protagonist. has the best driving playlist but will still hand you the aux if you ask. doesn’t pay for street parking though; parking meter? never heard of her

itto ;; car guy ™ who goes to car meets and mods his car. revs his engine when he sees his friends on the road but other than that he's actually a really good driver. takes very good care of his car— that’s his baby. he’s hot when he backs into parking spaces perfectly. blasts his music too loud at night though

kazuha ;; public transport icon. somehow never misses his bus/train/whatever and always manages to squeeze on even during rush hour. he tells people it's for the environment but that’s only half true. it's not that he can't drive, he just has the jankiest car; it's old as hell, has a dent on one side, and the passenger door doesn't even open from the inside

thoma ;; shining example of a perfect driver, the dmv wants him to do all their instructional videos. was only ever pulled over once before for swerving, but talked his way out of a ticket because he was trying to avoid hitting an animal. has those family stickers on his rear windshield except it's one man and like 3 dogs

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐮

al haitham ;; probably has an suv because he thinks it’s the most useful car and can get the most out of it. almost exclusively listens to audiobooks while driving. he had a great record until he accidentally rear ended a bus because he turned around to argue with kaveh in the backseat and now his car insurance is insanely high

cyno ;; super responsible driver, both hands on the wheel at 9 and 3 at all times. secretly really wants a retired police car because he thinks the idea of people suddenly slowing down when they see him on the road, thinking it’s a cop, is hilarious. names his car something stupid like attila the hyundai

kaveh ;; terrible at directions, his gps is constantly saying “rerouting” because he keeps missing turns and exits. cannot parallel park to save his life and will ask you to switch and park for him. generally a polite driver but if he's ever behind al haitham at a stop light, he beeps his horn at him 0.2 seconds after the light turns green

tighnari ;; his trunk is always full of plants and bags of soil, fertilizer, etc. has mild road rage; if he’s forced to brake hard because someone cut him off, especially while he has the right of way, he’s yelling in the car like “I should’ve hit you” because insurance would be on his side. carries snacks in his glove compartment, soccer mom energy

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

childe ;; exclusively uses the term 'my tesla' instead of 'my car.' he insists on having it self drive to you from the parking lot; it takes forever and more often than not, it'd be faster to just walk. doesn't matter how far away he is, he's gonna go for that yellow light, it's a race against time and he's gonna win. one hand on the wheel, one hand on your thigh

dainsleif ;; drives in silence, no music no radio— nothing; sometimes he'll listen to self help podcasts though. a lot of the times he zones out and doesn’t know how he got from point a to point b. sits in his car for like half an hour after arriving home. likes holding your hand while driving

dottore ;; mutters “this would be a good place to dump a body” whenever he drives past a ditch. got pulled over for driving in the carpool lane by himself and using a mannequin to fake a passenger. they also found a bunch of questionable things in his car that he swears is for science. no longer drives because his license got revoked

pantalone ;; his car is immaculately clean. charges you for gas and makes you wipe your shoes before stepping in. always wants to stop for coffee first before going anywhere. has a lot of money but doesn’t know shit about cars so he gets way overcharged at bodyshops

scaramouche ;; says things like “I will crash this car right now” if he’s arguing with someone. hates backseat drivers and will threaten to kick you out if you are one. sometimes speeds down an empty highway at night just to feel something but drives extra carefully when nahida’s around. parks in the far corner of a supermarket parking lot to cry

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaeya x reader #dottore x reader #genshin impact imagines

3K notes · View notes

sunnyskiesscareme · 5 months

Text

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Summary: Quinn makes it up to his girlfriend after a date gone wrong. Quinn Hughes x reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, mdni

Notes: This is my first time posting smut. Please be kind. Also, I hate proofreading so much

Y/n’s boots sloshed with rain as she stepped through the front door, frowning at the mat that did very little to stop the muck from getting on their clean floors. She took them off, cringing when she stepped on the wet ends of her jeans that were just too big for her. Anything for fashion.

She pulled her pants higher up her waist and tugged her wet socks off. Quinn kissed her forehead apologetically when she sat on the bench in their entrance way.

“I don’t wanna spend the rest of our date night cleaning the floors.” He whined, sitting down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, uncaring how her wet hair stuck to his neck.

“It’s not too bad,” she said. As long as their shoes stayed where they were at the door, the rest of the floors wouldn’t get as dirty. “Hasn’t been much of a date night anyway.”

Quinn frowned. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

He truly had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t his fault that the date night had gone so terribly so fast. They’d both known about the little check-up doctors appointment he had booked for that afternoon, they just hadn’t known about the bad accident that had happened on the highway and the traffic it had caused- paired with Vancouvers usual crazy traffic.

They hadn’t known that you had to be less than 5 minutes late to keep your reservation at this fancy, stuck-up restaurant. Quinn didn’t take a liking to the man at the front, who looked at Y/n for a little too long in all the wrong places. They got kicked out quickly.

They didn’t know it was going to rain, not bothering to check the weather beforehand as they had assumed they would be under the roof of an expensive restaurant, instead of walking around the whole night.

Quinn knew how long his girlfriend had taken to get ready, getting dolled up and styling her hair in bouncy curls, only for them to go flat when they got wet. He panicked when he saw the dark mascara smudging her cheeks, and only slightly relaxed when she assured him it was just the rain.

They didn’t know they’d have to get home so early, so they had let one of Quinn’s teammates borrow his car for the night with the promise that he’d drive them home afterwards. That had all fallen out of place, and they made do with an Uber that took forever to find them.

She shook her head at him with a reassuring smile. “Not your fault. I’m just glad we had a night together at all. Busy times lately.”

Her drying hair had begun to frizz up, and Quinn tried to smooth it with his hand. He had no luck with that and tucked it behind her ear instead. “I know…” he muttered, giving her painted lips a quick kiss.

She stood to remove her jacket and Quinn followed to help her. He hung it up when it was off and pulled her close to him, his palm splayed on her lower back as she fiddled with the chain around his neck.

"You’re so pretty," he said, his index finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. Three simple words, which she heard from him every day, and she still felt weak in her knees. She fell into him, burying her pink face into his white t-shirt. She put no effort into keeping herself upright- he was there to catch her if she fell, he was there to hold her.

"Don't hide, baby." His words were muffled against the top of her head, getting lost in her hair. He pressed a kiss there and sighed when the scent of her lavender shampoo hit his nose. "Look at me."

Y/n tilted her head, following his order, but her cheek stayed smushed against his chest, and Quinn gave her a smile. God, she loved that smile. She wished he showed it to the world a little more often. He brought one hand to her neck, petting the soft skin under her jaw, and his other palm splayed against her back under her shirt. She giggled when the thin fabric tickled her spine.

"Come sit with me," he said, already making his way to the couch. He kept her pressed against him as he walked, giving her no chance to decline- not that she'd ever want to. The walk was short, and though she couldn't see from where she pressed against his chest, she knew they had made it when she felt him move his hands to the back of her thighs, picking her up and falling backward onto the cushion. She straddled his thighs and lifted her head to press light kisses along his neck, starting at the collar of his shirt and ending just below his ear. Quinn leaned back with a shaky sigh, giving her hip a squeeze when she shifted on his lap.

She felt shuffling from underneath her, but only stopped nibbling his ear when she heard the tv turn on behind her. She pulled away from him and pushed his arm back down from where it hung beside her, turning the volume higher. "Am I boring you, or?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"No baby," he assured, his hand running up and down her waist. His lips quirked, "Just makin' sure the neighbors don't hear what I'm hoping you're planning on doin' with me here."

She snorted but didn't say anything back, squeezing both of his cheeks and pressing a smiley kiss to his puckered lips. His right hand traveled under her shirt again, and his fingers tickled her spine as he tried to unclasp her bra. She pulled away again when she felt his lips stop moving against hers. She giggled at the concentration laced in his features, his eyes still closed. "Need some help back there?"

"No," he declined quickly. "I've got it." He huffed when he pulled on the clasp for what he estimated was the 6th time, cursing when it, again, didnt give. Y/n wouldve felt bad at the defeated expression on his face before he moved to look at it behind her if she didnt find it so endearing. "The hell?"

Y/n laughed. "It's new."

Quinn let out a breath when he finally got it undone and Y/n laughed harder. "Just fuckin' kiss me." he huffed, leaning back again and pulling her in to crash his lips against hers. He slipped his fingers under the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, taking that goddamn bra with it and throwing it away as far as he could. Y/n gasped at the sound of a crash behind her, and whipped her head around to see an old vase shattered on the wood floors, her shirt and bra bundled on top. "The fuck is wrong with me?" he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

She chuckled and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Aw, sweetheart. I think it's cute how clumsy I make you." She pressed another kiss to his cheek when he threw his head back with an embarrassed whine. Then another. Then another. "We'll clean it later. We’re a bit preoccupied at the moment."

She kissed his lips this time, smiling when he regained enough confidence to bring his hand back up to smooth over her ribs, the tips of his thumbs brushing against her breasts. She whined when he swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, his strong hand gently cupping her breast. She felt a wave of adoration for the man, her heart swelling at how tender he always was with her. "I love you."

His other hand swiped some stray hair away from her eyes, breathing hot air onto her lips, "I love you so much baby,” he suddenly flipped her, so she was the one sitting on the soft cushion and knelt in front of her. “Lemme show you just how much.”

