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somnambulic-thing · 3 months

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Long Way Home

Eddie x afab!reader || E, 2k ish

||established relationship, fluff, domestic, smut, intimacy, references to Pet Sematary by Stephen King (talk of burying/resurrecting a body), talk of crawling into somebody/nothing graphic, just nerds in love you know the flavor||

A/N: thank you @bettyfrommars and @allthingsjoeq for keeping me sane(ish) while I overthink shit for way too long. <3

The road ahead seems endless, winding on and on like a river of tar whose rigid monotony makes it feel like you’re hardly moving at all.

Your forehead rests against the cool window while your gaze rests on the Milky Way that peppers the clear night sky with its cool ethereal shine. From the speakers, a calm deep voice tells a story about a zombi cat and other atrocities, giving Eddie’s tired mind something thrilling to focus on while he steers the car through the wee hours of a Monday that will very likely be just as dragging as the long way home from the concert that lies behind you. Behind your eyes, moments of the night keep repeating, filling your chest with that special tingling that’s the euphoria of freshly made memories one never wants to forget. Next to you, something cracks, ripping you out of your thoughts, making you flinch before you turn.

“Fuck, Munson,” you groan. “Was that your neck?”

“Aye,” Eddie chuckles and rubs a knuckle over the bag under his eye while keeping both firmly on the road. You know there are copious amounts of willpower and maybe a little magic at work for him not to slam his foot to the gas to cut the last forty minutes down as much as physics and the engine allow. “M’ afraid I’m slowly decaying here.”

The back of your fingers trace over his cheekbone, his profile a sight to behold even in the dark, even with the night chipping away at him.

“I know a good place to bury you,” you say and his lips twitch as he swiftly glances at you.

“You maybe want to give that a second thought, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” you flick your hand dismissively. “You’ll be as good as new. A little stinky, maybe.”

“Aaaand plenty homicidal,” he laughs and combes a hand through his hair, leaving his bangs a little messy. “You’d do that for me?”

“F’course.”

You twist in your seat and reach into the back, fumbling around in the mess of clothes and snacks until your fingers graze the hard, smooth surface of what you’re looking for while Eddie rewinds the tape.

There’s a hiss as the rim of the bottle cap first bends and then gives way with a pop that synchronizes perfectly with the sharp click the play button makes under his fingertip. You pluck a straw out of an empty Coke bottle and transfer it into the full one and Eddie’s lips are already parted and waiting when you bend over in this well-practiced ritual. Not long and half the liquid is gone. Eddie releases the straw with an ahhh and you nearly choke on a laugh and a sip of your own when a happily belched thanks resounds inside the confined space of the car.

“Shit, keep missing that part,” he huffs and you rewind the tape before he can reach out to do so. “Love you,” he says with a tired smile in his voice and you press play again.

—

The trailer park is quiet. So quiet that the silence feels heavy - almost like a scolding - after Eddie finally turns off the engine; or maybe it’s just the exhaustion pulling on your bones, it’s hard to tell.

Eddie slumps his head against the backrest and groans. A pale sliver of light illuminates the outline of his throat, stretched long and exposed, Adam’s apple moving languidly as he takes a deep deep breath and swallows a yawn.

You decide he deserves a treat, are fairly sure he needs one and so you lean in and trace the tip of your nose to the soft spot below his ear where you place a kiss that makes him shiver and tilt his head to the side; an invitation that never fails to rush your blood up to your cheeks and spread this warmth that he likes to kiss so much.

“More,” he hums, hand patting the air between you in search of your thigh. You lace your fingers together and smile into his skin, taking your time to breathe him in, to fill your head with that rush that is his scent. It’s been a long day and the proof lingers in his hairline, more earthy, laced with smoke and sweat; it’s the smell of adventure and time well spent.

A kiss won’t do. You have to taste him.

Baring teeth, you run the edge along salty skin before you sink them in, stirring a raspy groan that vibrates through his throat. A hand cups the back of your head, fingers twitching when you release him from your jaws, tugging with a sluggish impatience as you lick and kiss the bite to soothe. You comply, follow the quiet plea of heavy arms enveloping you to pull you in close. Knees bump as two rigid, tired bodies twist and shuffle to slot together as much as the interior of the car allows. He buries his face in your shoulder, lets himself sink against you and sighs; a heavy, muffled sound that speaks of the relief of being home.

Now you just have to get inside.

“Now for it! Now for the last gasp!” you quote his favorite Hobbit and wind your fingers into the hair on the back of his neck, your nails raking over his scalp in gentle encouragement.

The warmth of a pressed-out breath seeps through your jumper and travels down your spine. Eddie’s hands follow its trail, fingers flexing on your back to grab two fists full of fabric to hold on to. He turns his head enough to free his mouth from your shoulder.

“If you’re not going to carry me, dear Sam, I’ll need a minute,” he says and presses a kiss to your neck before he hides his face again.

Six hours until both of you have to get up and ready for work but you would give him one full hour if he asked for it.

The exhaustion weighing him down goes deeper than mere tiredness and stiffness of joints, is of that kind that comes after catharsis: two hours of violent drums, screaming guitars and eye-watering bass, of shouting ones heart out in an angry choir of strangers that had been kin for one night, a raging rampart between you and the world, a safe place to come out of hiding and get lost between hot, sweating bodies, to bruise and to be bruised in a collective exorcism that leaves mind and soul raw and sore but oh so light and clear.

It had hit him hard this time.

Your hands wander; fingertips rubbing circles into tense, aching muscles right at the back of his skull where you know a night like hits him hardest. Eddie huffs and sighs as you work your way down his neck until a long deep moan is your sign to pay that spot a little extra attention. It’s nothing short of intoxicating, the way he melts into you, his voice so close to your ear—

…oh fuuuck, right there…

— his hands on a quest of their own, gathering up the fabric on your back until the cool night air amplifies the heat of his palms on your skin. You trace your nose along the side of his face, straining your neck doing so; but not for long. Eddie lifts his head at last, brings your foreheads together, firmly, urgently, and a little groan sneaks in between the puffs of air that tickle on your lower lip; it’s almost a frustrated sound, as if he’s striving to overcome the layers of skin and skull separating him from you. His nails dig in below your shoulder blades, the sting sweet and the scratch even more so when he drags them down the length of your back like he’s using his last strength to claw his way into you.

You tilt your head and kiss him. Slow slow oh so slow is the slide of lips and hands, the teasing of teeth and tongues and soon there is more salt to lap from his hot throat and the hard line of his cock straining inside his pants.

“So,” he breaths heavily into your open mouth, “we gonna rock paper scissors out who’s gonna do the fucking or what?”

It’s more a snort than a laugh that leaves you and then the car is filled with giggles and the rustle of fabric as you peel yourself out of his arms. “Why waste time with three rounds of rock,” you say impatiently wiggling out of your long-car-ride-sweatpants and soaked car-make-out panties, “when we both know you’ll lose with paper anyway.”

“Lies,” he rasps and leans back in his seat. “Slander.”

A soft patch of light reveals hooded black eyes over a waning crescent smile and he palms himself while he watches you undress, hissing at the touch before he hooks his thumbs into both waistbands and shoves with everything he has.

Eddie is still shuffling in his seat when you wrap your hand around him; hot and hard and smooth. He yelps then groans and bites the back of his hand while you slowly slide his foreskin back and your thumb over the tip to spread the wetness waiting for you. “M’ not going to last ten seconds if you p-play with me like that, shiiit,” he grits out between his teeth as his hand wraps around your wrist like a plea for mercy. “Just fuck me, please? Just fuck me.”

His hold on you is desperate; impatient hands pawing and pulling as you climb him with such haste you bump your knee on the door and the steering wheel into your back. Impatient hands turn slow and soft as they move to soothe what's bound to bruise.

“You ok, little monster?”

“Perfect, doc.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, feel it twitch and curl and then part for a sharp breath as you reach down to guide him inside you.

Somewhere in his chest, pleasure and fatigue collide and vacate his lungs as a breathy “F-fuuuck,” that’s the sound of a man saved from certain death. You match it with a moan as you sink further down on him and shudder as he fills this aching, hollow place inside you while his nails leave little crescents on your skin.

“Slow slow slow slow slow…” he chants and drops his head to your shoulder. Softly huffed moans tickle your neck as you take him oh so slowly, pull his hair oh so slightly to make him kiss you oh so messily. He’s pliable, molds himself around your form and clings to you like a thin shirt in a downpour. A familiar heat spreads through your loins and up your belly while the glacial pace starts to burn in your thighs and makes them tremble.

“You close?” he pants, voice strained around the edges.

“Not yet… are you?— aaah—“ impatient hands grab your ass and push you down before he wraps his arms around you to keep you that way - full, oh so full of him it makes you gasp and squirm —

“Yeah,” he says, wet, hot mouth smushed into your cheek. “Need you to come first,” he slides a greedy hand in the tight space between you, “s’ my favorite thing, those little earthquakes inside of you—“

“Oh s-shit—“ you jolt, nerves set ablaze by words and fingers alike.

“Fuckfuckfuck feels like m’ halfway to your soul, just… just fucking grind on me, sweetheart— Christ, yes…”

And so you grind grind grind, keeping him buried oh. so. deep. and with a slight tilt of your hips and Eddie’s thumb on your clit your legs are trembling again.

It’s a desperate tangle of limbs, digging of teeth and nails, his hair in your mouth and your name in his over and over and the soft squeek squeek squeek of the seat that’s sticky against your chins and knees.

It’s not an eruption, when the heat has nowhere to go anymore, but a low, heavy rumble and as soon as the first wave rolls over you, Eddie lets go so you can go under together.

You still tense around his twitching cock when your bodies have ceased the writhing and twitching; the air is filled with dissonant panting and the heavy silence of a night that’s much closer to dawn than to dusk.

Eddie’s lips rest on your pulse, nose smushed against your jaw. No teeth; even the last bite has left him now. His head dips in that tell-tale way and he makes a long, low sound that turns into a yawn.

“Dn’t wanna m’ve…” he mumbles.

“M’neither.”

So you don’t.

Not until his cock is soft and slowly slipping out of you and you’re fuzzy with the promise of deep blue slumber. When your state of undress has been reversed, the mess on the seat smudged somewhere on the back of Eddie’s pants, he leans in for one more kiss.

“Guess y’ can carry me in now.”

general taglist: @bettyfrommars @dr-aculaaa @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @potthealien2423 @raccoonboywrites @eveybitch @jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlanka @moonbeamsandmayhem @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie @chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #my fic

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lethalchiralium · 5 months

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Diamondback | [2]

i may have dropped off the face of the earth for this one but only because i had no direction after the first chapter but i FOUND IT. seven months later LMAO

warnings: stalking, harassment

summary: Pine, Arizona. Your ride home with Captain Riley is… interesting to say the least. Your second day back as a Hotshot proves to be difficult, and a grocery run proves itself to be unique as well.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

At this time of year, you were meant to be posted up in a nice lookout tower, watching a season of an old medical drama series on the box TV you had to smack to turn on. Feet laid up on top of the desk, waiting for your fancy one dollar ramen to cool as you read through a new book. Your shoes were meant to be muddy, your arms aching from having to move furniture around to how you liked it - not hitching a ride home from your Hotshot Captain Simon Riley at two thirty in the morning after his bartending shift. You imagined Simon to own a bike, he seemed the type to have a nice bike. What you did not expect was a nice black luxury car - well kept interior, you felt bad setting your dusty shoes on the floorboard.

He didn’t talk much on the ride home, it didn’t matter to you as you were half asleep in the passenger seat of his nice Mercedes. The warm lights passed by, the sky seemed so much brighter for being around 3am - it was because of all the light pollution, you were used to seeing the Milky Way almost every night.

“You don’t seem like that big of a drinker.” Simon commented, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

You opened one eye, seeing the main road’s neon lights as they waved by. Your head lolled to the left, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

He chuckled a little, you could clearly see one of his white canines as he spoke again, “You’re not a drinker.”

“How so?”

“Don’t seem the type, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, closing them again before rolling your head back to the right. “You have no idea what type I am, Riley.”

“You’re the type to not fight your problems, you comin’ into a bar like mine means you rolled over and showed your belly like a dog.”

If you had any more energy to argue, you would’ve. Where does he get off on assuming shit that isn’t true? You sat in silence, eyes opening again to watch the lights on the main road fly past.

He chuckled once. “No smart quip?”

I am done with this prick. Your head swung to the left, a frustrated huff left your nose before you began, “You don’t know shit about me. If it bothers you so much, I won’t go to your stupid fucking bar again.” You snapped your head back to the right.

