#i thought of this while driving on the interstate

[nathaniacolver]

stereotype strike! the best driver you know is female, gay, AND asian

the seven other vehicles that she operates (equalist tram, equalist mecha tank, biplane, speedboat, airship, sandsailer, hummingbird suit) not pictured

[toxictac]

Soo i watched death battles new episode, was fun... but man outside of the vs debate stuff

Is it weird to say i dont like how bardock is characterise? like its not bad perse, i dont think he is quite out of character and i havent read minus or the dragon ball manga

But its weird to see him being a brute force fighter and not a more tacian fighter, i mean in his first battle againts the friza soldiers he uses tactics like incresing his power level or obscuring their vision to get the upper hand

Plus i dont like how they use the iconic pose and his signature attack, idk i think the whole idea of "trying to defy fate" is kinda lost on the animation

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Me: "I'm a little early sorry" (10 min early)

Also me: drove about 5 min or so out past where I was going because I was worried about being TOO early

(Also also me: didn't really know what was past where I was going and started to panic because I wasn't sure when I'd actually be able to turn around)

[superhoeva]

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 – 𝐚. 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐲 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭; +𝟏𝟖) | OKAY. very nervous and excited about this one. it was supposed to be a two paragraph blurb... then it balloned as it always does. very special thanks to @robbyology for their kind words about exploring kink in fic. i've become sooo much more open with others and myself when writing/reading taboo and dark fics but still start shaking in my boots when trying to show that growth. eneeways, i hope you find this as hot as i did! i need this man so bad y'all, i'm SICK. if anyone can guess where i got the title from, i'll give you my a cookie <3 word count is sitting at 1.2k :)

warning(s) include language, watersports, holding!kink, freaky!pope, taboo/dubcon, reader has a vagina, pope wants to watch you pee, bodily fluids, public urination; also PLEASE remember this is fiction. do NOT hold in your pee regularly unless you want kidney failure (which can very much kill you)

Of course, Pope doesn't realize he has a piss kink until you're sitting in the passenger's seat of his truck, leg bouncing and gritting your teeth. He immediately asks you what's wrong and you reassure him that you're fine.

"Just gotta pee..." you clarify, and his eyes zip to your clenched thighs.

Gulping, he thinks. You're on the interstate and will be for a while.

"Well... you want me to pull over or–"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head. "No. No, it's fine. Don't wanna go on the side of the road."

Pope shuffles in his place, flicking his stare to you again.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, Pope. I'm good, just try not to hit any–" Thump. The vehicle jumps with a hard jerk, Pope steadying the steering wheel as you gasp and shut your eyes. Your thighs shut even tighter, a groan pouring from you after you hold your seat with a worried grip. "...bumps."

Mumbling a sorry, Pope scratches the back of his head. A thousand words are stuck in his throat and they won't move. Not with you less than an arms length away, doing a bad job at hiding your squirm and quiet groans.

Shit. Why the fuck is he getting hard? Is he that into you that the sight of you struggling to hold your piss is getting to him this badly? The answer is a resounding yes, and he's rock solid and bulging through the crotch of his jeans not even a few minutes later.

Luckily... or unluckily... you're too busy trying not to pee all over his seat. Fuck, the thought of that does not help the man, who ends up grunting out loud before he can stop himself.

There's a shift that happens in Pope after that... one driven by the thoughts of his cock and not his brain. He inhales silently, pushing out his next question on a tight breath.

"...they were really pushing the drinks there, weren't they. You had to have... what? Four? Five? Was kind of impressive, actually. Chugged 'em all like a damn champ."

Pope doesn't look at you when he speaks. But he can still feel the helpless stare you throw his way, your eyebrows furrowed and body rigid as you squeeze. He bets you feel great, all warm and clenched. and he wonders how much warmer you'd feel if he can coax you into letting it go while he was still inside you.

Go ahead. Call him a freak, it's nothing he hasn't heard before.

"Andrew," you call out, the strain of your voice twitching his cock. The fidgeting you're doing is getting worse. More noticeable, more desperate, more distressed.

"Sorry. s'probably not helping, is it? Me talking 'bout drinkin' stuff," Pope continues, making sure to drive over the small hole in the road he sees a few feet ahead. The truck bounces again.

"Shit–seriously," you start, voice wobbly with what sounds a little like embarrassment. You turn to him halfway, eyes pleading. "No more bumps. please, or you'll make me piss my pants."

"Might be you're only option, darlin'," he eases out, swallow at the way your eyebrows furrow at his words. "Don't see another exit comin' up for a while."

You curse again, this time to yourself and quieter. Turning your head from him and to the window, you bite hard into the inside of your cheek as your bladder inches closer and closer to giving out.

Not one part of you is willing to admit that the pressure feels... nice. Better than nice and it's making you wet as you sit here next to the man who is unknowingly the usual cause of your arousal.

Out of the corner of the eye, you see the thick of his arms flex as they readjust themselves.

Hm. Okay.

You need out of this car.

Now.

"Okay, yeah. P-pull over, 'm not gonna make it back into town," you tell Pope, who feels a heat bloom throughout his chest.

He obeys you with zero words, merging the truck and pulling it to an easing stop. The rasp of his voice sounds just as you're rushing to unbuckle and pop open the door.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Just wait–

"Pope, what–"

"Can I watch?"

For the first time since you've gotten in the car, you freeze. It becomes so silent that you can almost hear the gulp that bobs Pope's throat. When you swivel your head, he doesn't look at you... not until you let out a small what?

A long inhale rises his chest and he holds it for a few seconds before huffing out the air, eyes cutting to look at yours.

"Can I?"

Pope doesn't blink the entire time you think on an answer. his heart jumps in his chest when you finally open your mouth.

"...okay."

He follows you away from the truck and behind a thick gathering of trees. Mouth settled in a hard lie to stop him from grimacing at the way his dick is rubbing against the fabric in his jeans with every other step.

Stomach flipping when you stop, you turn and blink at Pope. throwing him a tense smile, he quirks his mouth at you.

"So i'm just gonna..." you sputter out and he nods reassuringly, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

"Do your thing," Pope tells you, scanning his stare to make sure no one else is around. Once he's certain, he looks back to you... eyes darkening when you start to unbutton your jeans.

Hooking your thumbs at the waistband, you pause.

"Do you... do you wanna get closer?"

Pope's answer is a hesitant step toward you. One that sucks the air from your lungs and compels you to pull your bottoms the rest of your way down. His breath hitches as you reveal yourself to him and he shudders all over.

He studies you, unmoving and eyes cemented while you lower into a deep squat and lean against the nearest tree. There's no use in trying to stop the sinking of his stare. rattling with a shaky, sharp inhale, Pope watches you... mesmerized as you finally release.

Jesus, you sound like you're coming with the noises you're making. choking out groans of relief and sweet whines. Your stream is strong and loud splashing beneath you messily, and Pope's mouth is damn near watering at your exposed slit.

"Fuck, that's pretty," the man mumbles to himself, hands clenched into tight fists. His cock is pulsing and now he's unsure that he'll make it home with needing some kind of relief of his own.

You finish with a easy trickle, and Pope hurries to offer his arm. Taking your hand, he tugs you upwards in complete silence, and you end up closer to him than you expect. It stays quiet between the two of you as Pope bends and helps you underwear and jeans back into place.

Buttoning your jeans, Pope floats his face near yours with a bite of his lip. All you can do is look at him. He looks right back.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Thank you," Pope replies lowly, hands dragging across your hips before he pulls them away.

You don't think about your next move, you just do it. Grab the thick bulge between his legs and pressing until Pope croaks.

"Might need a few more minutes," the man grates out, voice edging with a held back laugh.

Pope groans out again when you squeeze him harder.

"No worries," you bob your head, eyes brightening a touch. "...Can I watch?"

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part III

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: Thank you for all the lovely messages about this series! I'm so happy y'all are loving it and are excited to see it continued <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2200+

Part I | Masterlist

“You got a girlfriend, Brad Bradshaw?”

Bradley looks over at you, sitting in his passenger seat in a green sundress, fiddling with a charm on your bracelet. “No,” he replies rather hoarsely, unsure how to interpret your question.

“Why not?” you continue, your tone light and carefree, as though you’re just asking about the weather.

“I dunno,” Bradley mutters uncomfortably, returning his attention to the road.

You look up at him abruptly and he throws you a brief glance; just long enough to see the concern on your face. “Think about it,” you suggest.

Bradley sighs, making a concentrated effort to check his blind spot before switching lanes – like driving could distract him from this conversation. Why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? He’s never really thought about it so, clearly, it hasn’t been at the top of his priority list. “The last girlfriend I had was in college. Didn’t last long, either,” he says, hoping this might appease your curiosity enough for you to change the subject.

“Hmm.”

He looks over at you again, wondering what you’re thinking. Wondering if you might consider this little detail a red flag. “I haven’t really met anyone I wanted to spend all my time with,” he says. Until now.

“Interesting,” you muse, leaning back into your seat as though you’re satisfied with this response.

“Is it?” Bradley asks, his gaze inadvertently coasting over your bare thighs every time he glances at you.

You shrug mildly, your fingers once again toying with your bracelet.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bradley asks, feeling temporarily bold.

“Mmm,” you deliberate, dropping your hands into your lap and slanting your head back against the headrest. “We’ll see.”

Bradley furrows his eyebrows, now watching you more than he’s watching the road. “What does that mean?”

“It means, we’ll see, sugar,” you respond absently. Then, suddenly, you spring up in your seat. “Apple orchard ahead!” you exclaim, pointing at the sign on the side of the interstate.

Bradley, more confused than ever, blinks between your outstretched arm, the billboard, and the road. “You want to pick apples?”

You give Bradley a look and say, “They’ll have pie!”

“Oh!” Bradley chuckles. “Say no more.” He makes a few lane changes so as not to miss the fast-approaching exit.

“We can have the pie for lunch,” you say, glancing at the clock on his dash.

“We can stop for lunch and then get pie,” Bradley proposes, hoping to once again enjoy the pleasure of your company at a restaurant.

You consider his offer and then counter with, “We can have some pie, then have lunch, and then have some more pie.”

Bradley laughs. “Sold.”

…

About an hour later, Bradley is sitting with you on a small dock overlooking a creek, the open pie box positioned in between the two of you.

“That’s a fresh pie,” you comment, sticking your fork into the flaky crust.

Bradley grins at the top of your head as you lean over the box to take a bite. For some reason, your obsession with pie supremely amuses him. “You’re fucking adorable,” he says before he can stop himself.

You freeze with the fork in your mouth and then slowly blink up at him, your eyes searching his for a moment before you sensually draw the fork out of your mouth and then lick it for good measure. Bradley nearly has a heart attack. You smirk at him playfully and then get to your feet. “You think?” you ask, as though you want to hear him say it again. You bend over slightly and lift your leg to remove a sandal.

Bradley watches you gracefully step out of your shoes while beads of sweat collect under the collar of his t-shirt. How could he have let that kind of thing slip?

“Fancy a dip, Rooster?” You eye him mischievously.

Bradley gulps as you bunch up your sundress, exposing more of your legs than he should ever get to see, and dip a toe into the water. The current bubbles around your foot.

“It’s cold!” you squeal, lifting your foot out of the water with a laugh.

Bradley chuckles, getting up as you hop in your excitement on the edge of the dock. “Careful,” he cautions, holding his arm out in case you fall. “Don’t slip.”

You plunge your whole foot into the water before promptly removing it with a splash and a yelp.

“Come on,” he says. “How cold can it be?”

You giggle, taking a hold of his arm as you once again lower your foot into the creek.

Bradley lets his hand close gently around your elbow, steadying you while your toe makes circles in the water.

“How deep do you think it is?”

And before Bradley has a chance to respond, you make your way to the bank and take several steps into the creek, squealing as you go. Bradley shakes his head with a laugh as you wade further in.

“What’re you waitin’ for, handsome?” you call to him when you’re about knee deep in the water.

Bradley, who’s pretty sure he’s going to be replaying that line in his head for the next week, strolls up the dock toward the bank. He slips off his shoes and stands on the slope for a moment, letting the water lap at his bare feet.

“It’s freezing, right?” you exclaim giddily.

Bradley shrugs as he finally enters the – admittedly frigid – water. “It’s nice,” he says. “Refreshing.”

You snort as he strides toward you and, when he’s close enough, you dip your hand into the water and splash him.

“Hey now,” he cautions. “Don’t start something you wouldn't want me to finish.” He’s deep enough now that the bottoms of his shorts are skimming the surface of the water.

You giggle and splash him again – harder this time.

Bradley shakes his head, lowering his hand into the water. “Just remember,” he says, “you asked for this.” And then he glides his hand along the surface, sending a cluster of water droplets in your direction.

You screech, covering your face and, not a moment later, start a boisterous aquatic attack, showering him with icy water and completely impairing his visual field. The skirt of your dress floats in the water like a lily pad as you retreat deeper into the creek.

Bradley, who’s now soaked from head to toe, peels off his t-shirt and tosses it onto the dock. Then, he follows you deeper. “You’ve been warned, princess,” he says, gathering a wave of water and sending it in your direction.