Both of his arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her to the edge of the seat. He held her in a hug for a moment before pressing wet kisses to the insides of her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair and he looked up at her through his long lashes, and she swore she had never seen a more beautiful thing.

A thumb brushed against her nipple and she breathed when it peaked. He trailed more kisses down her middle in a straight line and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans. She lifted her hips for him to pull them off and squeezed her thighs when she was fully bare. He grabbed one of her knees in each hand and stroked the tops with his thumbs, urging them open.

“Quinny-” she cut herself off with a gasp when he nipped the inside of her thigh. He soothed the skin with his tongue. “Quinny, this isn’t fair.”

He looked up at her with raised brows. “What’s not fair?”

“This.” She said, and suddenly she was fisting the fabric of his t-shirt right at his collar, and he grinned. “This needs to go.”

“Anything you want, baby.” He stayed knelt in between her legs on the ground in front of her as he tugged his shirt above his head. His grin grew wider when he felt her lean forward and urge the fabric off faster. Y/n rolled her eyes fondly when he placed the shirt neatly on the coffee table behind him, making sure no more vases were harmed.

She flattened her palms on his toned chest and strong shoulders for a brief moment before he dove back into her thighs, and despite wanted to pet and stroke him a little longer, she didn’t put up much of a fight. Not that she could when his kisses were growing more heated and trailing closer and closer to her core. She squeezed his head with her thighs when he poked at her clit with his tongue, but he made no move to stop her.

Her ankles crossed behind his head, and he stroked her pussy with his index underneath her. He groaned at the slick. He brought his other hand up to grope at her breasts. “You enjoying yourself?”

“Does it feel like it?” She managed to breath out, only failing at keeping her voice steady.

“Yes.”

“That’s ‘cause I am.” She moaned, tugging harshly on his hair, then smoothing it out because she thought she might have pulled too hard. That didn’t seem to be the case, however, when he sucked on her clit and slipped a finger inside her with a groan, the sound sending shivers through her entire body.

She pushed her hips further into his face, surprising herself with how that was even possible, and moaned again when he flexed his knuckle inside her.

His knees started to ache, ground hard against the wooden floor, fingers deep in her cunt for what he was sure were the most enjoyable few minutes of his life. It took everything in him to stop just before she came, wanting to see her come undone on his fingers, but wanting to see her come undone on his cock even more. He cooed at her when she whined, picking himself up to press a loving, wet kiss on her temple. He held her hands for a moment before bringing them to his waistband, knowing that giving her the honours of undressing him would cheer her up.

It did, and she pulled his pants down eagerly. She subconsciously bit her bottom lip when she saw his shaft stand proud against his pelvis, and Quinn grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Do I tell you enough how fucking sexy you are? ‘Cause I’ll happily do it more.”

His fingers slid across her jaw as she replied with a cheeky grin, “You say it plenty, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear even more.”

He kissed her, hard. She moaned when his tongue flicked against her own- her lips were sure to still be swollen from this kiss tomorrow morning. He shuddered when she gripped him, rubbing the slick from his tip all over with her thumb. He cursed and grabbed the underside of her knee, throwing it up so her ankle rested on his shoulder. He put his hand on her own and helped her guide his cock into her, slowly and gently pushing further as she adjusted.

“Shit, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” She admitted when he finally bottomed out.

He leaned close to her, their foreheads almost touching when he softly caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You okay, baby?”

“Perfectly!” She nodded quickly. “You’re just so big.”

“Fuck, honey,” he breathed, letting his head fall into the crook of her neck. “You can’t say shit like that. Gonna make me cum already.”

She giggled. “Sorry.”

He pressed kisses to her shoulder, his thrusts slow and purposeful. She stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, pretty moans leaving her lips. She let her other hand wander over his strong shoulders, and she giggled when he nuzzled into her neck in response, the hair of his beard tickling her skin.

“God, Quinn, don’t you ever shave again.” She said, somewhere in between pleading and demanding.

“What? You into mountain men?” He teased, and a sudden dark red flushed her cheeks knowing he could be so deep inside her and still make her laugh.

“That’s what trims are for.”

He lifted his head up to kiss her, straightening his spine and moving faster. Small whimpers turned to loud, guttural moans when she reached down to toy with her own clit for a moment.

He brought her right leg up to mirror her left on his shoulder, gripping her thighs as he pounded her. His eyes roamed her body underneath him and had to close his eyes for a moment to stop from cumming at the sight of her breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts. It did little to help him, the scene replaying in his mind over and over again, and he became sloppy with his movements. Desperate not to finish before her and ruin their not-so-perfect night for good, he replaced her fingers with his own, rubbing harsh shapes on her clit again. His head dipped as far as it could without completely folding her in half to suck bruises into her collarbone.

She threw her head back with a cry, and warned him of what was to come.

“Let go baby, c’mon, cum all over my cock,” he urged, and groaned when he felt her tight squeeze. “Shit,” he stuttered out. It only took a few more thrusts after her to finish, and he stayed slumped on top of her even when he finally stilled.

She brought her shaky legs down from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist, letting him fall into her further. She twirled her fingers through his dark hair, lightly scratching his scalp as their breathing returned to normal. She sighed, “Date night worked out after all.”

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #huggy bear #sunnyspouts #quin hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x fem!reader

362 notes · View notes

dear-ao3 · 6 months

Note

omg fuck route 22

EVIL PLACE

for all you lucky bastards who have never experienced the horrors of route 22, allow me to explain.

the whole road is evil and awful but there is one absolutely batshit godawful section. it’s so bad.

imagine you are on a highway. a standard normal 2 lane highway each way. and it’s not an ultra fast high way, there’s stores on either side. you know, little strip malls, restaurants, more car dealers than you knew possible. and then you get to hell.

the road shifts. a median opens up. and suddenly, there are not just shops on either side of the road BUT ALSO IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. yes, three sections of shops. THREE. and you might be thinking, well what if the store i want to go to is on the other side of the highway? worry not! there’s u turn lanes every like 200 feet! and this is new jersey, and no one can drive. it is evil and awful.

there are more accidents where people drive into the back of the car in front of them when trying to enter the road than actually on the road.

you can see here where it splits and the median starts. evil and terrible. you can also see one of the u turns at the start there. those are also evil and terrible. also i don’t think there are any traffic lights on this stretch. it’s all balls to the wall and jersey slides left right and center.

this also shows the death part pretty well

that big strip in the middle is the median. there’s u turns through the median every 200 ish feet. you can imagine how hellish this is.

everyone is trying to turn either left or right to get into a store or a parking lot or exit onto a different road. it is hell. stay away from nj route 22.

#not a tag #from saph #route 22

210 notes · View notes

mrsquill · 9 months

Text

Alone and Forsaken

Summary: Joel is on his way to bail Tommy out of Travis County jail, having left Sarah behind sleeping. He soon realises something has gone terribly wrong with the world, and he and Tommy are desperate to save her. Basically: my interpretation of the truck journey back to the Millers to rescue Sarah, on the night of the outbreak in the HBO version. Based on this piece I wrote.

Notes: This took it out of me: I rewatched both the HBO series and the game scenes leading up to/after this to get into the right headspace, and it really did a number on me. This follows the events of the show, however feel free to interpret it however you wish! Please don’t hate me - this fic is quite sad, so please don’t continue if you feel it’ll upset you. Special thanks to @mandrillusphinx for the idea.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of violence and blood, potentially distressing content.

Slamming the truck door harder than he meant to, Joel cursed his little brother under his breath. Fuckin’ Tommy. Couldn’t even keep his shit together on his birthday. He knew it’d been a bad idea as he’d watched Tommy go earlier that night; they’d had a shitty day at work, the hours dragging on, more and more problems cropping up on site. His brother’s solution? Head into the city when they were done, hit a couple bars and drink till his back didn’t hurt anymore. Tommy knew better than to invite Joel. He’d never had that kind of freedom; becoming a father unexpectedly at 22 would do that to anyone - not that Joel resented it for a moment.

He thought of his daughter, now, as he headed along the highway towards Travis County jail to bail his shithead brother out, ready for Tommy’s lazy excuses. Guilt pooled in his stomach. The fuckin’ cake. The fuckin’ watch. Sarah was his blessing; his biggest achievement, and more often than not he felt he was letting her down as another year of fatherhood passed him by. She was growing up, blossoming into a young woman, as beautiful as her mother had been before her. He knew he ought to treasure the twilight years of just the two of them. Joel was seeing his baby through college and beyond, no doubt about that.

He couldn’t forget Sarah’s words, eating away at him as they had been for the last hour or so as he struggled to concentrate on Curtis & Viper 2, her other birthday gift. You were never gonna do it for yourself. Joel tried to escape the notion that his kid was doing a better job of parenting than he was. His baby was polite, popular; Joel swelled with pride at parent teacher conferences and at school pickups, overhearing comments from some of the other parents. She’d had to grow up quicker than her peers, and she’d taken it in her stride.

He resolved to take a couple days off that weekend; head out hiking with Sarah like they did every year for his birthday. It was their favourite thing to do together, and he hadn’t made enough effort so far this year. Joel needed to make the most of it before he lost her entirely to soccer practice and sleepovers, or when she inevitably thought she was too cool to hang out with her old man. Tommy already did a good enough job of making him feel like a fuckin’ dinosaur. Small steps first, though: don’t forget the fuckin’ cake. Again.