“Now, I didn’t say that…” Another laugh left his lips. “You sure have a lot of fire under that facade.”

“What?”

“The ‘I’ve never been hurt before in my life’ look. You fight just like a wildfire, you won’t bend to another man’s thumb.” The turn signal began to click and Simon smirked. “I thought you would have been a dud, one of those lazy fire watchers with nothin’ better to do.” You opened your mouth to retaliate but he continued. “Turns out I was wrong, John was right.” The car came to a stop, he pushed the gear shift to park before he looked at you. “You’re a spitfire.”

You stared at him for just a moment before you opened your door, climbing out into the stuffy night air. You turned around and looked into his fancy car, eyes narrowing. “Have a good night, Captain Riley.” You closed the door to his nice car and made your way to Alex’s nice apartment complex, poking the pin pad with the code he had given you the day before. The door unlocked and you entered, hearing Simon’s car pull out of the lot - you didn’t look back.

The climb up two flights of stairs really made you feel the burn from yesterday, it made you regret staying out late since you had to wake up in three hours for another shift at the 141. You dug the silver key out of your pocket as you approached the apartment, unlocking it and pushing it open as quietly as humanly possible. You toed off your shoes, your hand gently pushed shut the door while the other was pressed against the wall to keep you steady.

“Y/N!”

You jumped out of your skin, almost losing balance as you whipped around to see him, hair tousled and in his signature ratty t-shirt and gym shorts. “Christ, Alex! A warning would be nice-”

“It’s almost three, you imbecile! We have work in three hours!”

You shrugged, scratching your jaw for just a second before you answered, “I was having a drink at that bar you told me to go to.”

“Who drove you home?”

“The Captain.”

“Riley drove you home?” Alex’s jaw almost hit the floor, your eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, he’s in love with you.” He joked, you gave him a confused glare.

You let out a loud laugh of disbelief after just a moment. “All because he drove me home?”

He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. “Never in my many years of existence has Simon Riley dropped off a coworker. Ever.” He stared you down. “Did you suck him off or something-“

“Alex!”

“I’m just asking-!”

You instantly moved past him, anger bubbling under your skin. “I didn’t do anything but get a ride home, so I’m gonna shower and hopefully not slip and crack my skull from exhaustion.”

Alex chuckled, watching you as you disappeared down the hallway. “I’m just kidding!”

You flipped him off before you slammed the door to the bathroom. “Go to bed!”

•••

“Deploy!”

“30 seconds!”

Ripping open a survival shelter after years of not having a need to even have one in the tower was riveting. You were like a kid on Christmas, just without the boastful excitement and energy for wrapped presents, as every drop of your existence in Arizona was used to retrain for what normal people would essentially call Hell on Earth.

“Move, Soap!”

“Rookies on the inside, feet to the flames!”

“Twenty bucks ah beat ye, Gaz!”

“Bottles and radios in your shelter!”

The green training emergency survival shelter crackled as you whipped it in the air, allowing it to inflate to the size it needed to be to cover your body. Your hands held the top as you put your head in, kneeled, then put your feet through as well before completely pressing the edge of the shelter to the concrete floor of the firehouse. Your body was cocooned by the flimsy green plastic, you pressed your cheek to the ground as you heard Simon’s loud countdown to zero.

“Feet to the flames!”

You had only been with the 141 for about 48 hours and you were already exhausted, right down to the bone. With a long run, weight training for hours on end, then going on an even longer run, packed to the brim with gear. You didn’t have time to reminisce on how a Pulaski axe felt strapped to your fifty pound rucksack, you only had the strength to make sure you didn’t pass out on a lonely trail in the middle of the desert. You definitely hated being thrown into carrying a rucksack, but such is life - throwing fifty pound rucksacks at your face until you move states and completely destroy your very stable life. Ah, cheating dirtbags. Remind me to never go for a J named piece of shit ever again.

“If we have to deploy,” The bottom of your green cocoon rumbled as a hand shook it, the now familiar voice of Price boomed throughout the exercise room. “The fire’s gonna sound like a hundred freight trains goin’ right over you.” The shake of your small tent was only a couple of seconds before you could hear someone else’s being rustled as well. “Proper deployment of your survival tent will save your life.”

“It’s gonna get hot, this will be the only oxygen you have. Keep that seal as flat as you can to the ground, or else the fire will suck out your only breathable air.” Simon’s voice was farther now, you could tell both of them were shaking the tents to simulate the sound of the flames. Your hands moved to the edge of the plastic next to your elbows, you grabbed it and pressed it flat against the concrete - you kept your breathing steady. “People have died from incorrectly deploying these tools. Keep your feet in, keep the seals flat, and you will ensure your survival.”

The sound of boots against concrete was deafening between you and your fellow Hotshots, no room for disobedience or miscalculation. Every movement you would make when you’re fighting a wildfire needed to be calculated and structured, that’s why Hotshots stayed in a line - everyone needed to stay together to ensure everyone stayed alive.

“You will only open your survival tent when you are given instruction to do so by both Captain Riley and I.” A pause. “We will be calling over the radios to identify everyone, going by last name. If you do not hear from either of us, wait five minutes. The worst of it will be over, waiting that five minutes ensures you won’t be injured when you leave the safety of your tent.”

You had only experience with one wildfire before, the Juniper Wildfire. Scraping a boundary in the dirt, digging it out to create a line between the enemy and the cities that were in line to be the fire’s next source of fuel. Destroying low lying brush and vegetation, tossing it far away from the line - you remembered how intense the heat was getting as the Juniper fire approached your team’s position, the way your old Supe called out for everyone to back away and get back to safety with a gruff and resounding yell. We can always replace equipment, but we can never replace you. That was drilled into your head at every turn.

The footsteps stopped. “Alright, come on out.”

Sweat beaded at your hairline, you whipped the green practice tent over your head as you swiveled yourself to sit straight up. You glanced to the right, Alex was beside you and he gave you a curious look. You looked away, seeing that Price and Riley were standing at the head of the mass of Hotshots, Riley holding a clipboard and a stopwatch.

A voice came from your left, calm and quiet, yet precise - “You are doing well, Sirena.” You looked to the source, a beautiful woman with pin straight black hair tied back into a short ponytail. You gave a smile, she winked before nodding towards the Supes. You followed, making direct eye contact with Simon. He looked away first, scanning the rest of the firehouse.

“Here’s the thing,” Price started, his arms crossed across his chest. He tapped his fingers against his bicep, his eyes watched the room like a ravenous hawk. “We’ve got another month of mandatory 40 hour weeks, then it’s heads or tails if we’re bumped up to year-round.”

A chorus of mumbles hummed through the large engine bay, you pulled off the rest of the green plastic so it rested beside you, as did almost everyone else. The breeze from the open bay door,

“The way all of you have been working hard, no matter if you’ve been here for five years or five minutes,” John glanced at you before glancing to another hotshot across the room, you remembered his name being Soap. “We will most likely get our foot in the door.” He looked over his crew again before clapping together his hands. “We’ll see you all on Monday.”

You physically slumped down as the room began to hum with chatter, you looked to your left to talk with the woman who spoke to you earlier but she was gone - already across the room. You weren’t given much time to think on it when Alex walked up, holding his hand out.

“You look like shit.”

You glared at his dumb face, he smirked. “You look like a man with no bitches.”

“Who pissed in your corn flakes?”

“No one, we don’t have any fucking corn flakes since you ate them all.” You grabbed his hand, he easily helped you to your feet.

“You’re goin’ to the store.” Alex patted your arm, dropping his truck keys in the hand he grabbed of yours. “I’m helpin’ Riley out with fixing the damn garage door.”

“You’re a-“

“L/N, surprised you’re even standing.” Gaz chuckled as he approached, you gave him a confused look. “You’ve been workin’ nonstop the past two days. Haven’t seen a fire watch go from sitting around to hotshot work that quickly before.”

You shrugged, hand instantly coming up to knead the side of your neck. “Considering I was a hotshot before, I’d hope I was bouncing back well.”

Gaz smiled at you, patting your shoulder. “You’re doing damn well. Go get some rest before Alex drives you nuts.”

“Trust me, he always is.” You smiled back, ignoring Alex’s kick to your calf. Gaz nodded before he turned away, your hand squeezed the car keys in your hands. Time to go grocery shopping and hopefully drop dead in Aisle 7.

Your body felt like magma, moving sluggishly under intense weight and pressure - and you were just pushing your cart at the grocery store. A pack of underwear, a carton of eggs, a case of flavored electrolyte water sat in your small cart; you plucked a bag of your favorite chips and settled them on top of the five pack of underwear that was ridiculously priced. It’s not like you can go back and get any of your stuff at a time like this; work was much more important than material things that could be replaced. That and it’s a delicate game with Justin, he would definitely draw up some bogus restraining order. A part of you cringed, knowing he was probably doing just that as you walked around this small supermarket. Your phone sat in your hand, screen black from no use before it pinged.

Alex

pick up some cheese plz

Alex

nd mustard

You

Chips too?

Alex

You

What else

Alex

buns

You

And hot dogs?

Alex

no more hot dogs

soap bought me 300 hot dogs 2 wk ago

too many hot dog

eating all hot fog 2nite

*dog

🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

“Keepin’ your nose in your phone is how you crash into a shelf, Firewatch.”

You jolted from your conversation with Alex, head darted up to meet the gaze of your Superintendent. He was in the dirty t-shirt he had worn all day, arms crossed on his chest. You looked around the aisle, you had moved yourself to the side to not be in the way a long while ago. A gentle smirk invaded your lips.

“I’m shopping, not working.”

Price smiled, teeth pearly white. “You were nudging yourself down the aisle, you’re going to hit the display.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to the giant cardboard hot dog bun display at the end of the aisle. You shrugged.

“I need to go there.”

“And take down the display when you do it?”

You gave him a deadpan look, he laughed a little.

“How’re you settling in with Alex?”

You rolled your eyes, your own tired laugh left your lips. “The only thing he has to eat in his fridge are hot dogs, apparently.” You took a look at the red container of Folgers Coffee Grounds in his hands before asking, “Aren’t Brits supposed to be all about tea?”

Price glanced down at the container before he answered, “Simon is. I prefer coffee.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand but you ignored it, shrugging as you remarked, “Not very British of you, Supe.”

“John.”

There was a glimmer of warmth in his blue eyes, your diaphragm fluttered for just a moment before you murmured, “What?”

He grinned then, a mischievous glint in his eye that disappeared after just a millisecond. “It’s John. Outside of work.”

You nodded curtly as you looked down the aisle again, you looked back to John. “Didn’t expect you to be one for informalities outside of work.”

He shrugged briefly. “It’s whatever you would like to call me.”

“John is fine.”

“I expected you to have more than just eggs to eat.”

“I’d make you dinner if I didn’t just move down into my best friend’s bare minimum apartment.” You cringed a little before correcting yourself, “As a thank you. For-”

John laughed a little, putting his hand up and chuckling, “It’s all right, I get what you mean. I might take you up on the offer.”

You opened your mouth to speak but you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You gave John an apologetic look before looking at kt, reading the name of your ex on the screen. You looked back to him, “I’m sorry, John, I’ve- I’ve got to answer this.”

He nodded. “No problem. I’ll see you on Monday.” He waved a little before walking away.

“Bye.” You said quietly, hoping he heard before you answered the call. You put the phone to your ear, ready to hear pleading and crying. “What do you want?“

“Where the fuck did you go?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, that was a completely different answer than you expected. He watched you leave. You didn’t even take your car. Why would he care? “None of your business.”

“It is my business when my fiancé has been gone for two whole days with her location off.”

Are you fucking serious? “We’re over.”

“No, we’re not. You’re being a child.”

“Me? I’m-“ You take a quick breath, hands starting to shake with anger. “What is the purpose of your call?”

“I need to know where you are.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, you’re not at your mom’s.”

Your eyes widened, hands gripping the shopping cart tightly. “You went-“

“She doesn’t even know where you are. I’ll start going through your friends.”

Genuine fear ran through you then, your expression dropped but not as hard as your stomach. You were sure Justin wasn’t violent before, but now? You didn’t know the man on the other line, he sounded like a stranger. A furious and vengeful stranger.

You wiped your nose, wiggling it to try and stop yourself from crying out of fear. “I don’t want to see you.”

“But I need to see you.”

“No, you don’t.” You felt bile rise in your throat, a heavy presence in the front of your head - a migraine. You were annoyed, but damn, were you scared. There’s something to be said about feeling like the person you love won’t hurt you, yet here he is - making threats. “I don’t want you here.”

There’s a pause, you hear a thud on the other side of the line and glass breaking. “Tell me where you are.”