You scream as the giant splash drenches you entirely. You stand still for a moment, accepting your fate, and then you wrap your arms around your shoulders, shivering as you glance up at Bradley whilst water drips from the tip of your nose. “I’m all wet!” you shriek.

Bradley laughs, finally approaching you. “What did you expect?”

“That you’d let me win!”

Bradley eyes you with a smirk. “Let you win? Honey, you don’t know me at all.” Bradley can’t remember the last time in his life he’d used so many pet names, but, looking at you, they just keep rolling off his tongue.

You pout at him, your lashes dripping water every time you blink. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. “Your lips are turning blue,” he says, noticing that your teeth are starting to chatter.

You let Bradley lead you out of the water and, once you’re back on the bank, you start to wring out the bottom of your sundress. The wet material sticks to your curves invitingly and Bradley begrudgingly looks away.

…

“Want me to drive for a while?” you ask, approaching the car.

Bradley looks over at you with an amused smirk as he pulls open the passenger door. “Nope,” he responds.

“You don’t trust me with your precious Bronco?” you ask playfully.

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “I just don’t mind driving.”

“Neither do I.” You shrug.

Bradley ponders for a moment before replying, “Next time.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Planning another road trip with me already?”

Bradley feels the unwelcome – but vexingly predictable – stutter of his heart as you continue to hold his gaze. He tightens his grip on the frame of the door he’s still holding open because he can’t very well sink his hands into you. Not only are you much younger than anyone Bradley’s ever dated, you’re also Hangman’s little sister, a reality so unfortunate that it almost feels contrived. Of all the girls in the world, why does he have to be so utterly infatuated with you? After a few seconds of – we’ll call it deliberate – silence, he grins. “If you’ll have me,” he says.

You smile. “Fun,” you say, drawing a little closer to the passenger door – a little closer to Bradley. “Where are we going?”

Bradley gulps uneasily. “Anywhere,” he says, his voice raspy and uneven.

You graze your teeth over your bottom lip and Bradley could swear that the heat of the afternoon sun is about to melt his very bones. “I’ve always wanted to take the scenic route to Alaska,” you muse, pursing your lips.

Bradley watches you unblinkingly. “Let’s go,” he says.

You let out a peal of laughter and slap him lightly on the chest. “Can you imagine?” you exclaim.

He can. “It’s a bit in the opposite direction,” he says somewhat ironically. “But anything’s better than the desert,” he concludes, slowly shifting his weight after standing very still for a very long time.

You smile at him sympathetically, as though you can tell he’s suffering greatly. “Rain check?” you ask softly.

Bradley, who is absolutely sure that there isn’t a single organ in his body left uncooked, comments facetiously, “Does it ever rain here?”

…

“Let’s stop for some coffee,” you say about half an hour after getting back on the road.

If Bradley didn’t know any better, he’d think you might be finding excuses to extend the trip. “With a pinch of salt?” Bradley teases you, but obediently merges onto the offramp.

“I’m thinking of switching majors,” you say quietly, as though you’re unsure whether you really want to share this information.

Bradley glances over at you as he pulls up to a red light. “Sounds like you might need something a little stronger than coffee.”

You snort loudly and then let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m thinking you might be right, darlin’.”

Bradley’s heart races as he pulls into the lot of the first bar he sees. Frequenting watering holes is absolutely on the list of things Bradley should not be doing with his colleague’s baby sister. But you seem like you need to get something off your chest. And Bradley can’t imagine a more ideal way to spend an evening.

The tavern is low-lit and crowded, and you shift slightly closer to his side upon entering. Bradley instinctively places a hand on your back, like it’s meant to be there or something. He guides you through the packed bar toward an empty table near the back and waves down a server before taking a seat across from you.

He slides you a cocktail menu and watches you peruse it without saying a word. When the server arrives, you order a paloma.

Bradley orders a whiskey neat and fixes you with a weighty look once the server departs. “You want to talk about it?” he asks.

You shrug. “We can.”

Bradley continues searching your face. “Do you want to?”

You sigh and look down into your lap. “Nobody knows yet,” you admit. “I’m halfway through my junior year so switching would really set me back.”

Bradley nods sympathetically. He knows all about being set back. “What are you thinking of switching to?”

“Psych,” you respond hesitantly.

Then the drinks arrive and you fall uncharacteristically silent. Bradley takes a sip of his whiskey while you down a quarter of your cocktail in one gulp. “You want my advice?” he asks. “Or are you just sharing?”

You meet his gaze distantly. “My parents are gonna flip shit,” you says monotonously, as if you haven’t even heard his question.

Bradley smirks at you. “It’s their job to overreact,” he says. “They just want to protect you.”

You absently run your finger around the rim of your glass. “My brother’s gonna question my judgement. Say I’m making a mistake.”

“Your brother has questionable judgement, himself,” Bradley points out.

You let out a small chuckle. “I wish I knew both outcomes before making a decision.”

Bradley could sure relate to that feeling. “Sometimes, you just have to go with your gut. It may not apply here, to be honest, but this guy I know – one of my superiors – he uh, he has this motto: ‘Don’t think, just do.’ I’m not saying yours has to be a split second decision. But, if it were, and you had to decide this minute, without weighing the consequences or talking it over with your family, what would you choose?”

You blink up at him soberly and state, “Naval Academy.”

Bradley’s eyes widen stupidly as he processes your words. “That” – he croaks, then clears his throat – “that’s not psychology.”

You suck in your cheeks and solemnly shake your head.

Part 4

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

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@olliepig

@coffeeaddictedmay

@boringusername3

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@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@adaydreamaway08

@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

[love-bucky-3000]

Joyride (Steve x Bucky x Reader) 18+

Summary: What happens when you're stuck in the back with Steve when traffic hits?

WC: ~3500

Tags: smut, Steve Rogers x Reader, implied Steve x Bucky x Reader, car sex, fingering, implied Mob Boss Stucky bc why not

Uh, Hi so i haven't written in like 5 years and this is my first smut so um if you know me in real life don't read thanks! This isn't proof read so hopefully you dont find too many mistakes. Hope you enjoy:)

The car ride to upstate New York was peaceful and beautiful. That is, until a pile up on the interstate threw a wrench in the plans. Traffic was grid locked and there was no way on or off the highway. You were still happy though. You never took spending time with Steve and Bucky for granted. Between their legitimate and, well- less than legitimate, business matters, Steve and Bucky were spread thin. It took Steve coming home with the need for stitches in his side for you to finally put an end to it. You all needed a vacation, and desperately. The perks of dating the most feared mod bosses in New York was that they had safe houses in just about every state in the northeast United States and the one in New York was more of a couple’s wet dream than a safe house. The boys promised endless relaxation and endless fucking and you were more than ready for it.

“Motherfuck-” Bucky’s voice was cut off by a loud honking and the car jerked forward. It was Bucky’s turn to drive, Steve insisted that he needed extra cuddles from you in the backseat in order to “heal faster” (the stitches were taken out a week ago but you weren’t going to complain). Bucky mumbled another curse under his breath after being cut off again. It seemed that every time the car in front of you moved an inch, another car was there to take its place.

You sighed and stretched your head back onto Steve’s shoulder. You sat between his legs with your back to his chest with him propped up against the door. It wasn’t the safest way to ride but the speedometer hasn’t topped 5 miles per hour in over 2 hours. While you and Steve were comfy in the back, you felt bad that Bucky was the one having to deal with this. Steve told him to use the backroads when possible, but Bucky just wanted to get you to the safe house and into the giant 5 person shower he promised you as quickly as possible, and you’ve already had to smack the side of Steve’s head once when he started to say “I told you so”. Afterall, it was Bucky’s idea to drive separately from their normal drivers. You loved the idea of being alone with them in the car, but now, you’re wishing you had Bucky back here too.

You leaned forward and rubbed your hand up and down Bucky’s right arm after another honk was heard. He huffed and dropped his head back onto the head rest and closed his eyes. You squished his bicep and kissed his cheek. You’ve been watching his side profile since you leaned back on Steve and this was the first glimpse of a smile you’ve seen since traffic became congested. 

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this” you whispered in his ear after you rested your chin on his shoulder. You looked out the front windshield and cars stretched on for miles. His hand reached back and stroked the side of your head as he turned his own and kissed what he could reach of your lips. 

“Not your fault, doll. I thought we would be there by now..” He looked disappointed. According to Steve, Bucky had a whole evening planned for both of you. He didn’t spare details but the blush and the smirk that appeared on his face was enough. 

You yelped as a hand landed harshly on your ass. It was cooling down in New York in preparation for the fall but you had worn comfy shorts so you didn’t overheat with your personal furnace sitting next to you. The personal furnace in question just smacked your ass. You and Bucky jumped for different reasons. The smack scared you and Bucky just had you yell in his ear. Steve was giggling and you realized that position you had put yourself in. You were on your knees on the wide bench on the backseat with your ass in the air to reach Bucky. No wonder he had the bright idea of spanking you.

You rolled your eyes. “Steve, I’m trying to make Bucky feel better.” Bucky hummed and I knew he was smirking at Steve from the front seat. Suddenly, a car honked. Bucky cursed and you looked up to see a large gap between you and the car in front. Bucky stepped on the gas, which sent you flying back into Steve. Steve grunted as you landed back against him. “Sorry sorry!” You said as you tried to wiggle out of Steve’s arms to make sure you didn’t hurt his side. Steve’s arms tightened around you and he buried his nose into the side of your neck. 

“Baby, you have to stop wiggling.” He mumbled into your ear. You blushed. You didn’t land on his stomach like you thought, you landed right on his crotch. You paused your wiggling and relaxed into his arms. He loosened his grip but kept you on his lap. Wet kisses were pressed under your ear and down your shoulder where your sweater had slipped down in the fall. Steve hit your sweet spot and you hummed. You tilted your head back to allow Steve more access. He grinned against your skin and gently bit into the spot, sucking on it to ease the slight sting. You bit your lip and turned your head toward him. 

“What are you doing?” You murmured. Steve kissed his way up to your ear. 

“Just killing time…” he said at the same time as he grabbed your hips and pushed you back onto his growing length. During his recovery, you refused to let him see much action in the bedroom, aside from a few blowjobs and handjobs from both you and Bucky, and he was desperate to be back into one of you. He went back to kissing your neck and moving your hips back to meet his. You could hear his breathing pick up slightly and feel his kisses getting heavier. You let out a little moan when his kisses turned harsh and you melted back into his hold.

You heard Bucky inhale sharply and you lowered your eyes to meet his without moving your head. You met his steel blue eyes filled with lust and something else. Jealousy? Your brain was too mush to decipher it. Steve stopped kissing your neck to look up at Bucky. You watched Bucky’s eyes take in all the red spots littering the right side of your neck. His eyes grew hard. The right side? Yeah, that’s definitely the right of your neck. Bucky’s side of your neck. When the three of you started this relationship, the boy’s proposed that they each get a side of your body they can mark (with permission of course). They were competitive, always bragging on who left the bigger hickey. You let them have their fun. You were getting kisses either way.

Your eyes darted to see Steve’s face out the best you can in your position and he was smirking. “What’s that face for, punk?” Steve said, his voice dripping with pleasure. He knew Bucky couldn’t get to him, but that wouldn’t stop anything from happening at the house. “You marked my side of our girl, Steve,” Bucky’s voice was flat and a little strained. You couldn’t tell if the tension was from driving or if he’s been watching Steve hump you back into him. Steve frowned and looked at your neck in mock confusion. “I don’t know, Buck, you weren’t here to do it yourself…” You heard Bucky growl, and the car jerked forward again. Steve was in big trouble later.

Before you could say something to stop Bucky from doing something stupid, like dragging Steve out into the middle of traffic and tanning his ass black and blue, Steve’s hands began to wander. His right hand rose up your sweater to lay flat on your stomach, tracing small circles around your naval. His kisses didn’t resume but his head stayed right where it was, tucked into your neck. His fingers traced up to your bra line and back down towards your belly button, softly, teasingly. 

“Whatcha say, baby? Wanna give Buck a show?” 

Your eyes fell back to Bucky, who had his head thrown back onto the rest and was watching from the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly and gave you a wink- his permission to you. You didn’t need it but it was a nice reminder that if anyone were to get punished for this show it would be Steve. You smiled at Bucky and turned your head to mouth at Steve’s neck. You bit him hard, hearing his borderline whimper before whispering, “I’d love to.” 

Steve answered by dragging his fingers up your sweater before exposing your bra to the car. You had a moment of panic before remembering how tinted the SUV you were in was. Steve allowed you to sit up to remove the sweater and he unclasped your bra while you leaned forward. You held the bra to your chest and resumed your previous position against Steve. You smirked at Bucky, who was once again not paying attention to the traffic. He cocked an eyebrow and pointedly looked at your hands covering your breasts and the back up to your eyes. You slowly peeled the fabric down your arms, finally allowing Bucky unrestricted viewing of your chest. He bit his lip as his eyes racked in your upper body. His gaze sent you blushing.

His sight was unrestricted for a short time because Steve took your breasts both in his hands. He cupped them from below and ran his thumbs across your hardened peaks. You whimpered and arched your chest into his hands. You missed both of their touches. It has been a long few weeks of them working. Quickies weren’t enough any more. 