Joel sighed; scrubbing a hand over his face, weary to the bone as he tried to concentrate on his driving. It was only then, pulled from his reverie, that he noticed the stream of traffic flooding past. Cop car lights dazzled him; he counted a dozen in less than a minute, speeding erratically on the highway. He felt the smallest frisson of fear. What the fuck? An accident? A bomb? Police activity in Austin on a Friday night was not unusual, but the numbers were unnerving. He was driving into in the city now; a journey he knew like the back of his hand. But as he travelled further; Joel began to feel a strange sort sickness, unimaginable chaos unfolding before him.

It all happened so fast. It flashed by as he headed for the jail on autopilot: cops scuffling with bystanders on the sidewalk, smashed glass and smeared blood, and people running - sprinting - seemingly for their lives. In every direction, with no thought for the road or whatever may be on it, any sense of human instinct totally abandoned. Bodies on the floor as helicopters thundered loudly overhead; white beams casting a horrifying light on the scene playing out before him. Joel turned the radio up, chasing an explanation; terror sliding down his spine like sweat in the summertime. A monotonous voice filled the cab of the truck: “This is a National Security Alert. Return to your homes, and stay there. Further instructions will be announced in due course. This is a National-“ he switched it off, heart leaping into his mouth. Sarah.

Joel rounded the corner much too fast; headlights miraculously landing on Tommy, eyes wild as he sprinted toward the truck, people fleeing into the darkness around him. “Move the fuck over, Joel! Let me drive!” his brother was yelling, and Joel slid across the bench, half in shock. “How’d you get out-“ Joel began, but Tommy was firm, temporarily more composed than his older brother. The military man in him. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, Joel. We gotta get outta here, away from all these people,” he said darkly, pulling off the sidewalk. “Where’s Sarah?” he asked, wiping sweat off his brow. “At home, asleep,” Joel whispered, feeling bile rise in his throat.

Tommy cursed loudly, foot to the floor as he navigated out of the city; Joel tried to center his breathing, anxiety washing over him in an endless tide. He couldn’t drag his eyes from the windows. People hunched over bodies.. Robbing them? Murdering them? Was it some kind of poisoning in the water supply? Psychedelic drugs gone wrong? Protesting taken too far? Civil unrest? Cars were rammed into one another, power lines were faltering and storefronts were on fire. “Tommy, what the fuck is happenin’? What do you know?” Joel demanded. He hated the loss of control; the world was falling apart around him and he’d left his daughter at home. Alone. Defenceless. In the one place she should be safe.

“I overheard a nurse, sayin’ it could be some sorta new virus, people attackin’ each other and shit like that,” Tommy rambled nervously, “You remember that stuff goin’ on in Jakarta? On the radio this mornin’? Well, looks like it’s happenin’ here.” Joel did remember his birthday breakfast that morning. It felt like a different life, a million miles away, a normalcy that had been torn to shreds. Reprimanding Sarah for the egg shells, hustling her out the door for school. Sarah. His baby. “I left her, Tommy. I fuckin’… I just left her, in her bed,” Joel muttered, anger at himself curled in his chest.

“You lock the door?” his brother asked, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Of course I did,” Joel spat, watching - waiting - for each street sign and junction, counting down the minutes. “She’ll be fine,” Tommy tried to quietly reassure him, “bet ya she won’t’ve moved an inch.” Joel ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, dripping in sweat, praying his brother was right. She’d be there, sure she would. Curled up with her sneakers on still. Right where he’d left her. Nobody could get into the house, he knew that much. Not unless they tried very fucking hard.

The disorder seemed to dissipate a little as they headed away from the city center; a tiny comfort. “Joel, this guy at the bar? The reason they called the fuckin’ cops?” Tommy started, “I ain’t ever seen shit like that in my life. I couldn’t stand there and let it happen. Dude was fuckin’ crazy, tryin’ to bite this waitress. Like he had a disease or some shit. He was twitchin’ all over, too. Maybe it’s a parasite,” he shrugged.

The blood in Joel’s veins had long since turned to ice, his brother’s story solidifying it. “Tommy, you fuckin’ get us home, and you get us there now,” Joel urged, feeling his heartbeat accelerating. His daughter’s name was a mantra in his head, repeating with each frantic thrum of his pulse. He was taking charge; Sarah needed him, and so did his brother. He hadn’t failed them yet, and he sure wasn’t gonna start now. “Rifle in the back?” he asked, Tommy nodding solemnly. Joel leaned over, grateful for something to do. Five minutes till home.

Equipping himself with a wrench, Joel urged Tommy on. Images flicked over and over in his brain like a sickening picture show: Sarah, her dark eyes - his eyes - wide with fear, her breath quickening, screaming for him, her father, who’d abandoned her in the darkness. No. He shook his head, physically, ridding himself of the nightmare. “What about the neighbours, Joel?” Tommy asked. “The Adlers? Denise, and the kids? Should we warn ‘em? Take ‘em with us?” Joel shook his head; again, more furiously this time. “Like hell, Tommy. We don’t even have a fuckin’ plan. Best we can do is tell them to stay inside,” he said irritably, guilt ever-present and swirling in his guts.

“So, what do we do?” Tommy asked plainly, earlier bravado deserting him. It always worked this way. Whatever Joel said, Tommy did. “I don’t.. I don’t know,” Joel mumbled, voice cracking. “We grab Sarah and we get the fuck out. No time for anythin’ else.” Tommy was nodding; orders received and heard. “Get a fuckin’ move on, Tommy!” Joel slammed a hand on the dash.

The cul-de-sac loomed into view: it was eerily, deathly quiet, besides a car alarm in the distance. “Come on, come on,” Joel pleaded, adrenaline coursing through him, homing in on his daughter. His purpose, all that mattered in the world. “There, Joel. I can see her!” Tommy pointed up ahead, outside the Adlers. Sarah was running. Fleeing, like he’d seen everybody do in the city. From the unknown, from danger, from death. But she was alive: her face caught in the glow of the headlights. Terrified and alone. But Joel was here now. He’d save her. Because he didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t.

#joel miller #sarah miller #tommy miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #sarah miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #my stuff

182 notes · View notes

tomieafterdark · 1 year

Note

neow... im gonna need a p 2 of this cuzzzz...

pairing: fem!reader x bully!Eren

cw: use of brat, good girl and princess, fingering (anal and vaginal), exhibitionism (did I even spell that right..).

part one 🍧

masterlist 🍒

…part two 💌

You were just staring at the floor. That idiot Eren really went and got a janitor when he could’ve pulled you out himself, you are sure you flashed the janitor a few times wile they were getting you out…“And why isn’t me leaving you alone, I’m out now he can leave…” you thought to yourself.

Eren was enjoying the shame and shock on your face, the look of trying to process what had just happened and simultaneously wanting to run away and never think about what happened. He wanted more, what had happened didn’t satisfy him it just awakened something more terrible and sadistic in him.

The janitor looks at Eren with a concerned look. “Is she okay now..?”

Eren puts on his nice fellow student mask and it has the janitor so fooled. “Yeah, I think she will be okay but I should probably drive her home.”

“Yes you do that, you’re such a good classmate looking out for her. We need more students like you” the janitor says and smiles at Eren.

“Come on y/n. I’ll drive you home. You can’t walk home like this, you’re a mess.” He coos at you with his gross fake concern that somehow has the whole world fooled. If they only knew..

Somehow Eren and the Janitor force you to go home with Eren. It’s so uncomfortable to walk with him especially because it got so windy suddenly, fuck even the wind gods seem to be on his side today because sometimes the wind blows too hard lifting your skirt up giving Eren a perfect view as he walks behind you.

“Alright Eren which one is your dumb car?” You say as you glare at him.

He just smirks in return, walks up to his car and opens the door for you. “Get in princess.”

Eren calling you princess makes you want to squeeze your legs together, it makes you want to grind on something or someone..

“Y/n how long do you want me to hold this fucking door for you? Get in brat.”

You quickly get in and put on your seatbelt, his car is nice inside and out you gotta give him that.

“You like?” Eren smirks at you.

“Guess it’s okay” you reply in an uninterested tone.

“Such a brat, is it not expensive enough for you? Want me to drive home and pick another car?”

You had almost forgotten how rich this asshole was thanks to his dads medicine company, he bought cars like they were cheap toys. After driving out of the college parking lot and general town area, he drives off to the highway. You’re kind of panicked because you really want to go home. “Eren what the fuck I live 10 mins from the college why are we on the highway?”

“Y/n I had so much fun with you today, I just didn’t want our day to end so soon. We should seriously get to know each other more..” that last bit of his sentence sent chills down your spine. It made you feel hazy but remembering how deep his fingers reached earlier and the orgasm you had makes you squeeze your legs again.

Before you can think any further, he speeds up to 125 miles per hour, with cars everywhere on the highway rendering you quite speechless. You’re grasping onto anything in the car at this point, Eren is anything but a safe driver. You shoot him a worried look, but in return he just gives you a cold look and drives faster.

“Eren!” You finally get out. “You’re gonna get us in an accident what the fuck, and stop slaloming between the cars at such a high speed!! Are you trying to die today and bring me with you??”