“No.”

Another thud, thud, thud, then the angry shout of your name right before you end the call. Your phone stayed pressed against your ear for just a moment before you let it gently fall, slipping it into your pocket. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, embarrassed that you were crying in public. You were quick to push your cart away, hoping all would be okay. Hoping Justin didn’t know where Alex lived. Praying would be a better descriptor, but pleading with God was what you were truly doing. The only thing you missed as you walked away was a concerned John Price in the aisle over, hands gripping the coffee tin like a vice.

taglist:

@all-good-things-have-an-ending @warners-wife @random0lover @blingblong55 @local-spidey @sanfransolomitatm @frazie99 @khadeejarh @domaniquessidehoe2 @iaur @graciereads @urfavoritepookie @ghostwifeyy @live-love-be-unique

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delopsia · 11 months

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Peaches | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Your peaches are missing.

And you know they haven't grown legs and walked off down the road because you just brought them home from the market yesterday. You'd bought a dozen of them because the lady selling them had more than she knew what to do with; an overly bountiful crop can be just as stressful as one that doesn't produce at all. Eight remain in the fridge, right where you left them, and you had one last night, so where have the three in your fruit bowl gone?

There's movement out your back window.

Someone walking past; a glimpse of a blue flannel and a white straw cowboy hat. The hat you bought Rhett in the spring because his old summer hat was falling apart, and his favorite felt one is far too warm to be worn when the temperatures creep above sixty.

He stops just short of the sliding door, tosses his beloved hat onto a patio chair, and doesn't seem to notice that a pair of eyes are on him. No, he's too busy reaching behind his head, pinching his flannel where it rests between his shoulder blades, and tugging it upward.

And you cannot say you're complaining.

That blue plaid is drenched with sweat, a wondrous contrast to the pale, milky white skin that it clings to. Slowly revealing that gently defined stomach, soft lines that flex as he pulls the shirt further. The gentle swell of his chest and the faint outline of ribs that have suffered more than enough breaks and cracks over the years. Deep-set ink of a bull and its rider higher on his broad chest, resting beneath strong collarbones that lead to even wider shoulders.

Even paler scars catch in the light; one beneath his collar, a gift from a bull with a knack for kicking right where that protective vest ended. Another rests low between his ribs, and carries a tale of a drunk bar fight with a man willing to use shattered glass to his advantage. That ER visit was anything but fun.

Oh, well, would you look at that?

Rhett's got one of your missing peaches in his hand.

Shiny and wet from where he's surely rinsed it off using water from the hose, glistening in the sunlight, much like Rhett does. He raises it to his lips as he settles into one of your chairs.

And that is a sight to behold.

Your beloved cowboy biting deep into a peach, his eyes happily shut, smiling to himself because of something that crosses his pretty little mind. Uncaring of how the juice of the peach drips from his thin lips, dripping from his chin and rolling down his already shimmering chest.

Until now, you've never considered yourself the type to drool over such a simple thing. But as you head back to the refrigerator, plucking another one of those delightful little fruits from its resting place, you think you'd pay to see him eat these.

He doesn't pay you any mind, as you slide the door open and step out onto the half-finished deck. A home project thats been slowed by the heat, and you are not one to complain about the delay.

"I was wondering where my peaches wandered off to," you chirp, holding out the chilled fruit and placing it into his open, dripping palm.

"'m sorry," but there's no shame in his mumbled words, as he bites into what you've handed him. Humming to himself all along, silently thrilled by the cool juice on his burning tongue. Dripping like a fountain, past his unshaven jaw and down his neck. Even has the audacity to run down his arm, dancing across the protruding veins that you would really, really like to feel against your tongue, right about now.

Rhett's eyes flicker up, meeting with yours, but only briefly.

His ears redden, a flush that reaches down into his cheeks, and he looks away with a quiet giggle.

"What?" You're smiling, unashamed of how you've been caught red-handed.

Rhett can't bring himself to speak, covers his smile with the back of his hand, but it's futile. The corners of his eyes wrinkle with his grin, and his eyes flicker to everything but you.

You're stepping closer, bending down until you're face to face with him, "something the matter, cowboy?" Reaching out to curl your fingers around his sticky jaw, lifting him to look at you.

"Naw," there's that drawl of his, "jus' thinkin'."

"About what?" Tracing down his neck, chasing a rogue bead of juice, following as it crosses his beautifully muscled chest.

His eyes drop, looking down to your soft summer shorts as he reaches for them, playing with the hem of them. When his gaze lifts once more, its darkened, sparkling with a twinge of excitement that he can't quite hide.

Licking your lips, you lean forward, taking a bite of his peach for yourself; juice running down your lips like its being paid to do it. "Something you want?"

"Uhuh," nodding dumbly.

You're thankful that the two of you settled on a house out in the country, where the neighbors are far and few between. That your home is hidden behind a long, winding driveway and that you're not expecting any deliveries today. Because as his peach-flavored lips hungrily collide with yours, and he rises to push you into a patio chair, you don't you'll be making it inside.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's warmups #tw: food

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carboardserpent · 6 months

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Next gen headcanons? 🤔

Like, Jackson, Cruz, Tim, Danny, Chase, and Ryan?

Oh boy, that's a few characters. Alright, strap in then. Probably also gonna throw in Bubba because he's my favourite non-main next gen <3

(Humanised, as always)

(Quick disclaimer for this one, none of these are supposed to reflect on the irl racers that gave their names and voices to them - I'm treating these characters as though they're entirely fictional and not based on/inspired by real people. I make my HCs literally just based on Vibes (and RPs))

Jackson Storm:

6'1 and fit AF. Clearly spends a lot of time in the gym toning his body and muscles. He is male model levels of gorgeous. Physically flawless black man <3

Short black dreadlocks dyed blue at the ends.

Aromantic (female-leaning)bisexual.

Autistic.

Ray knew he was autistic before Jackson even knew himself, and is the reason he even got diagnosed in the first place.

One of his most common complaints is still about the reflections of the sun glinting in his eyes. The loud noise of the track still gets to him occasionally, but he has special earplugs to help him deal with it.

Can usually be seen drinking a can of IGNTR's flagship energy drink before a race. It helps him calm down and focus in. His sponsors love it, for obvious reasons.

Any time he's on camera, he acts calm and cool but internally he's freaking out. If they ask something he doesn't expect, he visibly tenses up and flounders for a second as he tries to figure out what to say, even if it was a simple question.

Doesn't do fan meets or signings unless he absolutely has to. Even then he tries everything he can to get out of them.

His physical attractiveness makes his already poor attitude even worse. Doesn't know how to talk to people, but gets all the praise and attention he could ever want online.

Yes, he posts photos of himself on various social media. He wasn't sure at first, but Ray convinced him to start shortly after his debut race, hoping that it would help reassure him and give him a bit of a confidence boost. Naturally, it went a little TOO well...

He's a gamer through and through. In any downtime he gets, he's still topping the leaderboards on just about every popular racing game you can play online. He also enjoys the occasional game of CoD and will verbally rip anyone to shreds if they try to come at him.

DUBSTEP. He loves it. If his skull isn't rattling from absolutely filthy, grimy bass, he's not interested.

So, of course, he has to have an incredible sound system that's probably worth more than the average person's car.

He doesn't watch anime. (Stop asking him if he does) Most of his entertainment comes from Twitch streams.

He streams himself playing Super Corsa 4 any chance he gets. Which isn't often with the packed NASCAR schedule, but he tries his best. His user is UrStormChasing

Still doesn't get along with Tim after their rivalry in training and isn't very good at pretending he does either. Their crew chiefs have to make deliberate efforts to stop them from running into each other before they get into their cars.

Cruz Ramirez:

5'5 with an athletic build. She is a Latina woman with visible abs and she deserves them gdi.

Side-parted brown hair a little shorter than jaw length, perpetually kinda wild looking.

Chaotic lesbian hours!

ADHD

Literally cannot sleep at night without a big, milky mug of coffee.

It's not normal to wake up and go for a run before even having breakfast?

She's teaching Lightning to use social media more regularly (for better or for worse). His homework is to send her a funny meme or video that he found that week.

The result of this can sometimes be catastrophic. She'll never be able to unhear him uncertainly attempting to use outdated slang.

Almost every race, there's someone complaining about how she doesn't weigh enough and it's unfair to the rest of them. So she forces them to watch as race officials put extra weights in her car.

Has cussed Danny out in Spanish across Pit Road and will do it again if he carries on-

Is probably the only person on Team Dinoco that is actually nice to Cal and doesn't try to tease him. They get along well.

Tim Treadless:

6'0 with a broad frame and light muscle tone.

Tanned skin and tousled brown hair.

Straight ally.

Just call him Mr. Charismatic, everyone loves him.

Everyone except Jackson, that is. Jackson is the only person who brings out his anger to the point of wanting to throw hands.

Has a wife and a baby, bc of course he does.

One of those guys some people hate for being irritatingly perfect. Usually people that don't actually know him.

Has type 1 diabetes and a bad nut allergy.

Was pulled out of a race at the last minute when he went into anaphylactic shock - the entire race was almost stopped when people started to whisper that it was foul play. The race went on, but the only reason for Treadless' absence was that he had to be pulled for "unforseen medical issues".

Some of the other racers still blame Jackson, who actually had nothing to do with it.

Danny Swervez:

5'10 and fairly slender. Not a lot of bulk to him.

Tanned skin (he's Latino) and short black hair.

Cishet male.

This man is FULL of himself. What an attitude.

Genuinely a good racer, but not many people like him.

He's not a good guy. He's given Cruz some trouble for being a woman, though after she embarrassed him by publicly cussing him out in Spanish, he's learned to keep his unpopular opinions on her to himself.

Isn't exactly what we would call "faithful".

But hey, at least he doesn't cheat on the track (smh)

Has just as little respect for the older racers as Jackson, but is less vocal about it.

Is very bitter about Jackson and Tim being more popular than him, yet still does nothing to change himself for the better.

Has at least attempted to physically fight with other drivers that messed with him on the track several times.

Chase Racelott:

5'9 with a build somewhere between Danny and Tim.

Pale skin and dirty-blonde hair.

Straight ally.

Generally a pretty likeable guy. Not as well-loved as Tim, but he has a good amount of pretty dedicated fans.

Makes jokes about being single/available.

Has pretty average performance on the track, not great, but not poor.

Fairly high energy, he gets along well with Cruz.

Probably one of the best with kids. Has a lot of younger fans because of how he interacts with them during meets and signings.

One of the few who will try not to leave until he's spoken to every fan who wanted to meet him, no matter how long it takes.

Often seen hanging around with Ryan - the two of them cause some pretty good natured trouble together, often involving pranks on the other racers.

Ryan "Inside" Laney:

5'11 with a broad build similar to Tim.

Mixed race (¾ Caucasian, ¼ African American), with short black hair.

Closeted bisexual.

Friendly, but not really a standout character as far as the fans are concerned.

Kind of cocky, but in a cool way.

Has a girlfriend who travels with him.

Agent of chaos when he spends too much time with Chase. Don't turn your back on him.

Bubba Wheelhouse

Absolutely massive 6'2 gentle giant

Another gorgeous black man (fight me), his skin tone isn't quite as dark as Jackson's

Closeted homosexual

Has a fake relationship with a lesbian woman who's actually just his best friend (the racing world is scary and the US South probably wouldn't love an openly gay driver)

Kids ADORE him. Him and Chase are the drivers with the most kid fans.

Throws a football around with fans over the catch fence during rain delays (this one is based on the real Bubba Wallace bc its wholesome af)

Gets asked all the weird gay questions by everyone in the friend group. (Ex. "Is it gay if...?" "What is X actually like?")

Legit just trying to mind his own business, he doesn't want any part of drama or rivalries.

Occasionally finds himself roped into girl talk if the guys have their S/Os around. They're very excited to include him. He's too polite to decline.