“Aw, princess, am I making you feel good? You like when I play with your nipples for everyone to see?” You knew the only person who could see was Bucky, but that didn’t stop the zing of pleasure rocketing down to your core. 

“How’s our girl looking, Buck? You wish these were your hands rubbing our sweet girl’s nipples? Maybe, you want your mouth on them? Making our girl moan your name instead of mine?” Oh, Steve’s going to get it. You missed Bucky’s hands tightening on the steering wheel and him taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, again. He’ll make you kiss his swollen lips later.

 Steve laughed at his growling before taking your nipples between his middle and index fingers, rolling the bud back and forth. Your soft moans were filling the car, making Bucky’s cock press up against the seam of his jeans. He faced forward, wanting to get out of this traffic as soon as possible. 

Steve returned to biting your neck, leaving “his” side of your neck free of bites. He enjoyed teasing Bucky but he wasn’t cruel, he’ll leave a side blank for his best friend to mark. He’s generous like that.

Steve switched between rolling and plucking your nipples, making your core throb. Your panties were soaked and Steve knew it. “How wet is your pussy, baby? Tell me before I find out myself. Tell Bucky how wet I made you by just touching your pretty little nipples.” Your face and core were on fire. You bit your lip and pouted up at Steve who smiled and cocked an eyebrow. You pushed your hips up into the hand still resting on your waist and whined.  Steve tsked, “Tell us how wet you are, or I’m not touching you.”

“Steveee” you whined again.

“Listen to him, darling” came from the front of the car. Bucky wasn’t watching any more. Traffic was starting to creep forward, taking all his attention, but the only thing on his mind was how good your whiny mouth feels wrapped around his cock. 

“I’m so w-wet for you, Stevie. Please, please touch me.” You hoped you said it loud enough for both men to hear and you guess you did because Steve’s hand ventured into the waist of your shorts and rested over your pussy. Steve’s hand cupped your pussy and ground the heel of his hand into your clit, making you jerk. You cursed the barrier of your panties between your pussy and his hand. “God, Bucky. Her panties are soaked, she’s dripping down to the seat.” 

“Yeah? I’m going to make you lick it up if you make her mess up the seats.”

You shivered at the visual of Steve on his knees on the floorboard of the car with Bucky’s hand woven into his hair to hold his head to the upholstery of the seats, making him lick up everything you gave him. Bucky echoed your moan with a laugh and another curse to the traffic. 

Steve pushed your panties to the side and traced a finger along your outer lips, not yet breaching into the wetness. “He still sounds tense, baby, you think if I make you cum, he’ll loosen up?” No, you really didn’t think that would help Bucky but it would sure help you, so you nodded your head anyway. Steve chuckled and tapped his finger against your clit. You jumped and moaned, Steve mimicking your moan as your ass grinded back against his now steel hard cock. You could tell the bastard left his underwear in his suitcase from how much you felt of him through his grey sweats. 

Steve circled the tip of his middle finger around your clit, grinding harder and harder into it but keeping his pace slow. When he reached the point in almost hurting you from pressure, he swirled his finger in the opposite direction, lightening his touch with every circle, driving you insane. He repeated the pattern until you stopped caring who heard your moans. Your head was back against his shoulder and every moan and whimper was going straight to his cock. Steve didn’t know if he was going to make you cum first or if you were going to make him cum first. 

When his cock gave a particularly hard twitch, he stopped his motion on your clit, making you let out a big whine. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, I’ll make you cum- don’t worry. But first, ask Bucky how I should make you cum.” It took you a second to process the command after Steve brought you so close to the edge of completion then took it away. He pinched your nipple and, yep, that cleared the fog. 

You lifted your head from Steve’s shoulder to look at Bucky’s profile. He was white knuckling the steering wheel with his metal hand and his right hand was gripping his thigh so close to where he needed you the most. Your mind was clouded with the nights you got on your knees for him, sucked him off until he couldn’t say his own name. God, what you wouldn’t do to taste both of them right now… 

Another pinch of your nipple sent a sharp moan from your mouth and you watched as Bucky readjusted himself and rolled his neck around to relieve tension. When you spoke up, your voice was small and whiney. 

“B-bucky?” You whimpered and you watched Bucky take a deep breath in. “Yes, doll?” His voice was husky and straight sin. Your core clinched just hearing how affected he was from something he couldn’t even see. 

“Can, um, can Steve make me cu-aH!” Steve stopped you mid sentence with a slap to your nipple. “I didn't say to ask permission, baby. He’s not in charge right now. I said to ask how I should make you come.” 

“S-sorry” you whined, “Buck, h-how should Steve make me cum?” You bit out. Bucky took a deep breath and you watched his hand give himself a squeeze. Those jeans must be killing him. He cleared his throat before speaking, “Steve, make her squirt.” 

You felt Steve grin, that little menace. They’ve never made you squirt before, but it was the motion they do with their hands that is enough for you. Steve slipped his hand further down your pussy until he reached your soaking entrance. He pushed his middle finger in as deep as it could go at this angle and you clinched down hard. “God damn, baby. You gotta let me in. Fuck, I wanna bury my cock into your pussy so bad already.” Steve moaned into your neck. His cock twitched against your lower back and you pushed back into it. Steve groaned and grinded up. “I didn’t say to make yourself come, jerk.” Bucky huffed from the front and if Steve wasn’t pressing against your g-spot with every thrust of his finger, you would have giggled. 

But Steve is currently taking all your breath away with a single finger. His thumb has joined in by circling your clit every time his middle finger pushed back into you. The pace was slow but overwhelming. You were getting off on Steve’s finger, his moans, and knowing Bucky was listening to every single thing happening. 

“Steve, baby, fuck mee” you whimpered as you clinched around his finger.

Steve felt you clinching harder and faster. He sucked a hickey right below your right ear and inserted his ring finger. He’s missing the rings that usually dons that hand, unfortunately, but once Steve starts the come hither motion, all thoughts are ripped from your mind. You really can’t tell how loud you're being with the sound of blood rushing through your ears, but Steve seems to be enjoying it. He hasn’t stopped grinding his cock into the top of your ass this whole time and he’s starting to sound like he’s close.

“Fuck, baby-princess. You’re gonna make me- fuck- cum, sweetheart. Are you close?” His hot breath was tickling your neck as he moaned. You could feel it. The orgasm creeping into your core. It came quickly after being so pent up. You ground your hips up into his fingers and back into his cock. His fingers barely left you empty with the speed they were thrusting in and out of your pussy. 

The slick sounds coming from your pussy were going straight to Bucky’s cock, which he was now basically jerking off over his pants, a sight he knows you’ll be sad to miss. Bucky could see traffic beginning to move steadily up ahead but they were still miles deep. He’s just praying he can make it to the cabin before blowing his load. He hopes Steve will have to sit in his own cum for the rest of the trip as punishment for making him listen.

Steve was now using his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit and it was all over then. You core clinched around Steve’s fingers as your relief washed over you. His fingers kept a steady pressure on your spot and worked you through your orgasm. You moaned and whimpered in his neck.

You were starting to come back down, your legs still shaking when you felt Steve pick up the pace against your back.

“Fuck, baby, please please help me come. ‘m so hard for you, I can’t take it anymore-fuck- ‘m going to blow right here, princess” Steve was a mess behind you, gripping your waist tightly as he used your ass to get off. You hoped there were bruises there tomorrow so you could make him kiss it better.

You reached up and behind you so your fingers could tangle into the hairs at the nape of his neck. You tugged lightly, earning a whine from Steve. You would be surprised if his trusts weren’t rocking the car.

“Come for me Stevie.”

Steve groaned loudly and he trusted his cock against you two more times before he came, arms holding you to his body. He whined and moaned into your ear until he finally calmed down. You stoked the back of his head, fingers running through his blonde hair as he came down. You dotted kisses along his cheek and neck. 

Steve groaned and squeezed you in a hug, “Thank you, princess.” You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. You opened your eyes and looked out the window behind Steve and saw the world flying by. You gasped and looked at Bucky, who was now driving freely and too far over the speed limit. The GPS on the center dash now read less than two hours until you reached paradise. 

You kissed Steve then leaned up and kissed Bucky on the cheek and made eye contact with him through the rearview mirror. His eyes were blown and he was still breathing deeply but he smiled at you. “I’m okay, doll, just wait until I have Steve at the cabin.” He smirked and you heard Steve cough after choking on his spit. You laughed and fixed your clothes. Steve adjusted himself in the seat to a more normal position and you settled yourself in the middle, tucked against his side. You watched the world travel by, before closing your eyes to get some rest. You fell asleep, listening to Bucky griping about Steve marking the wrong side of your neck and Steve running his hand up and down the length of your back. 

[rosenclaws]

I See the Light || DOFP!Logan x Reader

Summary: Logan saved the future but now he doesn't feel like he fits into the mansion anymore. He doesn't know what he needs but he just knows he needs a break. So Charles sends him on a mission that changes his whole world.

warnings: fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), abusive parents (Not descriptive), injury, reader deals with a jerk and logan saves the day, swearing

wc: 6k

a/n: Sooo I might have fucked around and wrote 6k words today. This is my entry for @princessanglophile birthday writing challenge! I was given dofp logan and I see the Light from Tangled. I was so so excited to get this song as its one of my favorite disney songs and I'm so happy that I was able to finally get the story that's been in my head in writing. This fic very very loosely follows the plot of tangled but only in a few ways. I really hope it lives up to the song and I was able to do it justice. Enjoy!!

If there was one word to describe how Logan felt after coming back from 1973. It would be lost. He wouldn't say it himself, in fact he'd insist he was just fine. I mean the plan worked, he went back and he saved everyone. Who wouldn't be thrilled to come back to a peaceful world?

But in doing so Logan sacrificed everything. His friends, his family, they don't remember him.

They only know this timeline version of Logan. So now he's a stranger to them and they're strangers to him. He wakes up and teaches his classes but he doesn't know these students.

He sees Rouge and Bobby and he can't help but think of the timeline where Rogue took the cure and lost all her powers. Seeing Kitty all grown up and teaching the new generation of mutants. Storm being the leader he always knew she could be. And of course. Jean. She was alive in this world and so was Scott. It had been years since he saw them.

He doesn't know how to feel. He's found and lost those closest to him. After all of this, he just needs a break. To find himself and learn to stop fighting. He doesn't have to anymore but the rest of him hasn't caught up with that sentiment.

"Logan, I have a mission for you." Charles has called him into his office. He can sense Logan's unease and despite helping him regain some memory from this timeline he knows that Logan is struggling.

"While this world is not as violent as you remember, there are a few anti mutant sentiments still lingering throughout the country." He hands Logan manilla folder.

"She's been raised her whole life in hiding. Her parents forced her at a young age. You need to find her and bring her back.

"And exactly how am I going to do that? If she's in hiding?" Logan asks, flipping through the little information he's been giving.

"Don't tell me you've lost your touch." Charles says with a smirk. Logan shuts the folder and tosses it back at Charles.

"Give me a week."

"This will be good for you Logan. Be patient with her." Logan nods and turns his back to leave.

"One more thing, Take your time Logan." Charles gives him a look that Logan doesn't quite understand and just nods.

After throwing a few things into a backpack he slings it over his shoulder and silently weaves through the mansion. He sees a few people in the kitchen, laughing over cups of coffee and stories of their students. His heart tugs as he looks away, he has a mission to complete.

He doesn't even say goodbye.

Swiping Scotts keys he hops into one of the many cars in the garage. The only information Charles really had was that she was located across the country.

For days Logan drives through the mountains and plains of America. It's a little weird to be honest. He remembers the world turning to a complete wasteland. Nothing but death and destruction. He never once looked at a field of grass while driving down the interstate and thought anything but how boring the view was. Now things are a little different.

After hopping from shitty motels and diners with sweet waitresses and heart stopping food he finally makes it to where Charles said you were. It's a small beach down on the coast of California. Of all the places to be trapped this isn't the worst he thinks as he parks his car at some motel.

The front desk worker barely paid attention as he handed Logan the keys to his room and a brochure of everything the town had to offer. Which was two restaurants and the beach. Realistically he knows you wouldn't be anywhere in town. Too many people. Probably somewhere on the outskirts of town. He slips into a bar, ordering a glass of whiskey and pokes around. Asking the already drunk locals about the weird parts of town. Any strange people.

After some teeth pulling conversations with a woman who was clearly trying to get in his pants, he manages to get information about this house on top of a hill about five miles out of town. How the kids think it's haunted and only a lone woman lives there. The windows are boarded and a wire fence blocks any trespassers.

Bingo.

Apparently the woman leaves every three days at dawn and doesn't return until night and luckily for him she should be leaving tomorrow morning.

With a cigar in hand Logan stares out at the ocean, he doesn't know what time it is but he knows he can't sleep. His dreams are still plagued with watching his friends die. He just can't shake them off, even if that's not how things are anymore.

At the first sight of light peeking over the horizon he hops into his car and drives towards the lone cabin. He ditches the car about two miles in and walks the rest of the way. The sky is painted pinks and purples as he reaches the small cabin.

He catches two unfamiliar scents as he nears. One makes his eyes water, it's rotten. The other is much sweeter, like fresh flowers and honey. The door opens and Logan jumps behind a tree. The sound of footsteps and a car ring loud in his ears. He moves like an animal as he blends himself in with the foliage.