“Relax y/n. I’d never put you in any danger..” he replies in a cold tone as he puts a hand on your knee while continuing to drive faster and faster. That hand on your knee has your bare pussy clenching and dripping. You remember that idiot took your thong earlier and pray to whoever is listening that you don’t drip all over the seat.

Eren knows exactly what you’re feeling, he’s done this with plenty of girls before. He knows for a fact you’ll drip all over the place, it’s exactly what he wants.

You both suddenly hear police sirens, Eren’s wild ride seems to end here. You’re so relieved, maybe they’ll offer to drive you home since Eren broke so many traffic rules on the highway alone..

He drives off to the side of the road as the police car follows. You feel so relieved and happy when you see the officer get out and come up to Eren’s window.

“Oh Mr.Yeager..how are you doing on this lovely evening?” The officer says, completely dismissing what Eren just did. You wait and see, maybe he is just being nice before the big blow?

“I’m good, we’re both good actually he says and gives a nod to your direction. I’m just driving my friend here to the Taco Bell outside of town, they have the new wild cherry slush and she really wants it.” You want to scream and yell, tell them it’s not true and point out the obvious: he can’t fucking drive safely.. but you just stare at the road ahead of in shock you because you can’t believe how everyone is so up Eren’s ass.

“Alright, just drive safely there Mr.Yeager.” The officer smiles.

Eren hands him an envelope, and the officers face lights up. “Yeah I’ll drive slowly, thank you officer. Have a good evening.”

“You too, say hello to your dad from me!” Is the last thing the officer says as he walks back to his car and soon drives off into the distance. Eren just looks at you with a sadistic look, like he knows he has power over everyone, like he knows you’ve realised that by now.

He essentially drives off the highway, and intentionally picks the worst road to your destination. It’s an old road with lots of bumps and not a car in sight. He drives slow at first but speeds up little by little, every bump causing you to jump in your seat. The bumping turns constant and you start to feel strange sensations from it, you almost let a moan out.

Eren is liking this way too much, the way your beautiful tits jiggle with each bump, the look on your face when the bumping starts to feel a little too good.

You try to keep quiet and pretend you’re not getting more wet as every second passes, pretending you’re not longing for his fingers stretching you out with every bump. You see the Taco Bell logo in the distance. It’s over soon, you push back all the desires and pent up energy. You’d be home soon, you just get that stupid slush with Eren and then this would be over.

The line in the driveway is long. It must be all those new products, this is the only Taco Bell in the area that has gotten them so far. While you wait in line, Eren tells you to unbuckle your seatbelt and sit on his thigh. You’re so tired you just do as you’re told, what else could you even do now?

When you get up to sit on him he glances at your seat, it’s glistening. You really were dripping. He gladly guides your hips back and forth as you’re on his thigh, causing you to moan out. You’re so frustrated, he can feel your pussy clenching on his thigh.

Eren is not nice enough to let you cum yet, not like this. He keeps teasing you on his thighs, with you whimpering and letting out small pleads and begging for him to let you cum. He just keeps toying with you. But when it’s your turn to order, he has you pushing your head out the car window telling you to order two wild cherry slushes and whatever else you want.

“Welcome to Taco Bell what can I get you?”

Just as you’re about to reply, he sticks two fingers in your wet dripping cunt causing you to moan in reply.

“I didn’t quite get that! What would you guys like to order??”

Eren is playing with your clit while stretching your cunt out with his two long and big fingers. You’re clenching on his fingers, with legs shaking. You can barely keep your balance at this point, you feel close to having the same orgasm as you had earlier in the locker. But he stops and lets you order, not because he is nice but this wouldn’t be embarrassing enough.

“T-two wild cherry slushes please.”

“Will that be all then?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“Alright head on over to the next window then!”

Eren hands you his card and tells you to pay and get the slushes, in the same exact position you’re in right now. Your heart drops, surely he couldn’t have planned to make you cum in front of the Taco Bell workers?? You feel his fingers digging deep inside you again as his other fingers work your clit. You just want to sink down on his fingers, they feel so fucking good.

“E-eren” you whimper.

“Focus on the order princess you can cry out for me later.” He says coldly.

And now you’re at the next window, just as you’re about to hand them Eren’s card you have a clitoral orgasm causing you to tremble and almost drop the card. The workers are not blind or stupid they know exactly what he is doing to you, they just roll their eyes and focus on the task. You’re so fucking embarrassed, but as they take time with the order your attention is back fully on Eren.

“I can’t take this- Eren please!” You cry out silently so no one can hear you.

Eren slaps your ass really hard in return. “Focus on the order and stop being a brat or I’ll make this even harder for you.” He shoves a finger in your ass while continuing to dig in your cunt.

You feel so close, you can hear your own cunt and the squelching sounds. What really does it is when he shoves a third finger in, stretching you out so good you nearly lost your mind. When the Taco Bell worker hands you Eren’s card and your order you gush all over Eren. You can’t hold it in.

“Aa-h! T-thank you- aah!” You say pretending nothing is going on even though the worker can clearly hear what Eren is doing. To make it worse he slaps your ass hard one last time before driving off causing you to moan and cuss. “Such a goor girl, handling the order all by yourself.” He smirks. You’re still shaking from the orgasm you just had, brain so empty you barely hear what else he is saying to you. You just want to sit down.

Before you do anything Eren cleans you and the seat up as much as he can, and hands you a slush. The slush was perfect after what just happened, it’s calm cold and relaxing.

You didn’t even notice how late it was, how dark it was outside. Your mother must be so worried.

“I have to call my mom..Eren where did you put my bag??”

“Don’t worry princess I told her you’ll be staying over at my place for the night” he smirks.

“So where’s my phone?? Can I have it??”

“Enjoy your slush y/n, stop stressing about your phone.”

You end up just enjoying the ride, you had a long day and this slush was really good. Nice job Taco Bell you think to yourself as you start to relax and just enjoy the moment.

#eren smut #aot smut #eren x y/n #Eren Yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x reader #💌: answered ask

582 notes · View notes

reidslovely · 9 months

Text

Just a Tap

Synopsis: Before they were Peter and Bashful they were strangers with an annoying (semi-traumatic) meet cute.

Pairing: Frat!Peter x Fem!Reader/OC

CW: None really, car accident? maybe if you can count that. Swearing.

Reblog or comment in place of liking this post, pretty please.

Pulling out of ESU parking structure six was a hell fest. There was a constant flow of traffic that seemingly never let up, and a ton of pedestrians that would either wait for all the cars to pull out before crossing the path, or simply used the heavy traffic flow to their advantage. (Y/N) pushed her head back into her seat frustrated, why was New York traffic such a nightmare. The highway traffic started to let up and she sat straight up breathing a sigh of relief.

“Fucking finally.”

She looked right and then left before letting off her gas, letting her car roll. Out of nowhere a skateboarder rolled in front of her, causing her to barely tap him with her car. But still she felt terrible. She slammed on her breaks, her hands flying up to her mouth. The boy slammed his hands on the hood of her car, throwing his hands up. He was quite obviously laughing at the situation, and did not seem injured at all. Placing her car in park and throwing her flashers on she basically threw herself out of the vehicle, the skateboarder had already started walking away tossing a look over his shoulder. (Y/N), however, was frozen in place.

“I am so sorry, are you okay? Do you need a ride?” She yelled after him, looking over her shoulder to make sure no other cars were leaving behind her.

“I’m good! Just wanted to play it up a little bit.”

He laughs, turning, his skateboard in hand. “We should both watch where we are going next time.” He yelled back smiling. “You’re too pretty to be hitting boys with your car.”

(Y/N) shook her head, swallowing the tears that had built up in her eyes. How could he just be joking about this. Then she saw the shirt: yellow with a red Theta Tau logo on it with ‘ESU est. 1930.’ stitched below it. Frat boys. Suddenly she felt less bad for tapping the bleached blonde with her car.

“But I skate through here the same time everyday, maybe don’t hit me next time okay?”

“How about I make sure I don’t miss next time?” She yells back getting into her car, now annoyed that he found the whole interaction funny when she was trying to be sincere. The blonde smiled in response, she watched him turn and skate away. She checked both ways multiple times and pulled onto the road heading to pick her friend up from work.

Fraternity row was lit up in all different colors, the first football game of the season had just ended and the whole street was celebrating the victory. M.J. wrapped her arm around (Y/N) as they walked down the street.

“Come on you seriously can’t still be hung up on the douchebag that skated out in front of you. He was in the wrong not you, he was jaywalking..jay..skating? Doesn’t matter.” The red head shook her head, her curls shaking. “He’s a dick for that and I’ll tell him if we ever see him. Now please relax and party. Please, it's the first big frat crawl of the semester.”

“Fine..yeah, you’re right.”

“I know I am.” M.J. kissed her friend's head, and started to say something else before being cut off.

“Hey! Watson! Hey!”

M.J. and (Y/N) turned their heads quickly trying to spot the voice that came blaring towards them. A head of blonde hair was in front of them in seconds. A lanky guy stood before them engulfing M.J. in a hug which she gladly returned. “Oh my god. Osborn you scared me, hey this is my roommate and friend (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Harry the guy I was telling you about.”

Harry Osborn was a name you were all too familiar with. M.J. had been in love with him since summer orientation when they met and got stuck in the elevator together. They’d been talking ever since.