#i totally didnt forget i had this sitting in my drafts for EVER #im so sorry it took so long to post #i just needed to post this after so long ong i can only apologise #cars headcanons #pixar cars headcanons #jackson storm #cruz ramirez #tim treadless #danny swervez #chase racelott #ryan inside laney #bubba wheelhouse #pixar cars #cars fandom #cars pixar #disney cars #cars 3

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astramthetaprime · 3 months

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I watch a cool dude on the 'Tube called "City Nerd", he does stuff about urbanism and car-free living. He was doing "most overrated cities" and the last one he mentioned was Oxnard, CA. Y'know, where Ice and Mav bought their first house in my story "The Night Road". Nearly inhaled a bite of Milky Way Bar laughing. The boys bought a house in an overrated, too expensive part of town! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

#icemav #got the house before the wedding

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sliver-ofstraw · 3 months

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WICKED by Avenza HOUSTON by Big Giant Circles SEVCON by Big Giant Circles VINDICATE ME by Big Giant Circles COMMANDO STEVE by Bossfight MILKY WAYS by Bossfight LYCANTHROPY by Cardi SPECTRA by Chipzel THE ART OF WAR by Chipzel TOKYO SKIES by Chipzel THE LUNAR WHALE by Danimal Cannon LONG LIVE THE NEW FRESH by Danimal Cannon CHRONOS by Danimal Cannon & Zef CORRUPTED by Danimal Cannon & Zef LEGACY by Danimal Cannon & Zef LOGIC GATEKEEPER by Danimal Cannon & Zef ANNIHILATE by Destroid DANCE OF THE INCOGNIZANT by FantomenK CRYSTAL TOKYO by FantomenK and Meganeko YOKUMAN by kevviiiinnn CASCADE by Kubbi CHEAT CODES by Nitro Fun FINAL BOSS by Nitro Fun NEW GAME by Nitro Fun BARRACUDA by Noisestorm DUBWOOFER SUBSTEP by Omnitica TRY THIS by Pegboard Nerds UNLOCKED by Plesco CLOSE TO ME by Sabrepulse FIRST CRUSH by Sabrepulse TERMINATION SHOCK by Sabrepulse PAPER DOLLS by Shawn Daley INTO THE ZONE by Shirobon FOX by Shirobon ON THE RUN by Shirobon COOL FRIENDS (REMIX) by Silva Hound HYPE by Tokyo Machine CLASH by Trip40 T'ILL IT'S OVER by Tristam CORE by Zef A ROSE IN A FIELD by Big Giant Circles CHIP ZEAL by Big Giant Circles AGROBACTER by Danimal Cannon EMBER by Kubbi FORMED BY GLACIERS by Kubbi WARM HUGS IN COURT by Kubbi, FTW, and Let's be Friends RAINBOW ROAD by nanobii I'M BEING REELISTIC by Omnitica SUGAR RUSH by PIXL ONCE AGAIN by Tristam

Pick one.

I'm not sure what fits me! What does everyone else think?

#needles in the haystack

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phtharticdelights · 3 months

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I had written this at the time of my Freddie Mercury/Queen hyperfixation. It’s on ao3, but some of you might not use that site so I thought I’d bring it here as well.

If I Found I Could Fly, I’d Soar To The Sun

CW: internalized homophobia & implied sex

Sleep evades Freddie that night.

He rises from bed and stalks over to the window. A cool gust of wind caresses Freddie's skin as he opens his and Mary's bedroom window. After days and nights of sweltering heat, the drop in temperature is welcomed with open arms. With his elbows propped up on the window sill, Freddie leans out into the night. The breeze lifts his ebony tresses of hair like a gentle lover.

Freddie remembers the cigarette dangling between his lips. He reaches for the box of matches beside him, liberating one from its confinement and striking it against the rough surface of the box. Freddie sets the cigarette ablaze. The match, having served its purpose, is tossed into the dark. Maybe Freddie will pick up the used match tomorrow morning and dispose of it properly. Or maybe he'll leave it there. He isn't entirely sure.

Taking a long, slow drag of his cigarette, Freddie gazes at the luminous moon. It is nights like this─quiet and dreadfully lonely─where his mind becomes a wasteland for wandering thoughts. His doubts, worries, and fears fester like an untreated flesh wound. Freddie finds nothing to soothe the infection, which leaves him in unbearable agony. The mental anguish is enough to remind him why he shouldn't be left alone in the first place.

But he isn't alone─not physically, anyway.

A lingering glance over his shoulder confirms Mary's presence. Strands of blonde hair partially obscure her fair face. With the moon's silvery light filtering throughout their bedroom, Mary's golden locks are practically glowing. She's glowing. His own real life sleeping beauty, as radiant as the morning sun.

Freddie should consider himself a lucky bloke. Out of all the men in London, it is he who lays claim to such a lovely woman. He is the one who has the privilege of lying betwixt Mary's milky thighs. He gets to make her double over in a fit of laughter. He wishes her goodnight at the end of the day before sleep takes them under.

I love you, Freddie proclaims a thousand times over.

And he does. How could he not? Mary, with her belief in him and kind words of reassurance, makes loving her easy. Only a fool would resist her.

Yes, he's lucky.

So bloody lucky.

Freddie's dark eyes quickly return to the moon. He mustn't venture to that place. He won't allow himself to muck up his one chance at normalcy.

Freddie loves Mary.

Mary loves him.

It's enough for him. Mary is enough. She has to be enough. Freddie needs her to be enough. He doesn't know what would become of him if he loses Mary all because of─

"Freddie?"

Her sleep ridden voice forces Freddie back to reality. Back to their little bedsit on Victoria Road, Kensington.

The rustling of sheets suggests movement.

"What are you doing up so late?" Mary asks.

Freddie finds himself tongue-tied. He feels her draw nearer, but doesn't dare look back. The eyes are a window to the soul, and his is too dissolute for any decent person to bare witness to. Especially his ray of sunshine.

"Freddie," she wraps her arms around his shoulders. "What's the matter?" Concern is evident in Mary's tone. Of course. It’s in a woman’s nature to worry, after all.

A barely audible sigh escapes Freddie's lips. "It's nothing, darling." he lies without hesitation. "I just had a little trouble staying asleep. I thought a smoke would do the trick."

It truly pains him to be dishonest. However, falsehoods and half truths seem to be essential if this relationship is to last until they're both wrinkled and grey. To tell the truth─the sickening, ugly truth─would mean to admit his wickedness to not only Mary, but to himself.

Thoughts and hazy memories are one thing, but the idea of actually putting his─it into words makes Freddie want to curl into a ball and just die.

Freddie takes one last drag of his almost forgotten cigarette, then he asks Mary to bring the ashtray over. She obliges his request. He puts out the cigarette, quietly thanking his girlfriend as she places the ashtray on the nightstand.

He finds himself in Mary's warm embrace once again. Her head fits snugly in the space between his neck and shoulder. Long, soft blonde hair brushes against Freddie's skin, sending a wave of apprehension down his spine.

"Come back to bed, love." She whispers suggestively, her small lips faintly touching his ear.

A lucky bloke.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Freddie closes the window and lets Mary lead him to their bed. When she sheds her nightgown, Freddie knows that he should be aroused by her nude body. Mary's humble, perky breasts and soft curves should awaken in him a want─an overwhelming need. He should be more than willing to explore the inner-workings of her womanhood.

But most of all, he shouldn't be wishing for those breasts to vanish into thin air, replaced by a flat, toned chest. For those soft curves to become angular in shape. For the velvety, moist opening between her legs to morph into─

No!

He can't go down that road. Not tonight. Not ever.

#writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr #black writers #female writers #writer things #spilled writing #spilled ink #writing #freddie mercury #queen band #fanfiction

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transpunkhell · 2 years

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fuck it just posting my jargyle fic here

i dont have Ao3 so bear with me okay :,) also didnt realize how long this ended up sorry

fluff, confessions, little bit of a j*ncy breakup scene, being gay, LOTS of bong rips and endless weed ;)

Jonathan sat on the side of his bed. The moonlight cast a blue hue into his room, lighting his bedside in a melancholy manner. His face rested in his hands, slightly clammy from overthinking and the anxieties that followed. He should have been relieved, he thought to himself, but all he could do was repeat the scene over and over again in his head.

He had wanted to break up with Nancy. College was something he wanted to pursue, and he began to realize after the move to California that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work anymore. He just wasn't expecting Nancy to dump him first.

Except, he wasn't really being dumped, Jonathan rationalized to himself.

"It's not you, Jonathan, it's...girls. I think I'm more into girls. I'm sorry."

Those words looped endlessly in his mind.

It's not like he was disappointed. Again, he was sort of relieved that he didn't have to be the one to do it. It's just that the more he thought about why he fell out of love with Nancy, the more he struggled to understand exactly what his feelings were.

Jonathan dragged his hands down his face and groaned. He really didn't know how to sort his thoughts on this, and it fucking sucked. He didn't need this right now. He needed something else. He needed-

A familiar honking could be heard from outside. Immediately Jonathan perked up, donned his overshirt, and ran outside. He probably should've been quieter, considering it was almost 2 in the morning, but the persistent honks had probably woken up the entire street at that point.

Argyle continued to smash the horn even as Jonathan was sprinting towards the ever-so-familiar vehicle. He only stopped once his friend had hopped in and shut the door.

"Why do you have the van dude? Aren't you off right now?" Jonathan asked, a little out of breath from that sprint. It was somewhat normal for Argyle to show up at the house at night, but it wasn't normal at all for him to be so rowdy about it when everyone else was asleep. He was a bit of a klutz, sure, but he didn't usually go out of his way to be annoying. Maybe it was urgent, Jonathan mused to himself, though he sort of wished this could've waited until the morning.

"I forgot to turn in the keys," Argyle replied, playing with the keychains dangling from the ignition. "Plus, since you're kind of going through some shit right now, I brought you a surprise..."

Argyle reached toward the middle seats, but he seemed to struggle a little. Miffed, he cursed to himself under his breath, unbuckled his seatbelt, then twisted over to reach deeper toward the floor of the van to pull out a brand-new bong and grinder.

Jonathan was too surprised to speak, but Argyle continued. "So uh, I was gonna save this for your birthday, but I think you kinda need it now, so I'm driving us to my favorite place so we can take rips 'till the sun comes up. That cool?"

Jonathan put his hand to his forehead and smiled. "You're my best friend, man," he said. "The best."

Jonathan choked on milky-white smoke, struggling to breathe normally after taking such a big rip. He handed the bong to Argyle, who took it like he was impatient for it. He reached over to grab the lighter from Jonathan as well, and went to town. The brief moments of the lighter in action remained their only immediate light source, allowing them to see the smoke rise up the bong's neck for mere milliseconds. He held the hit in for a bit, then let it all out in a chaotic coughing fit. Trying to recover still even after passing the bong back to Jonathan, he laid down to look at the stars.

They both rested on top of the van. Argyle had parked on the shoulder of a cliffside road overlooking all of Lenora Hills. The houses, all nestled in the valley, were scarcely lit to vaguely match the starlit sky above them. It was a mildly-pretty sight as is, but it was a gorgeous scene for a couple of stoners.

Unfortunately for Jonathan, his mind could only race. The quiet gave him too much room to think about what had happened earlier, and the high only seemed to make the thoughts more intense.

Nancy coming out to him changed something, something in the way he thought about himself. The conversation repeated itself in his mind.

"How did you know?"

"...Know that I'm into girls?"

"Y-yeah."

It was insightful, learning how Nancy found out about herself. During the conversation, Jonathan focused mainly on Nancy's feelings and what she had to say. Even if they weren't together, he still loved her as a close friend and confidante. Understanding her and being there for her was important to him, more important than anything else in that moment.

But it was the way she described it, falling in love while queer. It was hard to recognize it at first, she said, but once she did, she knew she couldn't deny it. Wanting to spend all of your time with that one person, feeling butterflies when they touch you or hang a little too close for "just friends," thinking about what it would be like to tell them that you like them, and wondering the odds on them liking you back-

"Dude, are you even listening?"

Jonathan snapped out of it and looked at his friend, who was sitting back upright. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was a little lost in thought."

"Spill it, man," Argyle punched him playfully. "Whatcha got?"

Jonathan put his hand through his hair and moved it down to nervously push on the back of his neck. He couldn't even figure out his feelings while sober, so now his words came out scrambled and disorganized.

"I think, uh, Nancy breaking up with me was good for me and all," he started. "I mean, um, I don't know. It was a good reason. Not that there really needs to be a, uh, reason, especially since I was gonna break up with her anyways. I don't know."

Jonathan lost his train of thought, but it's not like it mattered; he wasn't really saying much of anything, and he probably lost Argyle's attention way before. He took a few seconds to compose his thoughts.

"I think I've got a lot of new feelings to sort out," he sighed.

Argyle got that. He pat Jonathan on the back, causing his heart to flutter. His hand felt familiar, in a way that comforted him like a hug.

"Like...what?" Argyle asked, his stoner drawl more obvious than usual. His presence brought Jonathan's entire anxious being to a gradual rest. He knew he was safe to speak his mind here, so he took a breath and went on.

"I've been kind of looking into how I feel about other people. Romantically."