Once the car is gone he hurries past the fence. Cutting through it with ease and making his way into the cabin. He doesn't see anything as he enters. The lights are turned off and everything seems in order.

"Hello?" He calls into the dark house. His nose twitches as that floral scent invades his nose again. He closes his eyes and his hearing zones in on a heartbeat. It's beating faster and faster.

His eyes snap open and he turns around, grabbing your wrist that was inches above his back. In your hand was a crude excuse for a knife. Your eyes are wide and full of fear, your hands trembling in his grasp.

"There you are kid," Logan plucks the knife from hand with no fight and tosses it onto the counter.

"W-Who are you?" You try and tug your wrist away but he's too strong.

"Logan. Now I'm here to get you out of this place." He expects this, fear or uncertainty is common. But you he's never had someone try and attack him before. He wonders what your powers are.

"No." You say making Logan raise an eyebrow.

"I can't leave. She said they'd hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He lets go of your wrist and you slink back to the corner of the room. He wonders just want your mother has told you. He sighs and sits down on one of the dining room chairs.

The look on his face makes you shiver. He's so. Intense. No smile, no soft words. Like he could careless if you went with him or not.

"Why did they send you?" You ask and Logan just shrugs.

"I'm a people person." He says in a deadpan voice. You don't say anything back and Logan slowly lets his so called "angry" face shift to something else. You're probably scared and he's not great with people but he does want to help.

"Look I don't know what she told you, but I can promise that you don't deserve to be locked up from the world." He says and you lower your head.

"I know you're scared, but I'm just like you." He unsheathes his claws making you jump.

"There's this place, a home for people like us where we can be safe and you can learn to control whatever powers you have." You look down at your hands. Still uncertain about all of this.

Your mother had kept you here your whole life, forcing you to never use your powers. Telling you that the world hates what you are and to be lucky she hasn't fed you to the wolves already. Honestly you don't know why she keeps you around, but its true. You can't protect yourself from whatever is out there.

But this man, Logan. He seems like he's taken care of himself just fine. Not a single scratch on him. Maybe he can protect you too.

Your heart has longed for so much more than whatever this life has been so far. The books you read don't hold a candle to the real thing. Could he really take you to a place that's safe.

"Come with me and if you don't want it, if you don't like it. I'll take you back home." He offers, seeing the swirling emotions in your eyes.

"Promise?" You ask softly.

"Promise." Logan sticks his hand out. You glance down at it. It feels too good to be true but this could be your chance to leave this house, to be yourself. But your mother? Honestly, she'd be happy with you gone. Would she come after you or rejoice that her one problem is gone?

Guess you'll have to find out. You reach out and take Logan's hand, hoping you didn't just make a big mistake.

Logan doesn't waste much time heading back home. He takes you back to the motel and tells you to wait in the car while he packs his stuff and checks you. You've never been in a car before. Of course you knew what they were but being inside one was different.

Curiosity gets the best of you as you open every compartment and press every button you can see. You press something the car makes a noise making you jump. You press it again and again before Logan pulls the door open.

"Hey, quit fucking with the horn." He grumbles as gets into the drivers seat.

"Sorry." You apologize, putting your hands in your lap and looking down at them.

You're silent for a while. Not moving, not speaking a word. Logan keeps sneaking glances at you, guilt slowly building as you don't even look out the window.

When Charles said you were sheltered, he didn't realize you were this sheltered. He thinks back to what Charles said before he left. Patience. He's still working on that one.

"I didn't mean to snap at you." Logan says making you look up at him. Your head tilting in confusion.

"You really never been in a car?" He asks as he turns his attention back to the road.

"No, my parents wouldn't let me. I had to stay inside. I couldn't leave." You say quietly.

"You were pressing on the horn, you don't want to use it often. Only to get someone's attention or when someone's being a jackass." You nod your head, watching the other cars driving.

Suddenly Logan swears as a car cuts too close in front of him. He slams his hand on the horn and swerves around the car. He speeds up, glaring at the driver and throwing up his claws in a threatening manner.

"Like that?" You ask. Logan looks at you and lets out a small laugh.

"Yeah, like that."

He drives a little while longer before stopping for gas. He hands you a twenty and tells you to grab some snacks as he fiddles with the machine. You're too shy to tell him you've never been in a store before so you take the money and head in.

It's like a wonderland of sweets and food. You're mom didn't let you have anything like this. In fact she never even told you about half the things on the shelves. You had read about candy and soda in the books she'd bring you but that was it.

You grab anything you can carry. You're too wrapped up in the overwhelming options that you don't see the man in front of you. You bump into him and send both of your things to the ground. The drink in his hand spilling onto his shirt.

"I'm so sorry!" You squeak as you the man turns around and glares at you.

"Watch where you're fucking going." He snaps making your eyes widen.

You reach down and try to pick up the fallen items but he grabs onto your wrist. This isn't the same as when Logan did it. Logan was firm but gentle while this man was angry.

"You're hurting me." You try tugging yourself free but its no use. The mans grip tightens on your wrist. Suddenly the man is ripped away from you and thrown onto the ground.

"Get the fuck off her!" Logan growls. He stands tall above the man, a pissed off look on his face.

"She ran into me!" The man scrambles to his feet, trying to puff his chest out to stand toe to toe with Logan but it's a feeble attempt.

"Stupid bitch." Logan grabs onto his shirt and slams him into the shelf, uncaring if things fall.

"Listen here bub, you get the fuck out of here and take your cheap gas station coffee with you." Logan lets go of him and grabs the coffee cup.

Slamming it into his chest with force. You watch, afraid to even move as Logan pushes the man out of his way. He scrambles out the door, yelling something that you can't quite understand. Logan turns to you and your eyes start to well with tears.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to cause all this I-"

"Hey, stop crying." Logan grabs your arms and waits for you to calm down. "It was an accident. That asshole isn't worth crying over alright?" He grabs all he fallen snacks and brings them to the counter.

The poor cashier couldn't even look Logan in the eye as he pays. Too afraid Logan might beat him up too. He hands you the bag of snacks and grabs a few cigars too.

"You really like sugar don't you?" He jokes as he sees the amount of sugary items in the bag.

"I've never had it before." You admit as you dig through the bag and find something small.

Chocolate.

You dreamed of tasting it for the first time. You rip open the wrapper and bite into it. Wolfing it down in seconds. Logan chuckles, seeing the brightness in your eyes as you taste it for the first time.

"Pretty good huh sweetheart." He reaches over and takes your chin in his hand.

You drop whatever's in your hand, a sudden feeling of...you don't what to call it. Your stomach flutters as he wipes some chocolate off the side of your lips. Your heart starts to beat faster when you see him smile, his eyes turning soft. Palms sweaty and for some reason you don't think you can even look at him right now.

He lets go of you and turns back to the road without a second thought, like he didn't just cause this kind of reaction in you. You hug the bag of sweets and stare out at the road. Trying to calm your beating heart.

Night falls and Logan is still driving, he could drive for a while if he had to but he sees you asleep off out of the corner of his eye. He pulls of the highway and into the parking lot of a motel. He leaves you asleep in the passenger seat reluctantly, checking every couple seconds as he books a room.

When he comes back you're still sound asleep. You look so peaceful, a smile on your face and he wonders what you're dreaming about.

Candy wrappers sit on the floor the car but he just leaves them be. He did have to cut you off after about three kit kats, not wanting you to give yourself a stomach ache.

Seeing someone try flavored chips and processed candy for the first time was amusing. Seeing your face light up with each bite. You were just so, optimistic. He doesn't really know how. He expected you to be angry, jaded, afraid and meek from being locked away for so long. But instead you're full of wonder and curiosity.

You almost gave him a heart attack when you saw a cow for the first time. You slammed your hands on the window and you screamed in excitement. Pictures didn't do them justice, they were just too cute. Things that other people take for granted every day, you saw as new and wonderful.

He opens the car door and scoops you up in arms. Trying not to wake you as he makes his way into the room. Placing you on one of the beds.

"Hm?" You mumble as you sit up, the jostling having woken you.

"Sorry, tried not to wake you. We're stopping for the night go back to sleep." Logan whispers, laying a blanket over you.

"Okay..." Logan takes a sharp breath when he sees your wrist. The one that man from earlier had grabbed on to. You paid no mind to it as you roll over on your side, snuggling the warm blanket.

"Hey, we need to get this checked out." He gently grabs your wrist but you shoo him away.

"M'fine, it doesn't hurt." You say but he doesn't budge.

"Still, it looks like a nasty bruise is forming." You bat away his hand and cover your wrist with your other hand. Logan's jaw drops as your hair starts to glow. He scrambles back as the it shines brightly and then slowly fades away. When you move your hand your wrist is completely back to normal. No bruising to be seen.

"What the?" He looks at you in shock.

"My powers, I don't really know why but the hair glow seems to be apart of it." You rest your head back into the pillows.

"Why would your parents ever want you to hide this?" He asks in disbelief, your powers weren't ones of destruction but of healing.

A sad looks appears on your face and he doesn't ask any more questions. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Get some rest, we'll keep going in the morning." Your eyes close and sleep comes quicker than it has in a long time, Logan's presence lulling you into a feeling of safety.

The morning light shines right in your eyes as you wake to the sound of snoring. You groan as you roll over onto your back. As the world comes into focus you expect to find yourself staring at the cold wood ceiling you've woken up to every day of your life. But you don't.

You shoot straight up in bed seeing the motel décor and Logan asleep on his bed. He's sprawled out on his stomach, shirtless. His hair is still somehow in the same shape as it always sits. The gray streak in his hair matches with the slight graying of his beard. You feel that fluttering sensation in your stomach as you look at him. You want to look away but you can't. His face has that grumpy look on it, even in his sleep. You giggle as you see some drool on his pillow. You lay back down on your pillow, turning to face Logan. Is it creepy to watch someone sleep? Probably, but you wouldn't mind if Logan watched you sleep.

The only man you had ever known before was your father. When he left your mother grew bitter and angry. Neither of them liked your mutant powers but your mother really hated them. You never really understood why. You could help so many people but she refused.

She would tell you that people lead to nothing but trouble. That everyone was cruel and selfish. That love of any kind wasn't real. But some nights you'd sneak into her study and take on of the many books on the shelves.

Stories of romance , adventure, a knight in shining armor. Despite what your mother said to you, those books kept your fantasies of love alive. You just haven't experienced for yourself let. Could that be the silly feeling in your stomach?

I mean, Logan did come in and rescue you. He wasn't wearing armor or riding a horse, instead he showed up in a blue car and a leather jacket. He didn't slay a dragon but he did threaten that one guy at the gas station. You hear him stir, his eyes opening as he groans and shoves a pillow over his eyes so the sun stops hitting him.

You quickly turn on your other side, pretending to be asleep. Would Logan even want to be with someone like you? He's on a mission to bring you back to his home. This is just a mission for him.

Right?

The week deadline Logan gave Charles has gone out the window. It's been far longer as the two of you drive into a new state. Truth be told Logan has been enjoying being away from the mansion. There's no pressure to be anyone but who he is out here.

You don't know anything about his past, or who he was before he came back. You're bright eyed and curious. You had become more and more comfortable around him. You didn't care if he could shoot claws through his knuckles, you trusted him completely.

Now every time you saw something new you begged him to stop. He pretended to be annoyed, making some comment about how he doesn't have the money for all this damn gas. But he can't say no to you. Despite being locked away for so long you seem to have perfected your puppy dog eyes in a matter of days.

In some weird way, watching you discover the world has made him find some joy in life that he's been missing. Logan has always been a glass half empty person if you will and you were so full that some of it was spilling into Logan's glass. He learned that you weren't completely clueless but there were a lot of things that you had never experienced for yourself. Being told stories could only do so much.

You're leaning against the window of the car humming a song on the radio. You really love the radio. In the cupholder sits a water bottle that had been cut in half and filled with dirt and flowers. You had asked him to pull over while passing this field of flowers. He leaned against the car as you took your time admiring them all.

Laying down in the grass and staring at the blue sky. You had called him over and he stood above you, a smile on his face as you held out your hand.

"I don't frolic in flowers sweetheart." Still he let you lay and watch the wind blow the clouds, pointing out the ones that looked a little funny. By the time you got back in his car you had dirt on your clothes and the biggest smile on your face.

You handed him a little handful of daisies. You could barely look at him as you gave them to him, telling him they were a thank you. Those cute little flowers are now living in a cupholder but he likes being reminded of that day.

"Woah! Logan what's that?!" You sit up and point out the window. To your right was a massive wheel and tents and lots of cars.

"Must be a fair or something." He says.

"What's that?"

"It's like a big party I guess. There's greasy food and games and rides." He points towards the big wheel.

"Can we go?" You beg, this is the fourth time today you've asked him to stop and at this rate you won't get back to the mansion by next month. But Logan pulls off the freeway anyways.

The parking lot is uneven ground and you stumble as you try and step in the right spots. Logan just laughs, holding out his arm for you. Shyly you wrap your hands around his big biceps. The bright lights and smells overwhelm you as you step through the gates.

People all around you are laughing and enjoying themselves. You see kids running past trying to get to the next ride, people eating delicious smelling food, bells and whistles literally ringing in your ears from the different game booths.