“Hey nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah you too.” Harry smiles at her. “Hey, why don’t you guys come into Theta and party?” He offered up, pointing in the direction of the bright yellow door contrasting against the white siding of the huge house.

“Look at that line, no thanks.” (Y/N) laughed.

“No no it’s my frat, well I’m a pledge but I can get y’all in come on.”

(Y/N) stood against the back wall of the party, a black plastic cup in hand as she sipped the vodka sprite mixture out of it. If she could fold in on herself she would, she didn’t even like frat crawls. She only went because M.J. begged her, and she didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to hang out with her. However, M.J. was nowhere in sight. Osborn had stolen her away as soon as they got into the house.

“Well..look who it is.” A voice pooked around the corner at her, she jumped slightly. “Oh come on don’t be bashful. You already hit me with your car.”

It was the blonde guy from yesterday, he leaned against the wall next to her. Smiling at her slightly. “I said I was sorry, you walked out in front of me.”

“I did yeah sorry. But it’s really rude of you.” (Y/N) stomped her foot wanting to crawl in a hole and cry. “I didn’t mean too hi-”

“No not that. I mean not asking for my name..it was the least you could do after all.”

Her brows furrowed, mouth forming a smile ‘o’. Her eyes feel to the ground and she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Peter Parker..and you?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L).”

Peter smiled and slid down the wall sitting on the floor, waiting for her to join him.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N)…again.”

Wrote this very quickly this morning because the lab is empty and have no one coming in until later.

#tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter x reader #frat!peter #andrew garfield #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker #tasm peter imagines

224 notes · View notes

whoistartaglia · 2 years

Text

driving headcanons.

including: kaeya, scaramouche, childe, ayato, and al haitham.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, reckless driving in childe’s part.

notes: inspired by my own bad driving.

kaeya.

kaeya was a good driver. a great one, even. but he was terrible, absolutely terrible, with directions.

he couldn’t make one drive without getting lost or making at least at few wrong turns, even if you were there to help.

you looked up from the map on your phone to the road before you. “kaeya! you were supposed to get off at that exit.”

“really? oh, sorry. i’ll just get off at the next one,” kaeya replied as he got into the wrong lane. you opened your mouth to tell him to merge back, that he was in the wrong lane, and the next exit was coming up—

it was too late. the exit ramp came and went.

“kaeya!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “that was the next exit and you passed it. we have miles until another one!”

“sorry, sorry! i’ll get off at that one, i swear.”

“you said that last time!”

kaeya, thankfully, did get off the interstate at the next exit. except that when he tried to get back on in the opposite direction, he accidently merged onto an adjacent highway. now you were headed east when you really needed to be going south.

before kaeya could issue another applogy, you very quickly cut him off. “don’t. next exit, the very next one, you’re getting off, and i’m driving home.”

you didn’t need to tell him twice.

scaramouche.

scaramouche absolutely did not appreciate your comment asking if he needed extenders to reach the petals.

he was not that short. and there wasn’t anything wrong with using extenders to drive, but scaramouche didn’t appreciate that jab at his height.

“it was just a joke,” you insisted. maybe your words would have had more weight to them if you weren’t laughing as you said them. you tried, and failed, to keep a straight face as you again repeated, “i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.”

“you’re right,“ you said, on the verge of another fit of laughter. “i’m not.”

you were being mean, but scaramouche was mean all the time. it was about time you gave him a deserved taste of his own medicine.

it was when you almost started crying in laughter did scaramouche decide to never drive you anywhere ever again. you wanted to go to somewhere? fine. scaramouche would go with you, but you would be the one driving.

when scaramouche told that to you, he expected you to immediately stop and actually apologize, if only to get him behind the wheel again. but without missing a beat, you only tilted you head, and asked very, very innocently, “is it because you don’t want me to see you drive with petal extenders?”

“why you—“

childe.

this was it. you were going to die. you were going to die, and your boyfriend was going be the one who did it.

“childe! that car’s breaking—“

childe slammed on the breaks just before the hood of his car collided with the one in front of you. it was slowing down to get onto the off ramp and childe—

“you can’t pass him on the shoulder!” you said, even as childe maneuvered the car onto the left shoulder.

“it’s fine! i got this,” childe insisted. you could only watch in horror as he hit the gas petal and very quickly went around the turning car. and then he was back over the speed limit, racing down the interstate, merging in and out of the different lanes.

“childe, please slow down— that is not an exit ramp!”

childe jerked the car back into the right lane. another car, or maybe it was several, honked at him. but you supposed that was at least better than childe accidently getting onto the on ramp… in the wrong direction.

a wail sounded in the distance.

“are those… sirens?” you asked.

childe’s hands tightened on the wheel.

the blaring noise began to grow louder and louder. when you turned, you saw not one but two cop cars behind you. and they were state troopers, not your local police force, either.

you buried your face in your hands. childe was about to get pulled over. again.

ayato.

“you don’t know how to drive?” you asked, surprised.

it wasn’t like you and ayato lived in a big city where you didn’t need a car. you both lived in a small town where driving was the only way to get around.

ayato shrugged. “i never learned.”

“oh.” with some hesitation, you said, “i can… teach you. if you want.”

ayato looked surprised. he went to say something, but you continued before he could. “i’m… not the best driver. but i can still teach you the basics— oh, but you would need a permit first…”

you trailed off and looked up. ayato looked conflicted, and for a second, you wondered if he maybe was afraid of driving. maybe that’s why he didn’t have his license.

“it’s okay if you don’t have to, though,” you said, not wanting to pressure him further. but then a thought occured to you. “wait but… how do you get around then?”

ayato pressed his lips together, and then reluctantly admitted, “i never learned because i never needed to learn. i have a lot of… limo drivers…”

he gave you a sheepish smile, which quickly faltered and faded once he realized you were unamused. very unamused.

ayato gulped. you were going to teach ayato how to drive, whether he liked it, or not.

al haitham.

al haitham followed all the rules of the road, always used his turn signals, never cut other drivers off. the perfect driver really… except for one, admittedly huge, flaw.

al haitham was a little too polite on the road.

“you have time to go,” you said. al haitham was about to make a left turn, but was currently waiting for an oncoming car to pass. which would have been fine, if the car wasn’t more than a quarter mile away.

he had more than enough time to complete the turn.

the oncoming car flashed its high beams, the signal to go. but still, al haitham did not move. the car behind you honked, and you felt like you could die from secondhand embarassment.

“please go,” you almost begged.

“i’ll just wait. it’s fine, really.”

you didn’t argue back, even though you kind of wanted to. you glanced at the side view mirror and saw a line of cars behind yours.

the oncoming car was closer now and—

it passed. you let out a breath, expecting al haitham finally to make the turn but he remained still.

“why—“

“another car’s coming. i can’t go yet.”

it was even further away than the first one.

when the car behind you illegally passed you in the opposite lane, you couldn’t even blame them.

not in the slightest.

1K notes · View notes

simplydannie · 9 days

Note

How did Velvet and Veneers parents die? I remember reading about them getting into a car accident, is that how?

Haii!

Yes, unfortunately Vaugn and Vivian Montegue died in a terrible car crash.

Before the Under Rageous AU, they were on their way to a theme park with the twins and Floyd. They were in a fatal crash in which the twins were the only to survive along with Floyd.

In the Under Rageous AU, it happens more of the same. the under-city does have highways. Unfortunately a reckless Under Rageon was sped along past them, causing them to swerve off the highway. The twins were also in the car, obviously they were the only ones to survive. This is where they go in the custody of their horrible aunt.

#trolls band together #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #veneer #velvet #trolls veneer #velvet and veneer trolls #trolls headcanons #trolls #my asks #answered asks #anon asks #asks #trolls velvet #trolls movie #trolls fandom #dreamworks trolls

24 notes · View notes

thatbadadvice · 2 years

Text

Help! A Grown-Ass Man Didn’t Do A Thing He Wasn’t Obligated To Do

Alison Green, Inc.com, 19 October 2022:

A candidate hasn't attend his job interview, even though we called him to choose an interview time and then sent a confirmation email including time and location. I was wondering if I can send him an email in which I discipline him for not attending, because it cost me time and money for reserving the location, and inform him that he's been blacklisted from our organization.

I’m sorry -- you set up one entire job interview with a man, an incredible favor that speaks to your thoughtfulness, generosity, and good spirit, a thing you did for him out of the sheer goodness of your own heart, out of no interest of your own, entirely altruistically, and this is the thanks you get? The ungrateful boor cannot be allowed to disrespect you and the deep investment you made in him -- my goodness, you sent him a confirmation email for Pete’s sake! There is only one reason for a person not to show up to a job interview, and that reason is because they are a cruel, ungracious churl whose sole delight in this world is making your life more difficult, like you personally and specifically. No one ever gets sick or in a terrible car accident or has to care for a loved one or gets wrapped up in a community emergency requiring them to prioritize literally anything over spending a half-hour telling another stranger about how their greatest weakness is being the world’s biggest perfectionist.

If this lout is not turned into a shell of his former self by the merciless punishment you personally mete out to him in the service of preserving your good name, you run the risk of it getting around the 2728 North Highway 16 Commercial Park that you are some sort of employer looking for employees with whom to engage in a business relationship, to wit: the exchange of labor for compensation. If this great shame is made public, your reputation might never recover.