He paused to check if Argyle was still listening, maybe hoping that he wasn't. He was. In fact, their eyes met in a way that convinced Jonathan that he was getting Argyle's full attention. The bong rips were catching up to him—to both of them, really. Both of their tolerances had gone up from smoking pretty much every day, but the hits from the bong had permeated their bloodstreams in a way that the joints they shared in the past just couldn't compare to. It made Jonathan's next choice of words feel a little more emotionally weighted than he had wanted.

"I'm realizing I might not be so, uh, straight, either." Jonathan sighed and twiddled his thumbs. It should have felt good to confide in his best friend like this; he already knew Argyle was supportive of everything, especially being queer, but his anxiety sunk its fangs into him.

Worry physically manifested in his stomach, shooting toward his body's extremities and forcing the palms of his hands to sweat. His skin itched in anticipation of what Argyle would say next. He worried he was admitting this too openly, that he might've accidentally implied something bad, or even-

"Brooooo." Argyle interrupted his racing thoughts. A sweet smile appeared on his face as he continued. "I was literally thinking the exact same thing."

Jonathan straightened up. The haze in his brain made it hard for him to comprehend it entirely, but the butterflies he felt nearly made him vomit now.

"Like uh, being gay and stuff," Argyle continued. "Maybe not gay, but like...bisexual or something. I think I definitely like dudes and dudettes all the same, man...but maybe I like dudes just a li'l more."

Jonathan's mind tried to pull back instances where Argyle seemed interested in other guys. He couldn't come up with anything. Not that he needed to, of course, as Argyle's feelings were often an enigma to him, but he couldn't help but try and look for the hints. Any moments of potential yearning, specific discussions, whatever, were being sorted in his mind at light speed.

"How did you find out?" Jonathan asked without thinking. Immediate regret.

"Trust me man, you don't wanna know," Argyle coughed, having just taken another hit.

"Not true," Jonathan countered. "You're my best friend, dude. I'm really grateful for everything you do for me. I'll do the same for you."

Argyle ran his fingers through his long hair, trying to get his words together. In a moment that felt almost out of character to Jonathan, he saw worry on his best friend's face. He reassured Argyle by wrapping his arm around him. Argyle leaned in, resting his head on Jonathan's shoulder.

The physical contact felt exciting. That moment felt like it could have lasted forever. Argyle was warm, a nice contrast to the nighttime chill, and it only made him want to hold him closer. For a while, even. Jonathan mused ideas of them holding each other in ways they hadn't before, and he found himself yearning for it all.

Fuck, he thought to himself.

The realization hit Jonathan like a truck. His conversation with Nancy popped up in his mind again, as if the thought itself was hammering the nails in the coffin of his heterosexuality. He had a crush on his best friend, and he was crushing hard. Putting those words to his feelings brought a wave of dread over him.

Jonathan tried to reach back in his memories to when this crush started. Maybe it was the time they spent on the road, with the endless stretches of brown and gray in the landscape giving way to loneliness. He reached earlier to when they started smoking together, or when he first met Argyle at Surfer Boy Pizza. He remembered the beating of his heart, the shakiness of his breath, the thoughts that flooded his mind every single time they were together.

He recognized how obvious it was the whole time now, and cursed himself for the new Byers pattern of falling in love with your best friend. He ran through feelings of guilt over whether he was crushing while he and Nancy were still a thing. Was it even rational to feel guilty over this, even after they broke up? Jonathan's anxiety fell into a catastrophic spiral, enhanced by the circular thinking of a heady high.

Argyle cut through Jonathan's thoughts again, but this time it stopped him in his tracks entirely.

"It was kind of you, man."

Three seconds of silence passed as Jonathan tried to pull himself together.

"Wh-what?" he uttered, absolutely dumbfounded. His grip on Argyle tightened a little.

"Yeah man, I think you're really neat. More than neat, even. Magical." Argyle held the bong close, almost like a stuffed animal. "Like, when we smoke, I want to feel that kinda vibe forever, man."

Jonathan forgot about his breathing. He thought, Did Argyle just say he likes me? Did he just call me...magical?

He chuckled awkwardly. He instinctually dropped his head to hide his blushing cheeks, but it wasn't like Argyle could really see it in the dark.

Argyle moved away from Jonathan. He anchored his hand in his hair, body language stiffening with visible anxiety. "That's probably, totally a weird thing to say, I know. Sorry dude."

Jonathan's head shot back up, and he responded immediately. "It's not, man. I swear. I mean..."

The high clouded his better judgement, and all he could focus on was the realization that he liked his best friend. He really liked Argyle. He didn't know what he wanted, or what was appropriate to do, but it didn't seem to matter. His impulses decided to take the plunge.

"I think you're kind of..." Jonathan hesitated. "...magical, too."

Argyle's eyes widened. Jonathan could really see his face light up this time, even in the dark, and it made his heart swell with joyful affection.

"You mean that?" Argyle asked.

"I really do."

Jonathan placed a hand on Argyle's thigh. A jolt of excitement—and maybe a little bit of panic—shot through his body. He was a little bolder now than what he was used to, but he didn't care anymore.

"Are we, like, gay for each other?" Argyle blurted.

They both laughed it off. To Jonathan, it felt like a dream with how easy this was actually going. He thought he was being so awkward right now, but it was with his best friend, so none of that mattered. All that he needed right now was to keep Argyle close.

Argyle placed the bong down and rested his head on Jonathan's lap. The extended physical contact was thrilling now. He brought his hands down to gently comb through Argyle's long hair.

"Hold my hands, man," Argyle mumbled. "I just gotta see if it feels right."

"Okay, man!" Jonathan giggled and intertwined his fingers with Argyle's. His hands were big and cozy, warming up Jonathan's cold palms immediately.

Argyle chuckled to himself, and spoke up again. "Yeaaaahhh," he squeezed Jonathan's hands. "This totally feels right."

Jonathan couldn't get his grin off his face, even if he tried. As they remained close, he took in the ambience of Lenora Hills early in the morning. The first birdsong of the day echoed through the trees. Gentle winds moved past the couple and pushed their hair over their faces. A few more houses in the valley had begun to flick their lights on. The sound of his own breathing, almost in sync with Argyle's, brought a slow rhythm to the moment.

Finally, at the cliffside, with his newfound love, his mind was at peace.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 #jargyle #jonathan byers #argyle #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #romance #confession

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kennedyroadau · 1 year

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arrrrrggggghhhh · 10 months

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‧₊˚✧[New Pin]✧˚₊‧

"You're on a different road, I'm in the Milky Way You want me down on Earth, but I am up in space"

Hiya (＞ｖ＜)ゞ゜+ IM ARRRRGGGGHHH ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

‧₊˚✧[She/Her | 18 | scenemo geek wannabe ]✧˚₊‧

I'm a huge My little pony, Tmnt, Invader Zim, and Sailor Moon fan, I like Cartoons and music, and I think stars are cool ⋆｡°✩

welcome erthingz, read: http://arrrrgggghhh.carrd.co

find me on diff planetz: linktree ⋆｡°✩

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#introduction #intro post #looking for mutuals #looking for friends #looking for moots #looking for followers #queer #emo girl #looking for emo friends #artists on tumblr #artist intro

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rosebug3 · 2 years

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Seb’s Family: Theater and Money

I’ve been thinking about Seb’s family.

THEATER:

Him being the only theater kid and missing big group things to stay home and milk makes me think they don’t want him leaving for college. I know they showed up to HSM and brought posters, but that’s what made him nervous.

We don’t know much about Seb’s family, but he says his whole family are farmers and they all sat together, so I’m assuming they all live on that farm. He was fine until he pointed them out. Them being there suddenly made him too nervous to go on stage. Why, well he says earlier in the season that he practices in the barn and his parents think he’s bonding with the animals. HIs family probably found the theater rehearsal annoying, and while I do think this is why he loves his cows so much, he lied to his parent about what he was doing. I don’t know if he hid the entire show from his family or just really didn’t expect them to come, but at some point, Seb decided his family didn’t support theater. It seems like a tide turned, but unless I missed it, his family didn’t show up to Beauty and the Beast. The show would probably go the route of it being a smaller role, but if you look at their signs, they’re all rainbow. Tim wanted a yay pride moment and what if that’s why they showed up, so no one picked on him. The irony being that he was more afraid of his family than possible bullies. They did the storyline with Big Red wanting to inherit his family business and EJ just had to do the Disney thing and talk to his dad, but what if Disney finally had parents who don’t listen. Maybe they’re all for him doing local theater but the idea of him moving away from the farm is a no.

MONEY:

With Seb missing things for milking, I wondered what his family expected to do when he graduated, or what had they done with the other siblings? I also realized something there.

Seb missed the book road trip and now summer camp to milk. But his parents had no issue with him spending the night at Ashlyn’s and milking wasn’t the reason he missed spring break. A sleepover may be one night, but spring break is a week. He said he stayed home because his cow was pregnant and there was no mention of him also having to milk. It seemed like if Milky White wasn’t pregnant, he would have gone. Spring break is a week, the season 3 summer camp, is 2 weeks. If they could have spared him for one week, they could have spared him for two.

That brings in what the show already started, when it comes to gifts or fancy clothes, Seb can’t afford it. Someone used drove him to Ashlyn’s and clearly, they went shopping but usually, spending the night at a friend’s doesn’t cost anything. It’s not mentioned but I’m assuming that for spring break, Carlos’ parents would have paid for him. A road trip cost money. Summer camp, especially sleepaway camp, cast a lot of money.

Seb’s not missing camp because he’s milking, he’s missing camp because he can’t afford it.

It’ll be cool if they show him during junior year studying college scholarships or jobs for if he can’t afford college. (Possibly behind his parents back if both theories are true.)

#hsmtmts #hsm the series #seb matthew smith #seb matthew-smith #seblos

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translations-by-aiimee · 2 years

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Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 47

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 47

They searched around the hotel with flashlights until the early hours of the morning before going back to bed. A-Yan still didn't give up but was dragged back by Yin Zhou. For safety, the little Daoist priest put talismans on the doors and windows. Lin Yan was afraid of Xiao Yu would be unable to bear the ghost-suppressing charm and insisted on not putting them up. He sat on the edge of the bed with his slippers and looked over them, unable to figure out why.

"From now on, don't go anywhere alone, even in your dreams." Xiao Yu said thoughtfully, "Remember what you said."

"What I said?"

Xiao Yu stared out the window at the outline of the rolling hills and said softly: "Don't stray too far from me, no matter what. Trust me."

The rotten face in the nightmare flashed across his mind. Lin Yan couldn't help shuddering. He glanced at Xiao Yu quickly and nodded.

The wind blew even harder, like blowing a sharp and loud whistle. Lin Yan lay on the bed and recalled the dream he had experienced from the beginning. A sudden detail made him grow cold. Did he really never leave the house? The fright made him move towards Xiao Yu's side. Xiao Yu took advantage of the situation and hugged his waist. He said lightly: "Go to sleep. We'll find out tomorrow when we take a trip along the road."

The night was silent, each with a heavy heart.

The next day was actually rare good weather. The sky was blue, the clouds were very white, and the poplar trees on the roadside were blown by the wind, making a rustling sound.

The small restaurant on the first floor of the hotel set up a breakfast stall and was already open for business. The girl moved quickly, scooping doughnuts out of the pot. Lin Yan asked her about the traffic conditions nearby. There was only one bus in town but it didn't go in the direction of the tomb. The mountain road was difficult to travel. After breakfast, they intercepted an ox cart on the side of the road and sat in the carriage to drive to the ancient tomb.

The dew in the morning hadn't dried yet. The empty mountains were still. The cuckoo's cry rang out. The morning fog was drifting in the sun, like a softly hanging mantle of milky white yarn. Persimmon and pine trees loomed in the mist, and the air was slightly cool.

"It's a nice place." Yin Zhou praised. "It wouldn't be a waste of time to have a few days of relaxation."

The driver, wearing a white cloth jacket, said loudly while driving the ox: "You children really are so playful. We're known for our good view here, but unfortunately, the place is a bit off."

"The road isn't very flat, sit tight." As soon as he finished speaking, the ox cart drove through a big pit. The three of them weren't mentally prepared and almost fell. Yin Zhou covered his ass, and the driver laughed heartily.

A-Yan had been staring into the distance in a daze. At this time, he also let out a rare smile. Lin Yan took out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to him, consoling him: "Don't worry. Now that your master has appeared, at least we can be sure that what he's doing is related to us. Sooner or later we'll run into each other again.

The little Daoist held his schoolbag tightly: "I-I'm afraid something has happened to Master. . ."

Lin Yan shook his head: "Don't listen to A-Zhou trying to scare us. Although we stayed on the second floor last night, the roof isn't high up. There are connected bungalows all around. It's easy to climb up."