"Too much?" Logan asks, pulling you to the side.

"No, it's just. I've never seen so many happy people all in one place." You admit. It was an contagious feeling, you wanted to explore everything. and be as happy as the people around you.

Logan takes you through the fair, not letting you go for a moment. He lets you play those rigged fair games for that teddy bear he could easily buy at some second hand store. But you want it so he pays the money. He does end up taking the last shot for you, using all his strength to knock down those damn bottles. Which he does but he also rips a whole in the tent and the tent behind it.

Oops. But you have that teddy bear now.

"I'm going to get us some food, you stay right here got it? No wandering." You nod as you sit on the wooden bench.

You're holding onto the bear waiting for him to come back when you hear someone crying. Through the noise of the fair you can pin point the quiet sobs. You know Logan told you to stay put but you can't ignore the cries. You get up and look around for the source, ducking behind one of the tents to see a little girl on the ground. She has tears streaming down her face clutching her knee.

"What's wrong?" You ask softly as you approach her. She looks scared and you try not to make things worse.

"I fell and hurt my knee and now I can't find my parents." She sniffs, wiping her eyes.

"Can I see your knee, I can help I promise." She looks unsure and so you take the teddy bear Logan won for you and hand it to her.

"This is Mr. Bear, he's a friend." She reaches out and takes him, petting his fluffy head and letting you get closer.

She hugs him tight as you gently rest your hands over her knee. Closing your eyes you hear her gasp as your hair starts to glow. When you open your eyes again her knee is healed. She stares at you in awe.

"You're magic!" She squeals as she stands up, her energy coming back in full force.

"I guess," She jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly. Suddenly she perks up, the frantic voice of an adult calling her name.

"That's my mommy, I should go." She hands you back Mr. Bear but you tell her to keep it.

She runs off to her mom and through the gaps of the tents you see her run into her arms. Her mom overjoyed at finding her again. Your heart sinks just a little, your own mother clawing her way back into your mind. Does she miss you? Did she even notice you were gone? You hear a tent rip and you turn around to see Logan pushing through the fabric. A panicked look on his face.

"Fuck! There you are." He grabs your arm and pulls you back out into the fair.

"I told you to stay put!" He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry...This little girl, she was hurt and I wanted to help." You wrap your arms around your body, afraid that Logan would be upset at you forever. He looks around and sees a familiar looking bear in a little girls hand. She was talking animatedly to her mother. He can pick up a few words. Magic, healing.

"That was dangerous to do sweetheart, you don't know what kind of people are out here." The worry in his chest isn't going anywhere as he sits down on the bench.

The fear that overtook him when he saw you were gone, fuck he hasn't felt that in a long time. His mind going to the worst places as he frantically searched for you.

"I know, I just couldn't leave her there." You say.

The truth is you had forgotten what the world was like to people like you. Your mother fed you lies for years about how horrible people were to those like you. Mutants. But for some reason when you're with Logan you feel safe. You feel like nothing can hurt you with him around. He's completely flipped your life upside down and you've loved every second. So for a moment you didn't even think of the danger of using your powers out in public. Not when you had Logan.

To your shock Logan pulls you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you tightly. You're here, you're okay. He tells himself. He can't fight it anymore, this feeling inside of him. Somethin in him has changed and it's all your fault.

He lets go far too soon your liking. Not saying a word as he hands you some food. You eat in silence, your knee bouncing up and down as you keep glancing at Logan.

"You don't like it?" He asks seeing how you've barely touched it.

"No no I do, I just...I guess I'm not that hungry." You push the tray of food back to Logan and he just sighs.

"Come on, I want to show you something." He stands up and holds out his hand.

Silently you let him lead you through the crowds until you've gone past the games and the food. Your jaw drops as you see the big wheel come into view. All of your worries are forgotten as you run towards it, Logan following close behind.

"Get in sweetheart, I'll be right there." You see him whisper something to the ride operator and hand him something before getting in next to you. You yelp as it starts to move. Slamming your back against the metal of the seat.

"It's okay, I got you." Logan lifts his arm and puts it around you, letting you stick to his side as the cart goes higher and higher.

You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest as you feel yourself getting higher up in the sky. A loud pop makes you screech and slide closer to Logan. He chuckles and gently tilts your head up to look at him.

"Check it out sweetheart, got the best view in the house." You slowly move your face to see big bright colors in the air. You let go of Logan and grab onto the metal bar. Leaning over it as you watch the bright colors shoot through the sky.

"Fireworks." You say breathlessly.

Every year the small city near by would launch these into the sky. Your mother always forced you to bed before night fall but you had your ways and would sneak all the way to the attic. Watching through the tiny window. You could only ever catch a glimpse but it was the highlight of your year, now here they are right in front of you.

"They're beautiful."

Red, Orange, Blue shimmers of light just light up the whole sky. The sky rumbles from the loud booms and the soft fizzles. You rest your head in your hands, utterly mesmerized by the scene in front of you.

Logan has seen a lot of fireworks in his day but these just might be his favorite. They're nothing special. Maybe a little bigger than he's scene before. But these are the ones to bring a smile to your face. You haven't stopped smiling since the show started. He wanted you as close as you could get and what better place than the top of the Ferris wheel.

There's colors lighting up the sky but his eyes are on you. He just can't help himself. Seeing you so happy, so at peace. It's all he wants. His own heart beats a little faster when you look back at him. Nothing but pure joy in that pretty smile.

"Gorgeous." He whispers. You look down at your lap, fighting the fluttering in your stomach.

"Thank you, for everything Logan. For showing me the world, for...for just being you." You don't think you could ever repay what Logan has done for you.

Everything feels so different now but it's a good different. The kind of different that makes you want to dig deeper to see just what has changed.

"I owe you more than you know sweetheart," Logan's rough hand covers yours. He gently takes lifts it off the metal bar and interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing it gently.

"You asked when we first met why they sent me to come get you." His other hand reaches to cup your face. There's nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as he tilts your head up.

"The truth is I was lost." He doesn't want to spill everything but he needs to know what this whole trip, what you mean to him.

"The past couple of months it feels like I've been drowning, like I couldn't breathe. Until I met you. You look at the world with an optimism I haven't scene in so long. It's infectious. You're infectious."

"Is that a good thing?" You whisper, afraid to even move in fear of ruining this moment.

"Depends, I'm an old man sweetheart. If you don't mind that, if you don't mind me." He knows that he may not be the kind of person you've dreamed of. He's not exactly out of a storybook now is he?

"Logan...All I've known is the inside of that house. I didn't know what was out here," You glance back at the fireworks, at the people below you watching and laughing.

"But you showed me just what I've been missing and I could never thank you enough. I don't know why you felt so lost, but I'm glad it led you to me." Everything just feels right, your heart beating in time with his as he leans in.

Capturing your lips in a soft kiss. Now you don't know if the fireworks are in your head or if they're still going. You can't focus on anything but the feeling of his lips on yours. Both his hands now cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. Chasing after the fresh air that he's longed to breathe.

You reach up and tug on his jacket. Needing him closer to you. This, this is more than you could ever imagine. The stories don't do it justice. Words on paper could never have prepared you for this. For the feeling of his hands on your skin, the movement of his lips, the soft noises, the scent of cigars and honey, the desperation behind every single thing he does.

It couldn't have prepared you for the overwhelming flood of emotions swirling through your heart. It's brand new and you never wanted to it to end. It feels like an eternity passes by the time Logan finally pulls back, his lips still so close to yours. His chest rises and falls slowly. Maybe it's just the fair lights but you swear you see the red creeping up his face.

"What are you looking at?" You ask shyly. A giggle bubbling in your chest as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Just wondering how I got so lucky." He says sincerely. Seriously how? Maybe this was the worlds way of thanking him, for forgiving him for the sins of his past.

"I think I'm the lucky one." You kiss his wrist, resting your hand on his arm.

The ferris wheel lurches back into motion taking you both off guard. Logan grabs onto you quickly, pulling you into his chest as you slowly move back down to the ground.

It's like everyone else fades to the background as Logan guides you through the crowd. You're very aware of his hand in yours. You don't ever want to let go. But the fair has come to an end and it's time to leave. Though you don't think you'll ever forget today.

"Do we have to go back to New York already?" You ask as you rest your head against the car window.

"There's still so much I want to see." So much you want to see with Logan.

Logan taps on the steering wheel, he knows he'll have to return to the mansion eventually but he looks over and sees those pleading eyes.

"I don't think they're missing me too much, maybe a little longer." Your eyes light up and he just shakes his head, a smile on his face. Man is he fucked.

I'll be home soon Charles, if you can hear me.

As Logan pulls out of the parking lot he thinks back to what he was told before leaving. Take your time. Well he never specified just how much time. In fact, a small cabin up in Canada doesn't sound too bad right about now. But he'll take you there another day. For now, you have the whole world to explore. He rests his hand on your thigh and pulls out onto the freeway.

"So sweetheart, where do you want to go next?"

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

Silly little ask! Where do u think the Earth Lanterns would sit in a car for like a road trip of something? Dont ask me why they are on a road trip maybe they are bonding idk-

My first thought was to wonder if the Lanternfam could all fit in one car, but apparently there are passenger vans with 10+ seats. Some of them are really fancy, like this one with swivel chairs, couches that fold out into a bed, and an actual bathroom:

Now, I don't think they'd buy one of these monstrosities. They probably got a normal passenger van to start with. But Simon has too much time on his hands and knows where to get good car parts. So the interior eventually looks like the above image anyway, minus the bathroom. He's put more modifications in, but he swears the vehicle is still road legal. Probably. Just ignore the extra buttons and the fact that the speedometer goes up to 500 mph...

Hal calls it the Interceptor II, naming it after the spaceship he rode around the universe with Kilowog, Razer, and Aya. Everyone else calls it the Big Van.

Even though he did all the renovations, Simon isn't the one driving. Mainly because he's a speed demon who's likely to get them pulled over. Similarly, Guy tends to cuss out drivers who are too slow or don't use their blinkers. So while they do occasionally take a turn at the wheel, it's usually on the long and mostly empty interstate highways.

Hal and Jessica have expired licenses, and Kyle never had one to begin with. Jo is spoiled by New York's public transportation system and has never driven longer than half an hour. And Keli is obviously too young (and short- her feet don't even reach the pedals), despite her insistence that Jinny Hex taught her how to drive.

So driving duty usually falls to John and Carol. Whichever one of them isn't behind the wheel is usually in the passenger seat and thus in charge of navigation and music. Even though Simon says the autopilot function is safe, neither of them are in any hurry to test that.

The two swivel chairs behind them are almost always occupied by Kyle and Jessica. The former likes to look out the window and draw the scenery, while the latter uses the seat's turning capabilities to distribute snacks and film TikTok videos of the others (inspired by @effietrinket1619's Lanternfam TikTok posts)

In the back, you can find Simon and Guy entertaining Keli with video games. Hal's usually asleep but occasionally he'll wake up and tell stories about some of his old adventures. Jo is either listening to audiobooks or reading/writing fanfiction on her phone or laptop. The bench seating means they all have room to spread their legs if they want.

(Even though there's technically room for Alan and his kids, they usually take their own car if they do decide to come on the road trip)

[chloepleasestopdying]

Before I started driving trucks I didn’t think tiny little towns like Haven Springs or Arcadia Bay were like… real places. I lived in Florida my entire life so I kinda thought it was fake.

But no. Haven Springs is based on Idaho Springs in Colorado and, while I’ve never driven directly through there besides on the interstate, it really does just look like that. It’s adorable. Same thing with Arcadia Bay, the North West really does just have that vibe.

The only thing that the LiS games are missing from having extremely accurate locations is the fact there should be like. At least ten coffee shops per town. I once parked in Colorado and there were three coffee huts in my line of sight.

[peachdues]

a little more Kyojuro, for my loves 🤍

@stuckinthewrongworld I apologize in advance, I’ll probably be in your DMs constantly about this one. Same with you, @tearmint

A continuation of the first sneak peek of my new Virgin!cop!Kyojuro x escort/callgirl!Reader fic, teased here

“I have to take you Amane General,” Kyojuro’s voice is gentle and quiet. “It’s protocol.”

Your eyes find his, watching you through his rearview mirror, his own expression that of sorrow. Remorse.

Bitterness creeps up the back of your throat. You loathe pity; you couldn’t stand to see it in the eyes of your newer clients whenever it came time for you to set out the terms of your services. There was always a hint of pity in their eyes, as you explained what you would and wouldn’t do; what their money could and couldn’t buy.

Never was their pity enough to make them walk away; go back to their families, their wives, and spend their fortunes on something worthwhile. It was only ever self-serving; a crumb of penitence that they would turn to later, if for nothing else than to ease their own guilty consciences. They couldn’t be all bad, fumbling for their discarded belts, their ties and suit jackets, if they felt a little bit of pity for the poor girl forced to be their outlet for the night.

By the time they tossed you your earnings and closed the hotel room door, they’d feel markedly lighter. Like they’d done a service, sparing a morsel of concern for some nobody. Besides, they paid well. That alone was enough to offset whatever guilt or shame they felt for dialing your Madam’s number to begin with.