What did you have in mind? One worries that someone as kind and considerate as you (a confirmation email! one cannot get over it!) might be reticent to deliver the full thrust of discipline required to ensure that this man never forgets the horrible mistake he made the day he didn’t do a thing he wasn’t obligated to do, with someone who has no power over him whatsoever and to whom he owes absolutely nothing. Certainly calling him some mean names in an email is a place to start, but have you considered: also sending some rude texts? He will really rue the day he failed to discover all the wondrous benefits of hitching his economic apple wagon to your shining star! Spend some time brainstorming other options -- a little light flaying might do this guy a world of good.

At the very least, this man needs to be informed in no uncertain terms that you, the people who set up an interview to which he entirely fucking ghosted, are really the ones who didn’t want to work with him, and that actually you don’t even care if he works there or not, he can absolutely sit and spin as far as you are concerned, you hope he falls off the face of the earth, you barely have even given him a second thought, he is entirely meaningless to you and no person in the entire universe could possibly interest you less.

(Any chance this no-show good-for-nothing is an entitled Millennial or lazy Gen-Z-er? The younger generations really have no understanding of workplace norms at all!)

#bad advice #workplace #job interviews #job search #careers #career advice #bad bosses #workplace drama #i wish a mf would #advice

203 notes · View notes

strangerhottotties · 1 year

Note

I just want you to know that the way you write Billy in Grease and Grunge is so hot it fused my brain. Totally support you taking a break! But damn, so excited to read more someday if it works for you. And congratulations on your beautiful wedding.

Grease and Grunge Part 3 - E.M and B.H.

THANK YOU AND MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOU FOR YOUR WONDERFUL WORDS! YOU'VE BEEN SO PATIENT AND SUPPORTIVE THANK YOU! This was originally going to be Eddie, but for you specifically, anon. It's gonna be Billy.

Warnings: ANGST!!! PANIC ATTACKS, DEPICTIONS OF A CAR ACCIDENT, HOMESICKNESS, NIGHTMARES, HURT/COMFORT, CONFUSED READER, HYPERVENTALATION

The first thing you're aware of is the tightness in your chest. It's uncomfortable at first, for a brief moment of confusion. And then like a snake coiling around your heart and lungs, you're acutely aware that you are suffocating.

Your eyes snap open to the unfamiliar sight of a small cabin. Bathed in midnight blue, too dark to see much more than shapes of objects.

This was wrong. This felt so incredibly wrong. The kind of wrong where you feel like you'll hurl. The kind of wrong like that time your dad didn't stop driving as a truck hurdle down the median of the highway through snow. The kind of wrong like that filled you when the man flew from the driver's side window. The kind of wrong like when he got up and sprinted after the vehicle while it rolled. The kind of wrong like the fact that your dad never looked twice and kept driving like he didn't know. Like the fact that you couldn't even hear the terrible crash that was happening just forty feet to your left.

Why did your chest feel so tight? What was that creaky noise? What nightmare was this? You want to wake up.

The casting shadows of wind-blowing branches you were admiring just hours ago flutter across the splintered wood floors. The room is so hot. Why is the room so fucking hot? Your brain calls over the noise in your head. Sweat is streaking across your skin. Your acutely aware of the itching that has spread apart every part of your skin, like sweat had dried on you, but that'd be impossible. You were drenched with sweat.

With shaky legs, you crawl out of bed, desperate to get out of the room that all the air had disappeared from. The creaky noise is hissing out of your mouth you realize as your fingers fumble over the latch on the screen door. Gasping and wheezing to get any oxygen to your brain.

The door rattles beneath trembling fingers. You hiccup around an attempt to sob. The panic doesn't quit when the door opens finally.

Only the air still doesn't fill your lungs when you gasp on the front stoop. You reach for the railing and miss the first time as you stumble forward.

The sound of branches has your head snapping towards the free-standing bathrooms. You can't recall where you are and the unidentifiable figure that is silhouetted by the light behind it could anything. You wheeze harder as you hold the post of a railing.

The call of your name is a question. The figure was a person but the lack of oxygen is getting to you. Your chest burns. "Hey, what's happening? Are you drunk?" The figure calls, striding towards you before breaking into a jog. A man you can't see because the halogen light is shining from behind him.

You need help. Your lungs are screaming at you already. The snake is squeezing your heart as hard as it can and you can feel you heart beating so hard, fighting back in what feels like an impossible battle.

Reaching with one hand you stumble toward him. The man jerks forward fast as you approach, and you recognize him in the low moonlight.

Your ankle doesn't hold up to the clumsy first step of the stairs and you tense as you topple forward into Billy's desperate lunge. "How much did you fucking drink?" He sounds furious and your eyes snap to his, pain in the back of your eyes from straining to look into his. You can't see the blue in this dark. You reach for him, gasping for all the air. Why could he breathe fine? Where was your air.

"I can't..." you wheeze and pat your chest desperately. "Can't..." you attempt, and his eyes sharpen as the word 'breathe' seems to be too difficult.

It's Billy's face twisting into terror that you realize you're not dreaming, and you really couldn't breathe. "You can't breathe?" He demands as his hold tightens, his fingers digging into your back. "What happened? Oh, shit- baby, are you hurt?"

You nod at him and he's dragging you off the porch steps. Dread fills you as the irony isn't lost. His skin is hot and deep beneath your finger tips. His eyes are searching desperately across your skin. "Where?" You wheeze. Billy's grimace is deeply frustrated and horrified. He seemed just as scared and confused as you were. "Where?" You plead with a cracking voice and thumping the side of your fist to his chest.

"Where? Where are we?" You nod desperately and understanding suddenly flashes across his face. "Camp, were at camp. Right outside your cabin. Are the other girls in there?" You nod as he cups his hands around your face, swiping away tears that are beginning to bubble out of your eyes.

"Try your nose. Breathe through your nose." You attempt and are rewarded only with the whistling of blocked sinuses. A broken attempt at a sob has his face crumbling into despair.

The door to the cabin opens. "What's going on?" Nancy demands with a worried tone. You can't see her but Billy snaps to look at her.

"Did you not notice her like this!?'' He exclaims as he adjusts how he's kneeling so that he's right in front of you. You shakily reach for him. "She's fucking freezing!" No, you we're too hot, you want to say.

"I only woke up because I heard your voice!" Nancy immediately rushes forward to kneel on the other side of you. You reach of Billy still, needing him to protect you from whatever was happening.

"Did you guys take anything?"

"We went to bed hours ago!"

Billy levels his gaze with yours. "Did you take anything?" You shake your head at him and he grabs your hand, dragging it to the center of his chest.

You sob again, hating the dizziness in your head. "Okay, okay, baby," he murmurs, "you need to slow down. Just listen, yeah?" When you nod, still gasping for breath. "I know it's scary, feel my heart." Your eyes follow and you feel the pounding muscle bounding beneath his rib cage. "Feel my breath." You try to focus on the big deep breath that fills his chest, it almost feels like a taunt. The way his lungs so easily pull in what you can only taste.

"Give us space," he snaps as Nancy leans closer. She jerks back onto the top step.

He heaves a frustrated sigh and drops his ass into the dirt. There's ease to the way he manhandles you into his lap. He crushes you to his chest and in a funny way your chest feels looser than before, air rushing out of you. That semblance of relief has you digging your fingers into the meat of his shoulders, praying to a higher power that you can breathe again. "Breathe with me," he orders, pressing his wrinkled forehead against your, hard.

You try to match him, only holding your breath before gasping. His hands raise and tunnel into your hair. His blunt nails scrape your scalp lightly, firing off nerve endings. That stutters a breath into a low sob.

It takes several minutes of Billy continuing to hum soft words to you and rumble little praises in your ear. You fold against his chest.

Finally, air burns into your lungs with a full deep breath. Out rolls a sob and Billy is crushing you to him with a sigh of relief. "There it is! Fuck, keep breathing like that," he sighs with relief. You continue to sob into his neck loudly and wetly - taking the air to use greedily. Your nails are digging into his shoulders but his hands don't stop combing through you'd hair.

"Can you tell me what happened, huh, doll?"

You shake you're head back and forth furiously. "Don't know..." you tell him wetly. "Just wo-woke up and couldn't... couldn't breathe."

"Scared the shit out of me," he breathes in your ear. "C'mon, look at me." When you meet his eyes, your breath is hitching for an entirely different reason.

Billy is stunning. You forget this with how big of an asshole he can be. The side of his face is illuminated by the halogen light from the bathroom. His face is etched into a breathless worry, brows puckered as he heaves through parted lips. He's so beautiful it stops the panic for a moment.

The burning in your chest morphs. It duplicates and moves low in your gut. That feeling of safety that happened on Eddie's porch returns with it. The molten hot knowledge that Billy Hargrove was seated below you, cradled by your own thighs caring for you beyond measure was enough to rattle you to your core. You were frightened beyond reason for one fact only now.

Here, with his chest heaving beneath yours and his eyes meeting yours with an open vulnerability he'd never show anyone else, with Nancy seated just feet away, ignoring her. You're realizing something that sends utter panic through you.

You've fallen sickeningly hard and fast for the meanest boy you've ever met.

You don't understand his behavior at all. It's fucking confusing why he decided you of all people was the person he'd chase. The concept makes no sense. But here he's been, rescuing you twice now.