"Let's worry about ourselves for now."

A-Yan heard the weariness in his words and didn't say anything.

The ox cart squeaked slowly and turned onto a gravel-paved dirt road. The road was narrow and bumpy. The branches on the date palm trees on both sides of the road were hanging very low. From time to time, they had to bend over to avoid them. The stone bridges and brick houses disappeared. There are green hills and heavy greenery everywhere. The mountains were surrounded by a natural echo field, and the birdsong was extraordinarily clear and melodious.

The driver put his straw hat on his head and hummed an unknown tune leisurely in a high-pitched and desolate voice.

The ancient tomb was much easier to find than expected. The cattle car rounded a lake and a half-completed parking lot came into view, filled with flatbed trucks carrying sand, gravel and bricks.

After walking for a while, the cart stopped at a square that had just been repaired. At the end, a triple-arched stone pagoda leads to the tomb road. The stone steps were made of green stone, and stone horse sculptures were placed on both sides at regular intervals. The stonemasons were clanking away at the stones. On the ground were piles of Chinese roses that had been cut, and the florist was arranging them in pots for the flower bed.

Surrounded by mountains, the stone steps were lined with ancient trees, crowding the middle of the tomb walkway, which is particularly dark and deep. It seemed as though there was no sunlight all year round.

"It's inconvenient to get back to town from here. How long will you children play around here? I'll wait for you at the entrance." The driver was very simple.

"No, no, I can't tell what time it'll be. We'll find another way when we go back." Lin Yan paid him while rubbing his ass, which had been through a terrible ordeal.

The driver was very repulsed by the development of the tourist area. He spat on the ground and cursed: "You must go back before dark. This place is inauspicious." He shook his head and said, "To make money without a clear conscience, this isn't a place to play around!"

They all got out of the car and stood in a row under the archway.

A-Yan touched the stone pillar and said to herself, "It's only been two months since it was built, and the moss is already so thick."

"It's quite imposing. . . Why does it feel so different from the tombs we've travelled to before?" Yin Zhou folded his arms and rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. "Do you guys think the temperature has dropped? It's especially cold and eerie around here."

"Remember the Ming Tombs*?" Lin Yan said softly. "Ming people were very particular about Feng Shui when building tombs, and they often spent years choosing auspicious soils. Taking the Ming Tombs as an example, Yongshou Mountain is surrounded by three sides: east, west, and north. The north side surrounds a small basin. The mausoleum area was built at the foot of the mountain, facing south, with a river in front of it and backed by green mountains, overlooking the south plain from a high place, with a wide view.”

*(T/N: 明十三陵 - mausoleum park of the Ming emperors in Changping district of Beijing)

"You see what's different about this one?"

Yin Zhou pulled out a long-sleeved shirt and put it on. He hissed and complained: "This isn't a wide view. It was suffocating to get through the mountain pass. It felt like I won't see the sun for 800 years and would freeze to death."

"Hey, this mountain is in the wrong direction, why is it in the south? And we passed a lake just now. . ."

Lin Yan said coldly: "It's all reversed. The mountains are in the south, the water is in the north, and the stagnant lake is half-moon-shaped, like a bow enclosing a mausoleum. It's hard for the people who chose the site to find a greater place of such evil."

Yin Zhou wondered: "That's true, but what's the point of making it like this?"

"The location of the house where people live and the placement of furniture is all about Feng Shui. For example, the kitchen is like a knife, and the southwest is the dominant male area. The kitchen is built in the southwest corner of the house, which is not good for the dominant male, making him prone to dark diseases. Another example is the southeast area for the eldest female position. If a man lives in the southeast, the trigram is called the Sky Wind interaction and means he will have an affair. This is the feng shui used by living people." Lin Yan frowned.

"The mausoleum where the dead live has even more feng shui precautions. The mausoleum is unlucky, and the deceased can't sleep peacefully or even be reincarnated."

The little Daoist priest nodded: "Yes, an official in the M-Ming Dynasty offended the emperor so the emperor paved his tomb with red nitrate and vermilion. The coffin was buried at noon, forming an artificial 'sea of hellfire'. The soul of the deceased suffered the pain of fire and exposure day after day. It is said that the descendants dug out his corpse, and the bones were charred and carbonized. It's extremely tragic.”

"The m-mausoleum is about the balance of yin and yang. The place where the official is buried is the Yang. and here is the most yin. The gathering resentment can be used to raise a corpse. The dead are frozen like needles, let alone reincarnation. The opening hour is inauspicious. It's going to be haunted by zombies." The young Daoist priest put his hand on the pergola and squinted towards the towering Zhongtiao Mountain: "The dead won't resist. This is a man-made hell, and the method is very ruthless."

"I wonder how he got through it." Lin Yan pursed his lower lip. "The resentment is still accumulating. No wonder the evil spirits are haunted."

The three walked up the stone steps along the sacred path, passing by the shirtless workers from time to time with white towels on their shoulders. The workers, who rarely saw outsiders, picked up their loads and gave them a curious glance.

Yin Zhou and the little Daoist priest walked in front, and Lin Yan followed behind. The place was a different place from the grassy, forlorn place he remembered. The roar of the cement machine resounded everywhere. In time, more people will come here, vacationing, travelling, children holding the hands of adults, jumping around the coffin, and the gatehouse will sell pamphlets with every artifact unearthed from the grave. What he loved and used during his life will be placed in a glass case for viewing, never to belong to him again.

He didn't know where Xiao Yu's home was. Probably for ghosts, the grave was the only home where they could sleep in peace.

"Sorry, it's like this." Lin Yan whispered to Xiao Yu.

The ghost didn't answer. He looked at him deeply, lifted the hem of his clothes, and walked forward with great strides.

The ancient pathway was a long way to a past life that he could not remember.

Lin Yan looked at Xiao Yu's back and recalled the internship a few months ago with a little warmth. The place where they first met and the story began, the mine lights were brightly lit, the empty crypt was alone, and the good gentleman in white was watching him quietly not far away, his eyes falling, following him to look at the moon again after five hundred years. The world had changed, and there was only one person he could rely on.

More than ever, he wanted to be by his side, say a nice greeting, say that he liked him. Lin Yan walked a few steps closer but the ghost was odd. His body exuded a strange cold aura. His eyes were also extraordinarily cold, and his hands seemed like they were wrapped in porcelain. His knuckle cracked when his fingers curled up, like a walking skeleton.

Lin Yan wanted to chase him, but when he passed A-Yan, the little Daoist held him and shook his head.

"This is his territory, let's be careful." A-Yan's voice was very low. "D-Don't forget that he's a ghost."

"It's all the same to me."

A-Yan hummed contemptuously: "The location of this tomb is strange. In case he seeks revenge for what happened in his life, for his untimely death, don't blame me for not having warned you."

The stone steps turned straight down after reaching a high point, leading to a square and dark entrance. At the door, a temporary row of bungalows was set up with triple plywood. The entrance was open and a middle-aged man with a black and yellow face flashed out, and he saw the three of them from a distance. Lin Yan came forward to exchange pleasantries, and the middle-aged man immediately showed a warm smile after hearing that he was a student of Professor Chen. Then he went back to the house to get a set of keys and took the three of them in stride towards the tomb passage.

Entering the entrance, the surroundings suddenly darkened, leaving only the dim yellow light of the mineral lamps on both sides.

The tomb passage was located on the central axis of the ancient tomb. The stone walls on both sides and the ceiling were made of green bricks, which were extremely strong. The ancient tomb was very deep. The further down the corridor, the colder and more biting the air felt. The stone corridor was poorly ventilated. There was a musty and pungent stench. A straight ladder was installed deep in the corridor, which can bypass the second half of the tomb passage and go directly down to the bottom of the mausoleum.

The person in charge led the three of them inside and explained the progress of the construction of the museum. Lin Yan didn't listen very carefully but felt that the surrounding echoes were very loud, and every word he said was buzzing.

The ladder led directly to the main hall, which was very different from the previous one. The rotten wooden figurines and broken jade materials had been cleaned up. The hall was brightly lit. A circle of glass display cabinets were built against the wall. Illuminated by small yellow and orange spotlights, parts of porcelain jade and other burial objects were placed into the display case. Seven or eight cultural relics maintenance personnel in the middle of the main hall were wearing white gloves and were carefully working on the ground.

The person in charge greeted each of them and took a bunch of keys off of his waist: "Here we are. I've opened this room now. What should we see first?"

Lin Yan glanced at the location of the main tomb, where a new security door was installed, and the door was tightly closed.

"Can't we see the burial chamber?"

The person in charge smiled kindly: "Not now. As you saw when you arrived, the location of the tomb is contrary to the burial scriptures. It's rare that the corpse and coffin have not been damaged by grave robbers after so many years. For fear of exposing the corpse to excessive air, the bones have been sealed up. Until experts arrive to further measure physique, gender, age and paleopathology, we don't have the right equipment." He pointed to the sensors piled up on the ground. "This tomb is extremely valuable for studying the status quo of ancient life. No wonder the professor asked you to come and study."

"After a while, you may take samples and bring them back to the laboratory for research. If you want to see them, wait a few more days."

Lin Yan was horrified as he imagined a scene where they took Xiao Yu's thigh bone away.

After walking around in the front hall, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou lowered their voices to discuss their options. He was a little anxious. With that ghost's temper, he was afraid that, if someone moved his coffin, they would be killed. However, the two discussed with the person in charge for a long time. The middle-aged man just spread his hands, indicating that it was the idea of the superiors, and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't have the key to the main tomb, and it was even more impossible for Lin Yan to get close to the corpse. On the other hand, the little Daoist priest had been checking the security door carefully, and while the person in charge was away, he quietly approached Lin Yan and said in a low voice, "I can open this door."

"B-Besides exorcism, Master has taught me other things." A-Yan raised the corner of his mouth proudly. "I never thought I'd have a use for it one day."

"You know how to pick locks?" Lin Yan said in amazement.

"D-Daoism is used in Fengshui tombs, and opening various doors is a craft handed down from the ancestors."

Lin Yan thought about it for a while, then dragged Yin Zhou and looked around the surrounding situation: "Comrade Technology Emperor, your chance has come. Can the electronic anti-theft alarm system here be disarmed?"

Yin Zhou narrowed his eyes and looked at the alarm with the small red light on the wall. He snapped his fingers: "No problem, just remove it. . ."

He spoke too loudly and had his foot stomped by Lin Yan. It hurt.

The person in charge turned his head, and the three stood side by side, smiling with infinite innocence.

Actually, Lin Yan squeezed through his teeth: "Where are the night clothes you brought?"

"Commonly used and often available. There's no harm in being prepared." Yin Zhou blinked hard.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #bl novel #chinese novel #english translation #chinese bl #danmei #danmei novel #yaoi smut #yaoi novel #yaoi

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

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Well, I promised stargazing ineffables for my android au, and damnit, I’m gonna make due on that.

As always, Crowley is AJ0440, an android with free will, and Aziraphale is a cyborg bookseller who saved him

This takes place when Aziraphale takes Crowley to his hometown of Tadfield, away from London and far from the city.

On with the fic!

“When do I get to drive?”

“When you learn that roads have speed limits.”

“Soooo... that’s a never, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale laughed at Crowley’s response, shaking his head as he drove his car down an old road through a small forest. It was nighttime, and Aziraphale had been waiting all day for this, for a perfect night to show Crowley something he had been missing when they were back home in London.

“Where are we going?” Crowley asked, mismatched eyes looking out the window, watching the trees in the light of headlights.

“A special place.” Aziraphale replied. It was another three minutes before Aziraphale knew where they were and came to a stop off the side of the road. He slipped out, grabbing the blanket and the little tartan-clad tin he had in the back of the car.

He looked up to see Crowley looking around, confused. “A field?” He asked.

“Yes, with lovely little hills that will work perfectly for what I have for us tonight.” Aziraphale replied before grabbing another box from the back, carrying the load in his arms as he headed off in a direction, the android quick to follow. There was a faint, soft glow of pink from Crowley, lighting their way through the grass towards a hill that Aziraphale knew from his childhood.

There was a lone apple tree sitting on it, one that had been there long before he was ever born, a short distance from an apple orchard nearby. It even still had an old swing on it, gently swaying in the breeze in the light of the moon. Crowley didn’t seem to notice the sky yet, his attention more on following Aziraphale to the hill.

Once they got up on it, Aziraphale went about laying out the blanket while Crowley examined the swing, curious of it. He sat himself down on it, after scanning to make sure the old ropes and wooden plank would be safe to hold him, along with the branch. Aziraphale smiled to himself, watching as the android gently pushed himself, a smile coming to the redhead’s face as he moved.