It’s protocol.

Yeah, sure it is. As standard as it was for him to pull you back over the bridge’s ledge. A requirement of his job, not something he did out of any morality of his own. Just business, no different from your dealings with your clientele.

You’ve never cared for their pity, and you sure as hell can’t stand the trace of it in his eyes. You open your mouth, ready to tell him he can take his pity and his fake concern and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, when you realize he hasn’t looked away.

The acid you’d cooked up to spit his way fizzles out in your throat. Pity, as you’d learned, was fleeting. Always subject to conditions, to limitations. Something to be chucked at the suite door, forgotten when it came time to shed clothes.

But not with Kyojuro. Instead, in his gaze remains that same undercurrent of warmth, the one that needled you into placing your hands on his shoulders, and allow him to pull you back from the bridge’s edge. One born of a genuine concern that, by all accounts, wasn’t part of his job description to give.

A kindness you haven’t known in God knows how long.

—

For the better part of an hour, Kyojuro drives and drives. He makes no effort to talk, save the odd comment about some ad on the radio, or the state of the roads. Everything is topical at best; he does not press. He does not demand. He does not expect.

Another twenty minutes pass before you realize he’s driving in circles. The bridge is only six miles or so from Amane Gen. It would’ve taken him under ten minutes to get there in normal traffic, and even less right now, while the City still slept.

He’s dawdling.

You wait until he completes his next circle around the main interstate before you speak. “Protocol, huh?”

Even from the backseat, you can still see part of his profile; how his cheek raises in a smile. “You said you liked watching the sunrise, right?” Kyojuro inclines his head to the left.

You peer out the passenger window. There, just beyond the skyline of the city, the sky has begun to lighten.

A lump forms in your throat. You’d thought he’d asked you to sit on the left hand side of his car so he could keep a better eye on you in his mirror. But here, strapped into the left passenger backseat of his cruiser, he’s given you an unobstructed view of the east.

“Any moment now.” He says. “It’s pretty spectacular from here.”

And it is; before long, the first streak of pink ripples across the horizon, followed by muted hues of orange and purple. Sleepily, the sun begins peaking over the skyline as it gently coats the city of the new light of dawn.

A tear slips down your cheek, but you do not dare look away.

Kyojuro drives his circles until the sun is well over the top of the tallest skyscrapers. Only when the last ray of pale pink and orange fades into the blue or the sky, does he finally take the exit to Amane General.

Neither of you speak; not until an ER nurse brings a wheelchair to roll you back to the examination area, and even then, it’s Kyojuro who bids you a quiet goodbye, his card pressed into your palm.

It’s probably for the best, you decide as you watch his back retreat through the throng of ER attendees. Thank you wouldn’t have been enough, anyway.

[bellaxgiornata]

You're Safe With Me [Chapter Six]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.8k

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of chapters for You're Safe With Me here.]

a/n: Finally we get the next chapter! There's a surprise in this one; can y'all catch it? Things are starting to get even more interesting...and dangerous, maybe. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @lunaticgurly @allaboardthereadingrailroad @linamarr @hollandorks @sleeperthelazy @marcysbear @mattkinsella @mattmurdocksstarlight @xxdrixx @v4leoftears @aoi-targaryen @danzer8705 @anon-cat-posts @heimtathurs @kmc1989 @thepunisherfrankcastle @agirlcandream84 @americaarse @desert-fern @youmakelovinfun @callmebrooklynbabes @jooheoniesdimples

"What are you doing?" you asked in confusion. 

Looking out of the front windshield, you watched as Frank pulled off onto the exit ramp on the side of the interstate. Frowning, you glanced over at him in the driver's seat beside you. He was focused on the road, his face set in his typical flat and stern expression as he drove with one hand on the wheel. His other arm was resting against the window beside him, his hand absently running across the firm set of his lips. 

"Takin' a detour," he replied simply, eyes remaining fixed ahead. 

"A detour to where?" you pressed.

Frank’s attention shifted to you for a moment, his eyes briefly scanning the inquisitive look on your face before his focus returned back to the road. Eyebrows rising up onto your forehead, you impatiently waited for a response of some sort from him–anything at all–but he remained mute. Not even a grunt of acknowledgement. 

With an irritated huff you glanced back out of the windshield, noticing the van was now gradually rolling to a stop at a stop sign. Eyeing the shops and gas stations around the area, you were still confused as to what would make Frank take a sudden detour. You thought he'd said this morning that he was trying to put as much distance between you and what had happened back at that motel you’d been ambushed at the other night as fast as he could. He wanted to make it as difficult as possible for the Patriot Militia to pick back up on your trail.

So what the hell was he doing stopping? It was still a bit before dinnertime and therefore still earlier than when he usually stopped for a motel. A look at the van's gas gauge showed you that the tank was just over half full. If he was stopping for a bathroom break he usually just said so because he always warned you not to 'fuck around,' always eager to just get back on the road.

And really, you couldn't have him stopping. Not here. Not right now. Not after yesterday.

"A detour to where ?" you pressed further.

"To Walmart," he finally answered.

One of your brows quirked up onto your forehead at the simple response. As if a detour to Walmart was the most obvious thing in the world right now while you were driving state to state with the Punisher trying to stay alive. When he predictably didn’t elaborate, you pushed for more information. 

"What's at Walmart?" you questioned.

Frank’s focus remained on the road as he drove, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "You need a phone in case of emergency," he replied, his tone a bit clipped. "And I'm guessin' you need some things since you left your place so quick." He shot you a look over his shoulder as he added, "You don't even have a coat. It's gettin' cold in some of the places we're driving through."

At his response, you sat in the passenger seat completely stunned, entirely forgetting about your current location and the shooting you'd seen on the news last night for the first time today. He was making a detour just for you ? So you could get things you needed because you hadn't had a chance to properly pack before you'd slipped out of your house?  

"You're taking me shopping?" you asked incredulously. 

Frank shot you a firm, stony look as he pulled up to a stoplight. "Let’s get one thing straight right now. I am not taking you shopping, Spunky," he snapped. "It's a Walmart, not a goddamn mall. You're going to quickly grab whatever the hell it is you need while I grab you a prepay. This isn't a fun stop. Got it?"

You nodded, still in shock that Frank was actually taking the time to do this for you, even if Walmart was not the first place you'd want to stop and buy clothes at. But if you were being honest, with the way he'd been treating you so far, you figured you'd be begging him to let you find a laundromat just to wash the few clothing items you had. Yet here he was letting you grab some necessities–and you certainly were going to make sure you grabbed some tampons while you were there. 

The light turned green and Frank continued to drive, turning farther up ahead and navigating his way to the nearby Walmart. Your eyes were staring out of the windshield as your mind raced, quickly trying to make a mental list of everything you needed while attempting to ignore other thoughts. You weren't about to test Frank's patience; you were sure he wasn't kidding about not wanting you to spend a lot of time there so you had to prioritize what you absolutely needed.

A few minutes later he'd pulled the van into a parking spot in the Walmart parking lot, your eyes still glued to the window as you took in the sight of all the other parked cars around you. Frank cut the engine before shifting in his seat, the movement of him reaching towards the center console and grabbing his wallet catching your eye. Wordlessly he opened it, pulling out a stack of bills and counting some out. Folding the stack in half, he held it out towards you and you froze in your seat, eyeing the cash.

"Take it," he ordered. "It's two hundred. Should be more than enough for a coat and a few things. Can't have you usin' a credit card or anything for them to track."

For a moment you just stared at the cash, feeling awkward about taking it but also increasingly aware that it meant you and him would be splitting up inside the store. Nerves shook loose in your stomach as that realization fully hit you, but when he held the cash out further towards you with an irritated grunt, you hesitantly reached out, accepting it from his hand. Though it still felt weird taking the money from him even if he'd told you that this little road trip was being funded by the government. 

"Should probably get yourself a hat and some sunglasses," Frank added. "To help disguise yourself. Might be useful at some point while we're running."

"Okay," you replied softly, mentally adding it to your checklist. 

Frank held your eye, his stare making you a little uncomfortable with how hard it was. Especially with the way your palms had begun to sweat at the thought of him not being right beside you in the store. Ever since he'd tossed you into the back of the van at Ruby’s Diner he hadn't left your side for longer than a quick bathroom break.

"We don't have long," Frank told you. "I'll give you twenty minutes. Get the necessities. Take a piss. Meet me at that exit–" he said, gesturing to the doors nearby, "–in exactly twenty minutes. No later."

"But what if–"

"No later," he reiterated firmly. 

"Alright, Sunshine," you grumbled, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Opening the van door, you slipped out of the seat and onto the pavement, pocketing the cash and carefully surveying the parking lot around you yet again. There were a handful of parked cars–about the amount you'd expect in a small town a little after two in the afternoon on a Monday–but no one was wandering around outside. Though that didn't stop the prickle of fear beginning to form low in your gut as you anxiously hugged your arms around yourself, increasingly becoming more nervous. 

You knew exactly where you were right now. Ever since you and Frank had gotten on the road this morning and left the Happy Lodger Motel, you'd made a point to pay attention to the road signs and read the maps posted at the rest area stops. You were currently on the outskirts of Harrisonburg, Virginia. Which was very near Glen Allen–the place where the shooting had happened just yesterday afternoon. Meaning you were currently very near recent Patriot Militia activity.

And Frank had no idea.

Frank's form appearing around the front of the van startled you, causing you to jump on the spot. His eyes narrowed at you curiously as he paused mid-step. He had clearly caught the way you'd frightened just now. You knew that he'd noticed something had been going on with you today with the way he kept watching you with those perceptive eyes of his. He had asked you a couple of times now if you were alright, but you'd always simply lied and answered yes. He hadn’t said anything past that, but the way he continued to silently stare at you with a look of disbelief on his face was unnerving. It was as if he was waiting for the right time to pull the information out of you. 

Truthfully you knew you probably needed to tell him exactly what was going on because clearly Madani hadn't told him much herself. If there was possible danger nearby, you knew he should be made aware of it. For both your sakes. But Frank was still hard for you to read. Would he think you were far more trouble than you were worth to protect if he knew the full story? If he knew what was actually going on? Is that why Madani hadn't already told him herself? Because as much as you didn't like the killing he did, you had to admit, you'd be dead without him. You needed him. You couldn't have him bolt on you and leave you an unprotected target for an entire militia with members that spanned the countryside.

The thought of you on your own without Frank had your fists curling around the fabric of your shirt, arms hugging your chest a bit tighter. You were too terrified right now to question when your fear of Frank had shifted to a fear of losing him in just a matter of days. 

"You good?" 

Drawn back to the moment, your eyes darted over towards Frank. He was standing there with that hard to read expression on his face, but it felt like he was seeing right through you. He knew you weren't good. But instead of telling him the truth, that fear of him abandoning you to fend for yourself in a Walmart parking lot so close to a place you knew there were militia members, you simply nodded and hummed out an affirmative. Frank's eyes narrowed further, his lips thinning out. You forced a smile onto your mouth, but even you could feel how tense it was.

Without another word, Frank turned and headed towards the entrance of the store. Sucking in a deep breath you followed after him, each step further increasing your panic. By the time the pair of you stepped inside, Frank was gruffly reminding you that you had twenty minutes to meet him back here before he walked off. And then you were alone and fully panicking. 

Ducking your head, you tried to keep your breathing even as you hurried towards your right. You were going to try to focus on why you were here and not on where you were. Attempting to remain calm, you prioritized grabbing tampons first because the thought of asking Frank to stop and let you buy some later was absolutely mortifying. 

For a few minutes you navigated the Walmart, trying to orient yourself and read the aisle signs as you went. The store was massive and all the aisles looming above you felt suffocating right now. Internally you kept repeating the items you needed, listing them off in your head as you tried to ignore the racing of your heart and the way your breath was starting to come in faster each time someone in the store made eye contact with you. 

You wished you could say you felt safe in the semi-busy public place, but you knew better. The Patriot Militia clearly had no qualms with opening fire in public and killing innocent people. The only place you felt safe anymore was at Frank's side. But as your jaw clenched tight, you fought the surge of fear roiling in your stomach at the reminder that Frank wasn't by your side right now.  

Grabbing the box of tampons from the shelf, your hand nearly crushing the side of it with how tight you were holding on to it, you turned and headed back out of the aisle. You needed to find a hat, sunglasses, and a winter coat. If you had time, you'd find a few more clothing items for cold or hot weather. Since you and Frank were going to be all over the country, you knew you needed to be prepared for all types of weather wherever you found yourself with him. 

As you continued your shopping, trying to keep track of the time with a clock that was on the wall just past the registers, you felt that gnawing guilt since watching that news segment last night at the bar return to you. Somehow it crept its way past the fear still holding you in a vice and you suddenly froze, overcome with that guilt that had been steadily chipping away at you all day until it abruptly drowned you in it. Your hand fiercely clutched the hanger of the tee-shirt you were holding, your left arm crushing the other items you had to your chest as the thoughts hit you again all at once.