Here, cool demeanor shattered, Billy Hargrove is crumbled beneath you. And God, do you want to make him crumble in an entirely different way. You want to kiss him.

But the burning in your chest reminds you to breathe again and it's too hard to breathe through your nose. Snot and tears are sobering.

You gulp in air wipe at your eyes furiously, sobs slowing into hiccups.

He physically relaxes under you, hands sliding from your hair to take the place of your hands and thumb your tears from your eyes. "How does a walk sound?" He hums. "Probably got some energy to burn?"

You glance to Nancy who's sitting anxiously on the steps, arms tangled around her legs, knees tucked to her chest. She gives you a worried look and you glance back at Billy. "Yeah, okay," you murmur. The suggestion doesn't sound horrible.

Still shaking, you are helped to your feet. You don't miss Billy brushing the dirt off your ass. Nancy stands, and as Billy pulls you into his side, she watches you tetter off. The only communication is your expressions, worried for the other.

Billy's hand pulls your thoughts away as his fingers curl around your back to lead you on. Your socks are ruined as you're guided down a path towards the entrance of camp. It's a slow walk where you tilt into his side, bearing a lot of weight into the sturdiness of him.

Touching him was better than any dream. Becoming aware of the smell of his soap makes you realize that he must have been coming out of the showers when he confronted you.

The ghost of your nightmares are creeping up your throat with the taste of bile. It reminds you to stop peeling the wallpaper.

"Are you not wearing shoes?" Billy's voice startles you.

"No?" You reply and he frowns at you before sighing and looking around. "Let's go sit. I need a cigarette." He motions with a tilt of his head towards a rickety set of picnic tables by the front lobby. Your hiccups continue as he leads you on.

He offers you a hand to climb up onto the bench. Hesitation fills you for a moment but you listen, shakily crawling to sit. Billy remains standing for a moment before he withdraws his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and you watch as he lights up. You press your hands into your lap, tucking them anxiously between your thighs.

When you sniff, glancing away from his intense glance, his lighter clicks shut. A finger lifts your chin and your forced to look into his narrowed eyes. It threatens to steal your very breath. And then his thumb is swiping a stray tear away as he drags on his cigarette. "Do you have a nightmare?"

You can't bare to look at him again. It makes you feel like a child, especially with how delicate he touches you.

"Figured," he grunts, "you're mad at me, again." Your eyes snap to him as he drops his hand and steps back.

"What?" Your voice breaks weakly. You clear your throat before trying again. "No, it's just... embarrassing." When he glances back at you, you cast your eyes down into your lap. "Having nightmares at this age."

"They happen to everyone," he replies quietly. "What was it about?"

You shrug and scratch at your wrist, fidgeting. Billy sighs, blowing smoke into the night air. You wish there was a light out here, so you could sneak looks at him. He moves, climbing up to sit beside you on the table.

"I get this reoccurring nightmare of drowning." Those words capture your attention. "Almost did when I was a kid. My mom used to take me surfing and I got pulled under. Passed out, I woke up on the beach with two cracked ribs and vomiting water. It's been a decade, still get them all the time and I wake up feeling everything all over again."

He continues puffing on his cigarette like he'd told you what the weather was supposed to be tomorrow.

You are quiet for a moment with him, listening to the crickets chirping. You shift on the bench, scooting so your knees are touching.

"It was my mom," you murmur to your lap. "She was trying to marry me off to Jason."

"Carver?" He snorts. You sniff, whiping at your face with the heel of you hand, wishing you had a tissue.

"Yeah, she's got my whole life mapped out for me... any little... misdirection I have..."

"Let me guess, she rips you a new one?" You nod solemnly. It's silent and then Billy chuckles to himself. "Guess I'd have a panic attack if I had a dream I had to marry Carver, too." He follows it up with another deep drag.

"I get nightmares a lot," you hum. "Some of them get pretty fucked up." Billy clocks his eye brow at you.

"Did you just say 'fuck'?" You crack a small smile at him.

"I'm not perfect, you know." Billy leans back on one of his hands, rib cage brushing your arm as he presses closer.

"You really are, you know." He says it so casually, but it rips the breath right out of you.

"Do you have a filter at all?" You groan and he smiles at you lazily.

"I mean it."

"You don't know me, Billy." He scoffs at you and drags again. He let's the smoke roll on his tongue before he puffs it put in the opposite direction of you.

"Here Comes The Sun is your favorite Beatles song," he spouts and you freeze. "You skip to it every chance you get but you prefer 70's music. You eat your food one thing at a time and don't like any touching on your plate. When you get nervous you pick at your nails. When you're reading, you scratch at your scalp like this." He lifts his hand and tunnels his fingers into your hair to mimic how you do it, slow little circles. You try to still your beating heart.

When he untangles his fingers from your hair, he lowers his hand to instead, rest on your knee. "I... I really like you," he admits, glancing ahead instead of at you. "You're a good girl," he hums, "I liked to tease you at first, yeah. It was cute watching you get all flustered but one day it just hit me, you know. You're too good for me." Silence falls again as he glances down at his hand on your knee.

"I thought to myself," his eyes meet yours in the dimly lit night, "That's the kind of girl you marry. And that night I drove you home..." your breath hitches at the mention of it. The first acknowledgment of the ordeal. "I got a taste," his breath is ghosting your neck when you twist away from his steely gaze, "fuck, I've never wanted anyone more in my life. You made me so fucking crazy, I promise you that. If all you want from me is a fuck, I'm here. If you need something more, I've got that, too." You gulp softly.

"Billy," you start, unsure of what to say, "I'm not going to choose between either of you," you sigh. "It would kill me to hurt either just because I can't control myself." He smiles at that, despite your words.

"Munson and I hashed it out tonight," he grunts.

"What?"

"A gentleman's competition."

You roll your eyes and groan. "For God's sake, Billy! I don't want fighting." He tucks the hair behind your ear, and it shouldn't have the calming effect that it does.

"Go on a date with me Friday."

"I came to camp to hang out with my friends-"

"And to get laid, Steve says."

"I'm gonna fucking kill him. Billy, please, please listen to me. I just want a fun summer, not more stress. Please don't fight over me." Billy is still undeterred by your rejection, leaning in close to your face.

"Can I have a pair of your panties too?" Your cheeks flame when he demands that and your jaw falls open.

"You're unbelievable," you whine. "Billy, I am forbidding it!"

"Do I at least get a kiss for rescuing you? Cause I can't imagine not being able to kiss you again." He teases, it steals you're breath. You blink a couple times up at him as he leans into your space.

"You're not gonna be mad if I'm talking to Eddie again then?"

"No," he promises. You narrow your eyes at him.

"Even if I kiss him, too?" He sucks a breath through his teeth, rolling his tongue across them before smiling bitterly at you.

"Just... not in front of me, please."

That's what does it. It bottoms your stomach out and your launching forward to seal your mouth on his. The taste of his cigarette still in his mouth and he doesn't hesitate to cradle your head to his.

His tongue delves past your lips the first moment he can and you moan. It's not rushed, despite how it starts. It's just as deep as it's ever been, because if his words are true, than like you - he can't get enough.

God, why does he have to be so good with his tongue? You wonder.

His fingers tunnel in your hair. He breathes deeply through his nose when he does, sighing into your mouth and the two of you stay like that for a little while. It almost feels like slow dancing, the creamy intimacy has you utterly melting against him.

There's no desperate edge.

Eventually, both of his hands are in your hair. "C'mere," he grunts at one point. He grasps your hand and drags you around him until your forced to crawl into his lap.

"Billy..." your warning is greeted by his amused smile. Your lower body has to be stopped when it cries for you to rock yourself down into his lap.

"Shut up and let me kiss you, doll." Your cheeks burn but you don't fight him as he drags you back down to his mouth. He quickly changes course though, mouth his way over your jaw and down your neck.

Time teeters back down to a crawl. You soak in the light drag of his teeth and the swipes of his tongue beneath his lips. A pinch makes you jump.

"Ow!" You whine as he chuckles against your neck. "Don't be mean," you scold him.

"Mhmm." He pats your lap and leans back to look at your neck. "Let me get you back to your cabin, yeah, Princess?"

"That's... a good idea," you reply, climbing out of his lap, acutely aware of how chilly your wet socks are.

"Wait," he tells you when you try to hop down, "your not walking without your shoes. Hop on," he insists and presses forward to offer you his back. You blink a couple times

"You don't have to-"

"Shut up and hop on, babe," you sigh and lean over his shoulder, twisting your arms around his neck. It's effortless for him to hitch you up his back and start the trek back.

"Billy?"

"Yeah?"

G+G Taglist: @music-is-all-i-need @devilcherryhot @hauntingtherosebush @simp4mullets @theelephantroom4 @dumbmarvelchick @your-local-rockstar-simp @holyfanficbooksgeek @shittypunkbarbeque @psychoticbirb @im-bout-to-pass-otut @sameyessblue @boopmedaddy @animeboystuff @santaatemypuppy @bdudette , @slutforbillyy

"Thank you..." the trek back is light. Billy let's you slide down on the front steps of the counter. He leaves you with a tender kiss on your head and shuffles off into the night as you shuffle back into the room. Nancy is waiting inside, seated on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, Nance. Did you wait up for me?" you whisper.