“Did you bring me out here for this? It’s rather nice, and under an apple tree as well, that’s cool.”

“Well, it is a good spot, I used to come here all the time with my mother when I was a little one. This was her favorite tree to pick apples from.”

“Shouldn’t we have come during the day for that?”

“You can’t see the stars during the day, darling.”

Crowley stopped, looking at Aziraphale for a moment before getting off the swing and finally noticing the sky above.

It was perfectly clear night, the moon was bright and beautiful, and the sky was scattered with stars, with just the faintest streak of Milky Way cutting across the darkness above.

“Tadfield sits in the perfect spot where it’s far enough from any major city that light pollution had no affect on it. It’s always had a perfect view of the stars when it’s not cloudy. Anathema thinks it’s because of ley lines or whatnot, but I think it’s just one of those little rare spots where things line up perfectly.” Aziraphale said as he sat himself down. “I brought you out here because I knew you’d want to see the real sky, not just something from your books or artificial. I wanted to give you a chance to see the stars for real, dear.”

He didn’t hear a response from Crowley and glanced up at the android, who stood perfectly still, eyes wide, staring at the stars above. Aziraphale frowned, reaching a hand out, carefully grasping his dear’s fingers, feeling the slightest tremble from them. “Crowley? Anthony?”

Crowley looked down at him now, and if he could cry, Aziraphale was sure he’d be doing it right now. “You gave me the night sky...”

“I... yes,” Aziraphale smiled softly, “it appears that I did.”

“You gave me the night sky.” Crowley said, his voice thick with emotion, he looked like he wanted to sob in joy, but even an advanced android like himself couldn’t do that. Still, the feeling was there. “Holy fuck, you really are an angel.”

He laughed and got down next to Aziraphale, looking at him, there was a pink glow under his eyes, oh, he was blushing. “Why do you do these things?”

“Whatever do you mean, darling?”

“Why... why do you do such nice things for someone like me? You’re constantly giving me wonderful things, saying such kind things, does someone like me even deserve them?”

“Oh...” That made Aziraphale’s heart ache, even after all this time, was Crowley still worried he wasn’t good enough just because he wasn’t human? Reaching up, the cyborg gently cupped Crowley’s face in his hands. “Oh Crowley, I do these things because I love you, because you deserve them. You mean so much to me, more than anything else in the world.”

“Even... even more than your books?”

“My bookshop could burn and I’d be more worried about you than those. And don’t tell me you can be replaced unlike my collection. There are other Crawly models, but there is only one Anthony J. Crowley and I would never want another one, only you.”

He looked into those beautiful, golden eyes and Crowley made a very strange sound, a cross between a heartfelt whine and dial-up. He was suddenly embraced tightly by strong arms, the redhead burying his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder, shaking as he made incomprehensible sounds.

Aziraphale smiled once more, rubbing his love’s back, waiting for him to compose himself. It took a few minutes before Crowley pulled back, coughing, straightening out his jacket, looking embarrassed. “Right, uhh... let’s do some stargazing, yeah? Bet I can identify a bunch of the constellations.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Aziraphale smiled, holding out the box he had grabbed, a pair of high-powered binoculars for Crowley to use to look at the sky better. Crowley looked so excited, trying them out on the moon, happily announcing what he was looking at as Aziraphale opened the tartan tin, munching on a biscuit from inside of it.

He watched as the android excitedly looked up at the stars now, exclaiming with joy when he spotted things he recognized before letting Aziraphale take a look, pulling him close to do so. The cyborg glanced at Crowley when he returned to looking around himself, his heart fluttering at the bliss he brought this lovely man next to him.

Crowley really did deserve so much, and Aziraphale wanted to be the only to help provide him that.

#good omens #do androids dream of cyborg angels au #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #john's drabbles

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beargyuuzz · 1 year

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NETWORKS: @sandsofire @cultofdionysusnet

Summary: your boyfriend looks pretty in his new letterman jacket. You hope you don’t make him ruin it too soon.

Pairings: switch! Renjun x switch! Reader, Volleyball player Renjun x Reader, sub Renjun dynamics

WC: 3987

WARNINGS: Mature Content, Reader is persistent, switch dynamics

GENRES: Established Relationship, Smut, Fluff, College AU

MINORS DNI

Being with Renjun was in every way like winning the lottery. An amazing athlete, an even better singer, respectful, and don't forget….

He's fucking beautiful.

Thin frame, perfect curves, and long, dark black and silver hair down to his sharp jaw. His lips were plush and the perfect shade of pink to stand against his dark eyes and fair skin. He was perfect through and through.

Even now, sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, you can't help but stare at him when his arm flexes on the steering wheel. The lean muscle was taut against his milky skin and a bruise on his wrists from volleyball. His hair was in his eyes, but not enough to create a problem.

The white band tee that adorned his body was perfectly showing his figure, tucked into a pair of black ripped jeans that showed his slender thighs and draped over the combat boots he had picked out this morning.

Part of your mind wondered how exactly you bagged the man. Part of you knew it was fate.

"You're staring, Y/N. Want to tell me why?" His smooth, cocky voice rings through the cool autumn air, causing a slight tint of red to appear on the supple flesh of your cheeks. His eyes shift to you quickly, a near-invisible smirk crossing his lips before he looks back to the road ahead.

You glare at him playfully, slouching in the passenger seat. “Just admiring my pretty boyfriend. Got a problem with that, baby?” You respond to his teasing with an even tone, watching his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He was already slipping up.

This was the game you both played when you were alone. Seeing who would crack first under the flirtation and playfulness. Ever since you both met, you always messed around. Spraying water, hiding shoes, verbal teasing, and more. You always won, but that was because you overpowered him with every given opportunity.

You would have never guessed that's what he liked in bed too.

The first clue was the way he acted when he wanted utterly anything. The shy smile and puppy eyes came out for something as simple as a sip of water. That look intensified if it was a physical need. The whines that would push from his lips were enough to make you want to strip him down all at once.

The second clue was how shy he got when you teased him in public places. Renjun would freeze up at even the smallest touch against his crotch, and god forbid you to make a lewd comment. His pretty face would turn blood red while the rest of him wriggled in his seat to calm down.

The last sign was his reaction to stern words, the boy melting into a puddle the moment you began getting on his case for absolutely anything. The number of times you had nagged him only to watch him rush to a bathroom or cross his legs was obscene.

You loved every bit of it, yet he still refused admission. Any time you brought it up, he shut it down with a nervous glint in his eyes. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of letting you put him in such a vulnerable position.

“N-No, I don't have an issue with it,” Renjun speaks up after a moment, pulling into the sports building of your college and into his usual parking space. The confusion seems to be clear on your face, brows scrunched up when he giggles and flicks your nose. The action makes you whine, your hand going up to rub at your nose in protest.

“The varsity jackets took longer than expected to come in. The small sizes just got here, AKA mine is waiting for me. Coach called.” The explanation makes you smile a bit, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his lips that’s returned with relative speed before he takes his keys and gets out.

You watch as he runs inside, eyes fixed on his pretty hips up until the door closes behind his figure. A tiny whine leaves you, mind drifting to think about the whiny moans he must let out. The feeling of his nipples pressed to yours, his lips swollen and parted as you bite and nibble the delicate skin of his neck, his skin raising in goosebumps every time you graze his cock.

Your eyes glaze over, breathing picking up as your thoughts drift further to hell. Images of your boyfriend blindfolded while you have your way with him, the both of you dripping sweat with every slight movement. The pleading moans that would leave his lips tell you he just wants to touch you.

A familiar heat pools in your core, throbbing when the thought of those pretty lips crying for you to allow him to cum crosses your mind. Every nerve in your body was reacting to the lustful air that had fallen over you. So much so that you hadn’t heard the door to the truck open.

“Y/N? Why are you so red?” Renjun’s voice cuts through the haze, eyes fixed on the tight grip you had on the hem of your skirt. A small hum is your only response, mind still drunk off the heat that had grown into an ache between your thighs. The mix of these things clues him in, body leaning close to yours as he whispers, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours that has you so quiet, baby.”

Your eyes focus on him now, widening at the sight of the green leather that now covers his upper body. His name was written across the breast of the material, a volleyball patch to the left of it along with bones down the sleeves. The color of it made his eyes pop, the cut of it perfectly tailored to his frame. He looked irresistible to you right now, from the excitement in his eyes to the sly smirk splitting across his face.

“It looks so fucking good on you, baby.” You speak in a low tone, hands running up and down his abdomen with a small smirk of your own. His reaction is exactly what you expect, muscles tightening where you touch, face turning a deep red, and eyes looking anywhere but at you. That reaction makes you want to wreck that cute little face of his.

“Thank you, babe.” His words are hardly more than a whisper. Your hand goes to his chin, coaxing his eyes to you as you lean in for a kiss. Renjun’s eyes glue themselves to your plump lips, watching you lick and bite at them with hunger swirling his irises.

When your lips meet, he inhales sharply, his body lurching towards you a bit as he leans into you. You lean back a bit, his arms moving to grasp the headrest and the other gripping the seat between your parted thighs.

Making out with Renjun was messy. Tongues clashing and teeth biting at one another as you fought to win dominance. Your hands move to his hair, messing it up as you desperately tug at the soft tendrils in your grasp. You move your knee between his thighs, pressing it against the growing bulge that was poorly concealed by the dark denim he had on. A low moan passes into your mouth, prompting you to bite down on his lower lip and tug.

With a hiss, he moves his hand to your hip, clutching you as though his life depended on it. This makes you whimper and release your hold on his lip in an instant. The lust filling the car was evident, having fogged the windows with little to no real effort.

Renjun pulls away now, sitting back in his seat with a chuckle before buckling up with you following suit, a pout evident on your expression. You, being the woman you are, saw this as foul play. A challenge. Your eyes look over to his crotch, landing on the strain of his jeans against the girth of his hardened cock.

He starts the car soon after, not noticing your eyes on his body nor you subtly unbuckling as he pulls onto the road. Your next movements are slow to not catch his attention, your body easing closer and your hand resting on his thigh. A small smile spreads his lips at the gentle touch, not suspecting you in the slightest.

Once you stop at a red light, your hands make quick work of his belt and zipper, meeting skin immediately. A small yelp leaves the man at your actions, eyes widened as you render him speechless. You take his cock out, spitting into your palm hastily before teasing his tip lightly.

A small whimper leaves Renjun at the contact, his eyes focusing on the road despite your hands on him. With a giggle, you slowly pump your fist around his girth, feeling him twitch when you tighten your grip.

“Y/N, shit-” He curses breathily, hips twitching as he presses a bit harder on the gas. You had never gone for him in such a dangerous place, especially not his truck. You had usually let him focus on his perfect driving record. Not today. His eyes steal a glance at your face, eyes hooded as he tries to keep himself quiet. The tip of his member had turned an angry shade of red by now, practically begging for more attention despite the initial panic your boyfriend had expressed.

You move your hand a bit faster, watching as he bites down on his lip. You didn’t like that. You wanted to hear him this time. You were used to him keeping quiet in bed, and you were done with that.

With a tighter grip, you lean yourself down and lick the tip of his cock, watching as precum beads from him. A sharp gasp leaves him, eyes widened as you had yet to suck him off. His hips buck up when you spit on his length, pumping your hand to coat him properly. The sound of this action has him spiraling, breathing staggered, face red as he gulps for air.

“You’re insane,” Renjun speaks in a blunt tone, watching you intently. His words, however, are ignored as you take his shaft into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. This rips a loud moan from the male, body jerking at the feeling of your mouth around his cock. You feel yourself clench at the sound, your body melting as you begin to bob your head.

His moans don’t stop, drowning out the music playing on the radio as one hand moves to grip your hair. With a tiny hum, you hollow your cheeks on him, drawing a frustrated growl from his lips at the fact that he couldn’t do anything. He can feel himself teetering on the edge already, eyes fighting to focus on the road despite the oncoming orgasm.

“You couldn’t… fucking wait five minutes?” The words are no less than a growl, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he turns into his driveway and parks with haste. You pull away then, smirking evilly as you take his keys out of the ignition and walk to the door. A frustrated growl slips into the air behind you, the man now annoyed by being edged so suddenly.

You can feel his eyes on you, and you know he's about to snap. It was too bad, really. Too bad he wouldn't be the one winning this time.

When the two of you get inside, you walk straight to the kitchen for water. Your hips sway as you walk, further frustrating the man who was hot on your heels.

You reach up, open the clear door to the cupboard, and take out a glass with a sly smirk that the other couldn't see. He watches you from the dining table, eyes like daggers and arms crossed as he watches you fill the cup and face him.