You'd heard them talking about Glen Allen at the Patriot Militia rally where this whole nightmare had begun. At the time, the city hadn't rung any bells in your mind because nothing had happened there. But you'd told Madani about it and your fears, and you knew she'd obviously heard it mentioned on the recording you'd sent her. But still, the shooting still happened. People had still been injured and killed. The proof of that was on the news last night at the bar you'd been at with Frank. And somehow it felt like it was partially your fault for not doing more to stop it. For not finding a way to warn everyone in Glen Allen or finding a way to stop the shooters ahead of time instead of just running and hiding and saving yourself.

Your hand began to shake, gripping the hanger even tighter in your fist. Your breath was coming in even faster and sharper now than it had when Frank had initially parted ways with you at the store entrance. Eyes closing, you tried to fight the lightheadedness washing over you. But the longer you stood there, guilt and fear mingling together and clawing at your mind as it spiraled further, the more you felt yourself freeze up and your feet root themselves to the floor.

You weren't going to survive this. Eventually these people would find you and kill you. And all the deaths and terror they caused before and after that would partially land at your feet. You were a news anchor, you could have reported this. Tried to stop them somehow. Maybe even told Frank ahead of time and been in Glen Allen and he might have been able to stop them. 

But you'd done nothing instead. 

Your hand tightened so hard around the hanger that you felt it snap in your fist. Feeling like you could barely breathe, your eyes clenched closed tighter as your thoughts continued to spiral further and further, your chest constricting firmly around your lungs and your heart. You were hyperventilating now, having a panic attack in the middle of the Walmart.

Something grasped onto your shoulder and you gasped, eyes flying open. Frank was standing just beside you, concern written clear across his features. Those warm, dark brown eyes of his were boring into you, but instead of fear, you felt relief flood you at the sight of him. 

"C'mon," he urged softly, gesturing his head towards the registers. "Let's get your things and go."

He gently pried the shirt you'd been holding onto–the one you'd snapped the hanger on–from your hands. And then slowly, he carefully took all of the items from you without a word before making his way towards the registers. You followed after him easily, the promise of safety in his presence quickly quelling the panic in your mind as your breathing became less shallow.

Once again you'd wrapped your arms around your chest, nervously hugging yourself as you stood next to Frank. He was focused on ringing up all of the items you’d had, his face expressionless as he used the self-checkout. You were far too relieved that he’d found you when he did to care that he was currently ringing up your box of tampons.

After he’d bagged all of your items into three bags, Frank grabbed them all into one hand before he turned towards you. His left hand reached out, landing on the middle of your back and surprising you with the touch. Gently he began to guide you out of the store without a word, though you knew plenty of them were soon coming. For now you focused on keeping in step with him, surprised to discover yourself relaxing even further underneath that large, warm palm of his on the center of your back. 

It was a minute before you were both back at the van, Frank opening the back doors of it and setting your bags onto the floor of the vehicle. You had significantly calmed down in his presence and under his gentle, reassuring touch by now. Whether Frank had noticed that was unclear because he had quickly focused his attention on a cellphone he had retrieved from one of the bags, typing away on it as he sat down on the edge of the van.

"You gonna tell me what's actually goin' on now?" Frank asked, breaking the silence as he continued to focus on the phone in his hands. "Or you just gonna keep pretending you're alright?"

Exhaling a breath, you leant up against the side of the van opposite him, your eyes continuing to survey the parking lot. Thankfully the pair of you still seemed to be alone. Though you figured Frank was currently more aware of your surroundings than even you were despite it appearing that he was currently distracted. 

"Wondered when you'd push," you whispered.

"Been in your head and jumpy ever since you saw that news story at the bar last night," Frank observed. "That story that upset you and made you want to leave last night." He glanced up from the phone, holding your gaze. "Guessin' that shooting’s got something to do with why you're on the run from this militia. Got me thinkin' there's some things I should probably know that you're not tellin’ me."

Guiltily you focused down on your shoes. Of course he’d picked up on all of that. Frank was smart and perceptive.

 "Madani told you I'm running from the Patriot Militia then?" you asked softly. 

"Said you accidentally stumbled on some information that proves they're a terrorist organization," he replied, attention returning to the phone. "And that there's some big names involved in the mess, too. Making it so she can't trust everyone in Homeland and any other federal departments."

"Yeah," you admitted nervously, looking up at him through your lashes. "That–that shooting on the news last night? That was them. The militia."

Frank's hands momentarily paused what they were doing, his jaw tightening as he glared at the cell phone in his hand. A second later he locked the phone screen, his attention entirely shifting to you now as his hands lowered to his lap. There was a hard set to his eyes, but you could also see the way he was trying to piece things together with that soft furrow between his dark brows. 

"The shooter?" Frank clarified.

"Yeah," you told him with a nod. "Things must not have gone as planned because the shooter was apprehended by police, but he was supposed to be shot by a bystander. Like some of those other shootings going on around the country lately." Feeling your guilt beginning to creep back into your mind, you could feel the sting of tears in your eyes as you continued. "The–the bystanders who shoot the assailants in these mass shootings are also Patriot Militia members. It's all planned out, meant to paint them as heroes for carrying a gun and using it for protection. The others–martyrs for their cause."

"To push some rich political bastard's agenda, I assume?" Frank asked. “Considering there’s federal officials involved in this.”

" Many rich political bastards' agendas," you replied, nodding. "But I–I overheard them talking about Glen Allen, Virginia at that rally. I knew they were going to hit that city somewhere like this and it's–it's my fault it wasn't stopped. Its my fault–"

"Stop," Frank said firmly. "Stop it."

You froze, mouth still half open as you stared back at Frank. He was shaking his head as he looked back at you, his expression softer than it had been a minute ago. 

"'S'not your fault," he repeated. "What those assholes are doing is not on you. You did what you could–you took this to Madani. She's dealing with this now."

"But I'm a news anchor," you continued, the tears further building in your eyes. "I could have gone on the news. Warned people. Outed them. Something more than just running and hiding."

"Doubt your station would let you air that," Frank told you. "And you'd have only ended up with a bullet right here," he said, pressing a finger to his forehead, just between his eyes. "Because you'd have had them on you instantly. If there's big names involved in this, I can guarantee you there's worse out there looking for you than these half-assed organized militia members, Spunky. People like me. Maybe worse. You’d have had them on your doorstep so goddamn fast if you’d have taken this public."

And that was what did it. The thought that there was possibly something or someone worse than an entire militia after you right now sent the tears running down your cheeks, hot and wet. Frank winced when he spotted them, running a hand across the top of his head.

"Shit, I didn't mean to scare you," he said. "'M'sorry. I just meant this isn't on you. You're doing your part to try to stop them. You can't control what those assholes are doing out there."

"Except you're probably right, though," you choked out. "There probably are others out there after me right now. And I–I can’t outrun them forever. Not if they’re all out looking for me.” 

Almost immediately that tightness in your chest returned and you pushed off of the van, turning your back to Frank and burying your face in your hands. You couldn’t fight the sobs that wracked through you, ashamed that you were breaking down like this in front of Frank. But his words had set a new fear loose in you, one that felt like it confirmed the fact that you were on borrowed time.

Tentative hands were on your shoulders, your body going rigid at the touch. The tears continued to stream down your cheeks behind your hands, but you tried your best to hold back your sobs, though they kept coming out in strangled hiccups.

“Hey, hey,” Frank’s soothing voice said, his hands on your shoulders very gradually pulling you in towards himself. “You’re alright. Everything’ll be alright.”

“They’re going to kill me,” you breathed out, your hands muffling your words.

“No they won’t,” Frank said firmly. “I won’t let them. They’d have to get through me first. And I’m a stubborn asshole.”

You couldn’t resist the laugh that slipped out of your lips, Frank’s deep chuckle that followed somehow soothing. Slowly you lowered your hands down your face, the tears beginning to fall a little slower. Frank had somehow wrapped you in his arms, one of his hands soothingly rubbing back and forth across your upper back. The feel of it had you relaxing into him, though it didn’t help that you were now quickly becoming aware of your proximity to him.

“Told you I’d keep you safe,” Frank murmured. “And I’m gonna do that. You’re gonna help Madani take these assholes down. And I’m gonna make damn sure you’re alive for that. You hear me, Spunky?”

A slow smile spread across your lips at his words. You nodded, your forehead brushing lightly against his firm chest as you did.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Good,” he stated, unwinding his arms from around you.

He turned back towards the van, grabbing the cell phone he’d set down when he’d gotten up to comfort you. With his back turned for a moment, you hurriedly wiped the back of your hands over your cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears that had fallen. If you were being honest, you were still terrified of the nameless and faceless people out there after you, but Frank’s determination and confidence to keep you alive was certainly comforting.

“Here,” Frank said, turning back around and holding out the phone to you. “Already programmed mine and Madani’s number in there. Don’t think you’ll ever need it, but just in case you do, you have it.”

“Thank you,” you said.

Reaching out, you accepted the phone from his outstretched hand. Your other hand slipped into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out the cash he’d given you earlier. When Frank saw it he immediately shook his head, waving a hand at it.

“No, keep it,” he told you. “Probably makes sense you have some cash on you in case we’re ever separated.” When he saw the way your eyes widened he immediately added, “Which we won’t be, but it’s better to take precautions. Don’t need you stranded somewhere without money, right?”

“Right,” you whispered weakly, slowly returning the cash to your pocket.

Frank’s eyes narrowed at you for a moment, studying your tear stained face. You noticed his expression wasn’t as hard as it usually was at the moment. 

“How far from that shooting are we?” he asked curiously. “I’m guessin’ you’re aware.”

“Less then two hours away,” you answered instantly.

Frank let out a grunt at your response before he turned, closing the doors to the van with two solid bangs that echoed in your ears. Your eyes followed his movements as you stood there quietly, grateful that the urge to cry in front of him again had disappeared for the moment. Though at some point you knew you were going to have to unpack whatever that unexpected moment with him was when he had yet again comforted you.

“Next time, tell me this information,” Frank said, turning around and facing you. “That’s the kind of shit that I need to know to keep us both alive.”

“I was–was worried you’d think this whole thing was too big for you to want to deal with,” you admitted awkwardly. “Was afraid if I told you that you’d…leave.”

Frank’s eyes fell closed, his expression briefly looking pained. A second later his eyes opened again, focusing back on you. The look in them was almost pleading when he spoke.

“I’m not gonna leave you behind,” he assured you. “Can you just–just please trust me on that? I’m here to see this through to the end with you.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay,” Frank confirmed. He gestured his head at the front of the van. “Get in. I’m gonna drive a bit in the opposite direction before we grab an early dinner and a motel. We’ll be on the road first thing tomorrow morning and puttin’ as much distance between us and this Glen Allen as we can. Alright?”

You nodded again in response. “Alright,” you agreed.

“Let’s get the hell outta here, then,” he said, turning and making his way towards the driver’s side.

Silently you made your way over to the passenger side, suddenly realizing that you were beginning to really trust Frank. And maybe you were even beginning to like him a bit.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Standing beside Frank in the motel lobby, your hands held the greasy bag of fast food that you’d both picked up just before stopping at this shady little motel, your duffle bag slung over your shoulder. Just like he’d said he would, Frank had driven a couple of hours in the opposite direction of Glen Allen, trying to put more distance between you both and that city. The pair of you were planning to get a room and call it an early night in the hopes of getting back on the road early tomorrow morning and putting even more distance between you and here.

Though neither of you had expected to be waiting in a line at this motel, something you could tell was irritating Frank with the way he kept impatiently running a hand across his mouth. You also noticed it wasn’t just you who’d been eyeing the young blonde with the long curls that were pulled into a pony-tail booking a room in front of you with interest, either. Frank had also been curiously eyeing her, something like concern written on his face. She looked barely eighteen–if she even was–and that combined with her staying in a place like this was admittedly strange and a little worrying. You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was doing here.

As if she could feel the weight of both sets of eyes on her, she glanced over her shoulder back at you with distrust on her face as the woman behind the desk filled out some paperwork. The blonde’s eyes narrowed, especially when they landed on Frank just at your side. She gave him a quick once over, her nose wrinkling in distaste as she did.

“What’re you looking at, rough road?” she snapped.

“What?” Frank asked her, head cocking to the side as surprise washed over his features.

“Why don’t you stop staring at me?” she shot before abruptly turning back around.

Frank’s attention shifted towards you as he sent you a look of confusion at the interaction, his dark brows pulling together. You shrugged wordlessly in response, shaking your head at him. Though you had to admit, part of you wanted to laugh at her comment. Not even knowing who Frank was, he already looked intimidating as hell for someone like her to just say something so brazenly.

It was a minute later that the girl had grabbed her key from the woman behind the desk, turning and storming off out of the motel lobby, giving you and Frank a wide berth as she went. Frank briefly watched her leave, a frown on his face before he returned his focus on the woman behind the desk who was looking rather bored.

“Can we get a room?” he asked, approaching the desk and pulling out his wallet. “Two queen beds.”

The woman immediately began to shake her head at him. “Uh uh. Don’t have any more of those,” she replied, gesturing a hand at the door. “She just took the last one for her and her father. All I’ve got is a single queen left.”

You heard Frank swear under his breath, running a hand in frustration through his short hair before he reluctantly agreed to take it. As he paid for the room, you nervously clutched the bag of food tighter in your hands, wondering what having only one bed was ultimately going to mean in a place like this. A moment later the woman was handing Frank the room key before you were following after him out of the motel lobby, silently making your way past the rows of doors while looking for room eleven. 