"Yeah, will you sleep with me? I want to know if you wake up like that again, okay?" She opens her arms and waves to you to come closer. It's welcomed and not confusing like it is with Billy. You crumble into her arms and the two of you fall asleep with the promise of talking in the morning. For now, you simply find comfort in the scent of her shampoo.

@blahblahblaj, @sunandmoonchild158, @lovinthesiz3 , @poisondragon , @blueberry-birdie , @xchichikunx, @briistrash , @imabadarsebardrd, @j1nxwastaken , @shinypeachkitten , @scoobydoopoo , @joyfulfxckery , @novativee , @be-gentle-with-my-potatos , @cythianokamaria, @imagininghim

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #billy hargove smut #billy hargove x reader #asks #billy hargove imagine #grease and grunge #unedited

89 notes · View notes

coldresolve · 1 year

Text

The Dash Dilemma, pt.i // The Accident

AO3 / Masterlist / Next (coming soon)

Patrons of the small town bar are huddled among trash cans, hedges, and benches. Their good-natured jeers and laughter echo far down into the dark parking lot, rolling off the still cars before the sound is flung back to them.

Dash stands on the curb, shoulders hunched against the surprisingly chill April air, swaying a little as he fumbles with a set of keys. Pressing the remote unlock button, his flickering eyes scan the lot until he sees the yellow blinking lights of his black Chevy Corsica and heads in that direction, careful not to let his dizziness show in how he walks.

In all honesty, he hadn’t intended to get drunk tonight, but the bar had been so alive, the company, the music, even the odd dancers clearing out a small floor among the tables to let themselves be strung along. Dash’s lips still tingle with the kiss he stole from another patron, a woman he spent forty odd minutes blatantly flirting with before she so much as let him touch her.

His head is still buzzing with the chase as he gets into his car, a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and shifts into gear. He immediately turns on the radio, humming along to the tune of the same shitty pop country song they’ve played for months now. Tonight, the repetition doesn’t bother him. He’s in a giddy mood, self-satisfied and terribly, terribly complacent.

He should’ve called a cab.

Dash drives down the town’s main road, streetlights illuminating the long-since sleeping town in a faintly yellow glow. He drives past the sleeping suburbs, past the large aluminum factory that keeps the town afloat; past the small stadium, which really isn’t more than a relatively unkept football field and some sparse, decrepit stands; past the trailer park and the airstrip. A sad song comes on the radio, and he huffs, shutting it off. He’s pretty sure he isn’t swerving too badly, but still, just to be on the safe side, he decides to alter his route home to avoid having to drive on the highway.

So his trip takes him along small country roads devoid of other drivers, past brown fields and forests that have yet to truly start budding light green. The steady hum of the engine would’ve lulled Dash into sleepiness, if he hadn’t been there already, in his drunken state. As it is, he’s already intermittently yawning, thoughts circling the warm bed at his destination, just waiting for him to sink in.

He pulls up to the side of the road to piss at one point, wholly allowing himself to be swallowed up by the sheer silence of the countryside. Miles away, a flock of deer moan, or the howl of a fox pierces the night, or grasshoppers and other critters sing and click away; but apart from the wind, these are the only ambient sounds. No cars, no honking, no bustling of traffic, no chaotic murmur of a crowd, no sirens in the distance. Shaking off the last few drops, Dash zips his pants back up with a satisfied sigh and heads back to his car to resume his venture. His movements are a little bit sluggish, and his gaze tends to drift, but other than that, he feels relatively sober.

Back on the road, Dash carefully maneuvers his way past potholes and sharp turns in the hilly terrain. Insects illuminated by the headlights fly by the windshield like large specks of dust floating in the air. The tall grass on the side of the road swaying in the wind elicit the thought of waves cascading on the surface of the ocean.

The funny thing about it is that Dash actually very clearly sees the man walking on the side of the road. He sees the brown leather jacket and the blue jeans, he sees the reflective patches on the back of the man’s running shoes. He sees the brown hair.

He just doesn’t react. As if the signal from sight to action takes a little too long to register.

And so the man is swept off his feet by the Chevy’s front bumper, and his upper body slams into the hood, head cracking the windshield before he tumbles over the roof.

It’s only then that Dash slams the brakes as hard as he possibly can, tires screeching as rubber is wound down on the asphalt. The car finally comes to a grinding halt that nearly sends Dash’s head smashing into the steering wheel, and he sits there, panting for breath, staring out his cracked windshield. His heart is galloping away in his chest, blood roaring in his ears from the sudden flood of adrenaline through his system. Somewhere in his motor, metal clicks as it rapidly cools down.

Swallowing down nausea, Dash looks in the rear view mirror, and sees the unmistakable form of the man lying crumpled in the middle of the road. The heap of a person doesn’t disappear no matter how many times Dash blinks. He shudders, biting off a curse and turning around fully in his seat to look out the rear windshield for himself. This isn’t happening. But the body is still there. It’s form is outlined by the cool moonlight, casting a pitch black shadow on the asphalt. It’s still there, and it isn’t moving.

“God no,” Dash mutters, clicking off his seatbelt with one hand as he shifts the car into park with the other. He exits the car quickly, but comes to a halt just outside, clutching the driver’s side door hard with both hands as he looks at the crumpled stranger.

Debris litters the street, shards of glass which crack under Dash’s shoes. Not far from the body, he sees the shattered remnants of a phone, and then a shoe that must’ve fallen off in the crash. He approaches the stranger slowly, with careful footsteps. There’s a twinge of a metallic smell in the air, and Dash is pretty sure it’s the smell of blood.

“Hello?” he tries.

No response.

The body is facing away from him, one arm sprawled out behind the back, hand lax. Brown hair is stained with red, glistening slightly in the moonlight. The leather jacket shows signs of tearing in places, it’s skin scratched up by stones in the road. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but he’s pretty damn sure the stranger isn’t breathing.

Dash gently pushes at his back with the tip of his shoe.

No reaction.

He bites back a scream, walking away from the body, grasping both hands in his hair, gritting his teeth against the sob that threatens to tear through his chest. “This can’t be happening,” he hisses out loud, tears springing in his eyes, “I did not just kill somebody. Fucking God…”

Desperately trying to get his roaring emotions back under control, Dash crouches down in the middle of the road, breathing ragged, whining intermittently as another wave of horror tears through him.

There’s a low moan. Barely audible.

Dash freezes, a new wave of ice running down his back. He stares at the body with wide eyes, barely breathing, waiting for the sound to reappear.

And then, after a while, there it is again. A breath that hitches in a dry throat, followed by a pained sort of sound, low in the chest.

Dash stares at the moonlit silhouette for a long time, until he carefully makes his way over to it. Steeling himself for what he might be about to see, he takes a deep breath, gritting his teeth, and turns the stranger over onto his back.

The guy isn’t dead, but he looks well on his way there. His face is relatively intact, although there’s clear road rash on the side of his jaw and along one cheekbone. Trailing from his temple and down behind one ear, there is a large gash deep enough to expose the man’s skull in places. Where tears in the man’s clothing have revealed bare skin, Dash can see more road rash as well as intermittent, deep gashes in the flesh were larger bits of gravel have cut through. The man’s right arm bends strangely, Dash notices with a squeamish lurch of his stomach, and likewise, one foot faces the wrong way.

Dash looks away, swallowing down the urge to vomit.

What’s he supposed to do?

Is he supposed to take the stranger to the hospital? He’s dying, isn’t he? The speed with which Dash hit him is sure to have caused internal bleeding, brain swelling, all sorts of fatal injuries beyond the scope of what Dash can see. He would be charged with manslaughter and they’d call up witnesses from the bar and prove he drove under the influence. Isn’t that a life sentence?

And he can’t just flee the scene. Once they found the body, investigators would find Dash by the damage to his car. That’s still a life sentence.

Eyes wild, Dash looks at the stranger for a long, long time.

The decision doesn’t come to him quickly, but once the idea has found purchase in his mind, it settles, like a heavy stone in his gut. It comes reluctantly, like a dog fighting the leash, and it does not fill him with pride.

He has to steel himself for the unpleasant task. Jaw set, he takes a deep breath and walks back towards his car. Settling in the driver’s seat and throwing the gear into reverse, he drives back until the trunk is no more than a few feet away from the body. He gets out, takes a deep breath, opens the trunk. Spies down either side of the country road, but as long as he can see, he’s alone for miles.

Dash walks up to the guy, then hesitates.

“You’ll come with me,” he mutters solemnly. He’s not sure why, it’s not like the guy is conscious to hear him. It just feels right. “I’ll, ah, I’ll set you up nice and cozy in my garage, so you don’t have to die on the road. And then, when you’re dead, I’ll bury you somewhere nice.” It sounds so, so wrong. “I’m really sorry about all this,” he adds, wincing at himself.

With nothing further to say, Dash gets to work hauling the body up, hooking his arms under the arms of the stranger. Dead weight is heavy, and the stench of blood is nearly enough to make Dash gag, but he manages to maneuver the broken man into the trunk of his car torso first, pulling up the legs afterwards.

He gathers up the most incriminating pieces of debris – the shattered phone and the shoe – and throws them into the trunk, too, before he shuts it. He can’t help but feel relieved that that part of the ordeal is over, and that the stranger’s broken body is out of sight.

At least for now.

Masterlist / Next (coming soon)

#writing #the dash dilemma #dash #carter

36 notes · View notes