You gulp down the water, making sure you hold eye contact with Renjun as he begins to get antsy. He shifts in discomfort, adjusting his hardened cock as best he can under your assertive gaze.

"I know damn well you're not playing this game tonight." Renjun breaks the silence as you fill your glass again, brows knit as he tries to gauge your actions. He could tell what you were up to already.

A tiny smirk spreads over your forced blank expression, eyes alight with mischief. This tips him off to your mindset, his face turning a deep red at the ideas you may be having. With that, you set your glass down, walk to the dining table, and pin him to it with a little coo.

"And if I am, baby? Won't you finally let me have some fun? Hm?" A groan passes his lips, eyes fixed on yours like a deer in headlights. You push your hips into him, feeling his hardened length press into your pelvis with a tiny hiss of delight.

Using your knee, you begin to press closer to him, watching Renjun’s eyes slip shut. His body begins to melt against your own, hands wrapping around your waist as his resolve slowly vanishes.

Renjun was trembling now, his mind running in circles as the trance your perfume was putting him in took over. He had never reacted to your touches this way. He had never felt tingly just from your hands shrugging off his coat. When your hands travel under his shirt, this intensifies enough to rip a pitiful whimper from his throat.

Your lips land on his soon after, a little moan filling the air around you both as his cock twitches against you. Renjun deepens the kiss now, nails digging into you at the same time that your slender fingers brush against his erect nipple. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity straight to his girth, his body trembling as he desperately attempts to bring you closer to himself.

“What is it, baby? Wanna go to the room?” you whisper the question against his neck, massaging his sides with a playful grin as he nods. Renjun couldn’t wrap his head around why he suddenly gave in after months of stubbornness.

Maybe it was stress? Or maybe it was the way you touched him this time? He couldn’t tell for sure, but he wasn’t about to complain about it. You pull away with a dark look in your eyes, taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom without saying a single word.

Renjun could feel his nerves build as you opened the door for you both. Your lips catch his then, his form walking backwards as you corner him on the bed.

His hands were all over you, eyes blown out and brain fuzzy from the pleasure slamming through him like a tidal wave.

Your knee presses between his own, adding much-needed pressure to the place he needs you most. A little whimper leaves him as his head rolls back, arms supporting him.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.” You break the kiss as you speak, hands pushing off the varsity jacket when he looks at you.

You swear you had never seen him this desperate. You had never seen his lips in a swollen pout; his hair tousled or his shaking breaths.

Renjun says nothing, taking off his shirt in the same breath as the jacket he had just thrown to the floor. Your eyes meet his milky skin then, reaching out to tease his nipple without a second thought.

The moan that reaches your ears is heavenly, his body spasming at such a simple touch. You feel yourself become soaked now, eyes heavy with the thoughts of what you want to do to him.

Having him like this felt surreal to you. Everything you had dreamt of in the dark of night coming to you at once. His hands reach out to you, only for you to slap them away and tut.

“Not a chance, pretty boy. I’m in charge tonight. Use those pretty lips and tell me what you’re wanting.” Renjun whines in a flustered fit, unsure of how to properly ask you for something he had never had to before.

You watch as the wheels turn in his head, smiling as you begin to move away. You get what you want seconds later, his body lurching forward as he finally speaks.

“Please, baby. I want you to touch me. Do whatever you want with me.” The words come out small, his face a rosy shade of pink from openly admitting to needing you. You move back to your place, hands trailing his body before traveling up and stopping at his lips.

“Hm. Here?” Another whine and a shake of his head. You move to his thigh, hand squeezing firmly. “Here?” Renjun huffs in frustration now, fighting the urge to simply place your hand on his cock. You glare at him now, wanting him to obey your previous words. You lean to his ear, taking a fistful of hair and yanking his head back, reveling in the loud gasp and twitch of his cock.

“Baby, use your fucking words before I take that option from you. Where do you want me to touch you?” The words come out a low growl that vibrates against the man’s skin, his body quivering in response to your harsh treatment of him.

“I want- need you to touch my cock,” Renjun’s voice shakes with every syllable while his eyes meet your own. You spring into action, hands making quick work of his pants as you strip him completely bare.

His hands move to cover him on instinct only to be stopped by your own reaching to slowly stroke his length. A choked moan fills the spacious bedroom, his eyes screwing shut. You spit on his tip, using your hand to spread it around.

The sound alone is enough to make him burst. Renjun could hardly think anymore, the sounds and sensations all but driving him mental. He had never thought about how good it may feel to let you take over, and god, he wished he had let you before now.

He’s awoken from his thoughts when you pull back again, his body shooting up to look at you in protest. Renjun is about to speak when you smirk, eyes aflame with desire.

“Strip me.” The command is a simple one. One that Renjun is sure he can do with ease. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, carefully lifting it up as your hand sneaks back down to his core. A gasp echoes in the room when you touch him again, his hands stopping for a second as he basks in the pleasure.

“Keep going, Junn.” The words come out in a rasp, your eyes hooded as he slowly rolls his hips into your palm. Seeing him this desperate was wrecking you, your body scalding hot from the amount of desire coursing through it. Something about having him bend for you was making you want to skip the fun and fuck him right there.

But that wasn’t what you were after. You wanted to melt him into nothing and mold him like putty. And that was what you were going to do.

Renjun's hands shake when you tighten your grip, removing your skirt as you move your hand faster. A tiny grunt slips from his lips at the wet patch on your mint green panties.

Your hand moves away for a moment, the male whining before you strip off the light pink sweater and mint bra with haste before he hooks his fingers in your panties to pull them off.

The second Renjun sees the way the fabric sticks to your molten core, his entire body trembles. He wants you so badly that he would take anything you gave without complaint.

He would beg if he had to.

His mind felt hazy as you moved onto the bed, dragging his form along with you. A dry feeling builds in his throat, eyes fixed on the gorgeous skin of your thighs. Renjun feels his cock twitch as you tower over him, his breathing ragged when you slowly ghost your fingers from under his ear down his neck, resting it on the man’s breast as you move your hips over his own.

The pathetic whimper that leaves his lips when you roll your pelvis was enough to make you feral. You giggle at him condescendingly, eyeing him like a predator. He was shaking under you, eyes hooded as he licks his lips. The fucked-out expression on his face mixed with the desperation he was exhibiting was delicious.

“Can’t handle it? I only just started and you’re a wreck, pretty baby.” Renjun bucks his hips at that, eyes screwing shut with embarrassment. He was far too needy for this type of teasing and you knew it. You raise a brow at him, making a small sound of disappointment as you slightly pinch the tender bud beneath your hand.

A sharp gasp flies into the air, his body jolting as the words slip from him. “Please don’t tease me anymore- Do something! Please?”

With that, you spur into action, your hand moving to his cock as you grasp him firmly. Renjun moans, eyes widening to look at you when you begin to pump your fist once more. A loud moan passes his lips, eyes rolling back at the ruthless pace you almost automatically set. You move down, spitting on the tip of his girth without a single halt in your movements. The sensations were overwhelming for Renjun, his climax building back with a vengeance unknown to him.

When his moaning becomes short, you pull away and leave him on the edge for the second time today. A loud whine of protest is his response to this, brows knit together as you wrap a hand around his throat. Renjun stops his fit immediately, pupils blowing up as he lets out a startled gasp.

“Keep fucking whining and I won’t let you cum at all, baby. Do you understand?” Renjun nods in response, your hand tightening and your eyes narrowing. He knew in an instant what you wanted, legs trembling as he moves to remedy his mistake.

“Yes, I understand.” The words are meek, a coo leaving you before you grab a condom from the drawer of your nightstand. Renjun can feel his heart rate pick up at the idea of finally getting to feel you. He had wanted you this morning, but the text about that stupid varsity jacket changed those plans and any he had for today. He wasn't complaining, though.

He watches you open the packet with his teeth, eyes focused on his length while you roll the thin latex onto him. A small hiss leaves the man, eyes losing focus.

When you squeeze him for the umpteenth time tonight, he seemingly reaches his breaking point. With a strangled groan, he moves up to grab your face in desperation.

“Baby, please do something! I can’t handle the teasing-“ he’s shocked when you shove him down, eyes ablaze as you move on top of him. In one swift movement, you sink yourself fully onto him. A long groan leaves you both, bodies feeling strained by the sudden pleasure. All renjun could think about was how badly he’s needed you today. All he could do was pray you would be merciful and give him what he needs.

You, on the other hand, were inches from losing control. Every time he so much as let out a breath, you felt as though you were being tazed. Your patience earlier was no more. You roll your hips experimentally, eyes screwing shut as the stretch dulls down.

And just from that, Renjun was in for a long night.

Tags: will be repaired when possible

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allypacino · 2 years

Text

The last gasp of twilight sears the horizon red. This time of the year, sunlight retreats fast and unforgiving — the ground hardens up, and spits out the dead. Stray snakes or burrowing mice; belly turned pale under moonlight. By the end of the week, he began putting them back into the earth before the morning, when truck tires and dripping diesel would claim their land. The beat of the action calmed him. Sleep did not come anymore.

Now he’s arrived. This far out in the middle of nowhere, no fluorescence to gape at the night sky, the Milky Way streaks across his vision like a wound.

He heaves himself up on the hood of his car and closes his eyes. Beneath, the engine hums a listless tune.

There was a myth Dean had heard muttered on the road, of a cowherd and a weaver of the gods. It was from the mouth of a woman sitting on the front steps of a takeaway, a cigarette dangling from her yellowing fingertips.

“Lovers,” she had said. “Who cannot see each other, banished by the heavens. But they moved the gods and can meet once a year, on a bridge of birds.”

“Magpies, right?” Sam asked. “It’s a popular story in many parts of Asia.”

“Beautiful,” Dean said. “Can’t see how that’ll come in use, though.”

“Now I didn’t say useful, Winchester,” she blew out a cloud of smoke. “But I see things you don’t. All I’m saying is, there will be a time you need patience, to get something you want.”

“You hear that?” Dean said, exasperated. “Quit your moaning. Dad will get back in touch.”

The woman looked at them. By then the cigarette had burned all the way down to the filter.

“Tell me where he is,” he asked like a litany.

Under the blare of phosphorescent lights, Dean was floating. Apartment to apartment, angel to angel; growing wet with blood. In feverish pulses, he dug into their wind-tossed limbs — and soaked in the hemorrhage of their prayers. Here stood a devil. He dove back under. Here begot an executioner, birthing naked and fluorescent in these dying vessels.

“I am your parasite,” he growled, a knife teasing the bends of their elbow. “And I will be your plague. Tell me where he is.”

“I— ” he gasped. “Don’t—

A scream lit up the flat.

Electricity licked back into the fridge light.

“Fine,” Chuck breathed. “You have my attention. What do you want?”

Smack.

A crow careens itself into the side of his car. The gravel catches its body. He watches the sheen black feathers sway in the cool air, lit aflame with the glow of sunset.

In human terms, your molecules simply do not exist on the same dimension anymore. Do you understand what that means? You are matter. He is anti-matter. I brought them all back, and I can bring him back, but it takes a great deal of power to hold onto this reality. For him. And you can save your speech. You forget I wrote this story. I had to watch as my soldier laid his allegiance at your crooked human coil. How do you think I felt? I saw his grace stitch itself to your soul, I saw the hum of those atoms to your song. I saw every confession bleed its way out of you into anger. What a wretched thing your soul is, carved a thousand ways by your daddy’s knives. I loved you once, too, the way you love a dying star. I understand it less and less. But I grant you this. Only because, it seems, I cannot stop you.

In the distance, by the side of the road, the elm tree breaks off clean in half. The air sweeps around the barren trunk, and all around Dean, grows heavy.

“It is useful!” She shouted.

“What?” He turned around, hand already around the handlebar of the car door.

“The story,” she said. “The story’s useful because we celebrate it. Because we get to make time for love once a year. That’s enough to make it useful.”

He laughed, surprised. “Sure, Woodstock!”

She grinned back at him, and the sun hung golden in the sky.

A trail of dirt rushes forward towards the elm tree, and he sees it now — what split the tree had sucked in the top half, along with whatever else is close to it. Was it like this last time too? Undoubtedly. But he was a man mottled with grief and uncertainty, and did not trust his vision until the very end. But this time he could not look away, could not ignore how it sucked all the oxygen out of the night. Wind wraps around his torso and tightens. He cannot breathe. He does not want to.

Time trickles to a stop.

He hears the soft beat of his footsteps.

Then — all at once — he comes home to him.

#destiel fic #deancas #spn #ficlet #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #destiel

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