As you approached the door behind Frank, you watched as he stuck the key inside and unlocked it. Awkwardly you stepped into the room after him, your eyes immediately falling on the single queen bed in the center of the space. Glancing around, you noticed that the only other piece of furniture was a very uncomfortable looking armchair and a small table beside it.

“You can take the bed,” Frank said, closing and locking the door after himself.

“And where do you plan to sleep?” you asked, looking over at him.

Frank turned, taking in the room himself. His mouth pressed into a firm line before he gestured to the armchair.

“I’ll just sleep here tonight,” he answered.

“That thing looks way too small for you,” you pointed out.

“Then I’ll sleep on the floor,” Frank shot out with a shrug. “Don’t care.”

Your eyes dropped down to the worn and very dirty motel carpet. You weren’t entirely sure what color it had been initially with how faded and stained it was. You cringed at the thought of him laying down and sleeping on it. Gradually your eyes returned to the single bed as Frank shrugged out of his coat, laying it along the back of the chair.

“We could…share the bed,” you said awkwardly, not entirely sure why you were suggesting that idea.

Frank stiffened beside the armchair at your words, his head slowly turning back towards you. One of his dark brows rose onto his forehead as he studied you questioningly for a long moment.

“You sure you’re good with that?” he asked.

Feeling heat creep into your cheeks, you stepped over to the coffee table and set the bag of food down onto it before dropping your duffle bag to the floor. “I mean I trust you’re not going to do anything other than sleep,” you muttered. “You’re doing all the driving and–” you broke off, shuddering as you continued, “–protecting. You need to get decent sleep. I’d give you the bed and sleep somewhere else, but…admittedly I don’t really want to sleep on that floor or that chair, either. So…we could just share the bed?”

Hesitantly you glanced over at Frank beside the chair, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for his response. He was still studying you with one of his usual impossible to decipher expressions on his face. Eventually you saw him give a single nod in answer.

“Alright,” he agreed. “If you’re sure. Should probably eat though and get to sleep. I want to get outta here early tomorrow.”

With a sigh you turned, opening the bag of fast food and grabbing the chicken sandwich you’d ordered out of it before making your way to the edge of the bed to eat. As Frank rooted around in the bag for his burger, your eyes lingered on the muscles in his back and the way his shirt was straining against his thick arms. For a brief moment you wondered how it would feel to curl yourself around his hard body in that bed tonight, having him wrap those strong arms around you while he comforted you yet again.

Though you quickly shoved that thought aside, blinking rapidly as you averted your gaze, beginning to unwrap your chicken sandwich. You were both just going to sleep in that bed tonight, and whatever those thoughts were that you occasionally found yourself having about Frank needed to stop.

[katuschka]

Olalla Chapter Sixteen 1/2

Jake Kiszka x f!OC 4.100 words (revised, May 2025)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): mentions of loss and trauma, heavy angst and arguing, kissing, fluff, and as always, an unhealthy dose of heavy emotions and feelings, sprinkled with some uplifting comic relief here and there; when the newfound intimacy is fragile, things simply don't always go smoothly,...

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Previous chapter Olalla masterpost

Well there's a rose in a fisted glove And the eagle flies with the dove And if you can't be with the one you love honey Love the one you're with

April 20th 2026, leaving Albany

__

The weather was merciful.

As if the unbiased forces of the universe wanted to grant them some respite. Because no matter what’s happening, no matter what tragedies and atrocities poison human hearts, the blooming Spring always seems to bring new hope to the world. It is because Nature is merciful to those whose souls are untainted. 

So, when the warm afternoon Sun emerged from behind the clouds and its warm beams landed on their skin through the windshield, a soft hum escaped Neszka’s lips as she exhaled, making Jake glance her way. Unlike him, she wore no sunglasses and the blinding sun rays forced her to close her eyes. 

The time seemed to slow down and Jake wondered if she could feel it too. It was just the two of them against the whole world, driving along the vast sea of trees dressed in young, lime green leaves. The muffled sound of the running engine often dulled his senses and made his mind wander, but not this time. Not when all his thoughts came running back to her and what she had said just two hours ago. Despite the calmness of the moment, his heart was beating fast, but it was no longer unpleasant. A few more minutes passed before she broke the silence.

“Can I open the window?” Neszka asked meekly shortly after they exited Interstate 87, making Jake chuckle softly. 

“You can do whatever you want, Veela.”

“I wish it was true,” she sighed as she pressed the button to roll her window down, letting the cool fresh air in. It immediately sent her hair flying. Panicking, Neszka pressed the window button again to close it but instead, it went even further down. “You’re driving too fast,” she squeaked while trying to spit the untamed strands of hair out of her mouth. 

This time he laughed in earnest, because she suddenly really looked like a storm nymph, with the bewildered, wild look in her eyes and all. Then it reminded him of the dreams he used to have, with her standing on an elevated rock, crying like a banshee, and his stomach dropped. “I’m driving just fine. It’s just a bit windy outside. Wait a sec.” He opened the left rear passenger window, turning the drumming turbulence inside the cabin into a much softer air flow. “I would have thought you’re used to a bit of wind, mountain girl. Getting soft already?”

“Spierdalaj!” 

“Language!” he laughed again, and she blew a raspberry on him. Hell hath no fury like a Polish woman ridiculed. The man wanted to play? She was more than ready. 

“It just surprised me, ok? I didn’t expect that. It was getting stifling hot in here.” She demonstratively tugged at the front of her t-shirt, letting some of the cool air dry the sweat that accumulated in between her tits. She spread her legs next, even though with the jeans she had on, it was just a demonstrative gesture. It worked though… “Maybe if you turned the air conditioning on, I wouldn’t have to feel like I’m sitting in a bog.”

Absolutely unprepared, Jake just took a gulp of coffee that was already getting cold and immediately spat it all over the steering wheel. With a smug grin, Neszka turned her face towards the window as if nothing happened. “But this, this is bliss…,” she added whispering, completely ignoring Jake’s cough. 

What a change, he thought. Just a few days ago, she was only a ghost of that kind, graceful and quick-tempered woman he fell in love with last September. He was so glad to have her back. Calm and melancholic when not poked, it took just one rash or hurtful word to send her raging like a storm.

Funny how thoughts sometimes wander. The raging storm…

“Why was he alone up there?” Jake asked bluntly all of the sudden. He didn’t even know why; it just occurred to him and he spurted it out without really thinking. As expected, it immediately changed the atmosphere in the car from playful to tense, and Jake cursed himself internally. 

“Who?” Neszka asked warily, even though she knew. This was not how he was supposed to play this game. 

During the past three weeks, they barely mentioned him, and deep down, she was glad. 

Jake sighed. There was no escaping it. “Josh… You told me you went to look for him all by yourself as soon as the storm was over, but you never told me why he was there all alone in the first place. Doesn’t sound like Josh. Not when there’s someone to spend time with…”

Neszka closed the window first and motioned to Jake to do the same with the rear one. It was already getting a bit chilly inside and it was about to get worse. 

“I don’t really know. The weather was a bit volatile that day. I wouldn’t have recommended anyone to go anywhere, but I wasn’t there when he left. I don’t know.”

And that was a lie. Because the truth felt like salt in the wound that was still raw. 

And Jake knew. She started breathing through her nose and avoiding eye contact, which always gave her away. 

“Could you pass me a napkin?” he asked first in a low voice. Only when he carefully wiped the rest of the coffee from the steering wheel, he decided to confront her. Equally carefully.

“He booked a flight for August 21th… the day after.” 

She didn’t respond, but pursed her lips instead, which was as good as nodding. So she knew about that. And she probably knew the reason why. 

“And you already knew who Christopher was when you first met us. I mean… pardon my curiosity, but people don’t usually talk about ex-partners right after the first fuck.” Jake didn’t want it to sound so harsh, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“We actually talked about him before the first fuck!” she snapped and crossed her arms. 

She was clearly upset and Jake hated himself for causing that, but this was actually something he had wondered about for quite some time. All his logic told him that she and Josh had been basically done before he intervened. 

The irony, right? Fate’s really whimsical sometimes. Jake was never one to wallow in what-ifs. He mourned the loss of Lulu-bean – or perhaps the loss of the idea of having a daughter – but Emilia had been right. You were never there. Things happen in a way they’re supposed to. At least he chose to believe so, because it would mean he had been given an extraordinary gift of repentance and a new start…

“I’m sorry Veela. I guess it’s really none of my bussin…” But she suddenly cut him off.

“We had a fight the night before. He already told you that. One idiot that I… used to know, he got jealous of Joshua and told the whole house about his microphone technician and the rumours… We talked about it, we got drunk, and then he told me he would never love a woman. I basically kicked him out of my room. Told him to get lost. Funny, huh? Happy now?” 

Jake took a deep breath and glanced at her, but Neszka’s head was turned the other way. 

“Those are Taffy’s words, though…”

She looked at him in surprise, but quickly remembered that this was in fact Joshua’s twin, which meant much more than physical resemblance, so she just sighed and started toying with the hem of her shirt. 

“And it’s clearly not true,” he continued. It wasn’t easy to say that, but Jake sensed she needed to hear it. 

“And it’s clearly not a complete lie either. What’s the purpose of this conversation, Jake?”

Healing, baby. It’s probably time we have this conversation. And I’ve been an idiot for avoiding it for so long. “it’s not… I mean… you probably need some closure.” 

“Are they back together?”

It took Jake a few seconds to respond, but he could feel her eyes burning a hole in his cheek. “Yeah,” he mumbled at last, eyes firmly on the road ahead. 

It was met with silence that lasted for almost a minute before she spoke again. “Oh, that’s good. I’m glad… I wonder if that’s why he didn’t even bother to come and see me…”

“No, that’s not true. I mean… not only was this all his doing and his idea from the very start, he’s also working closely with Jim to make sure that no one hurts you ever again. He really cares, Veela.” 

Neszka involuntarily touched the bruise that was already turning green. Mama’s words rang in her ears again. The world is full of bad people, but that man loves you. She didn’t even bother to say ‘they’. Mom always knew… The sooner she’d fully accept that, the better. It still wasn’t easy, though. She just  wished it wasn’t all just lies. Nothing more; just that. Feeling bitter about it was a new feeling, brought about by the silence of the recent days. 

“Uh huh… so WHY didn’t he come to visit? Didn’t even call…”

Fuck. “Because… I asked him not to do that…” 

Knowing her, he started chewing at the inside of his mouth, anticipating an inevitable storm.  He, however, did not expect to suddenly find himself under the eye of a hurricane, because he wasn’t aware he literally knocked the air out of her lungs with that little confession. You did it again. Looking sideways warily, his eyes met with her piercing stare, wild and dark green like a poison potion. He was glad she could not really see through his shades. 

“Stop the car,” she ordered with a deliberate, steely calmness. 

“Calm down, I can explain.” It wasn’t such a big deal, right?

“I said STOP-THE-FUCKING-CAR, kurwa mać!” Raising her voice, Neszka started banging her hand against the center console. Jake had to grab her wrist to pacify her, but she continued to wrestle with him. “Ok… FINE!”

After finding a safe spot, he pulled over slowly and took his sunglasses off. Neszka immediately unfastened her seatbelt, making him roll his eyes in frustration. “So what now? Are you going to walk the rest of the way? Have fun. It’s still more than 100 miles to go.” 

Instead of opening the door, she turned towards him and – ignoring his snide remarks – resumed their previous talk. “So, now you think I need closure, huh? I didn’t need closure yesterday? Why the sudden change? Is it because of what I accidentally said this morning? Well, I take it back! I need you to understand that I’m a grown woman. I’m done with you keeping things from me! Or people! Do you have any idea what it feels like to trust NO ONE?”

“Veela, you were…”

“I was what? A mess? Yeah, I’m a fucking wreck. I’m scared and heartbroken and crippled by constant worry for the people I love. I’m not sure if you noticed, but Maya’s family isn’t completely safe either. I never told you that not seeing him was what I needed. For days, I thought he just didn’t care anymore – or worse, hated me – and I started to FEAR the inevitable encounter. Because it will happen eventually! So, tell me, was it to protect me, or was it driven by your own selfish reasons, waiting until it would be safe for you?” 

“Oh I get it now,” he spat bitterly. “You outyelled him, didn’t you! I bet he needed a LOT of fresh air after that.” 

That made her even more furious. “Answer the fucking question!” 

“YES!” Jake yelled back as he leaned forward abruptly. They were now so close their noses almost touched. “I’m a jealous prick! BUT… I’m not sure if you noticed, but you had a fucking mental breakdown, and I selfishly wanted you to get better. You didn’t tell me shit, because you barely spoke for days for fuck’s sake! Shit, you barely let me touch you! It’s been more than three weeks! You were never that unwilling with him. I mean… my right forearm starts to look like Popeye’s. So pardon me for being frustrated and… unsure.” 

Neszka’s expression instantly changed from incensed to hurt, making him almost regret all those words. Almost. There’s only so much one person can bear.  

“You’re such an asshole!” she whispered. 

“And you’re a bitch. We’re even. But you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Defeated and with nothing else to say, Neszka collapsed back into her seat, so after a few more seconds passed in silence, Jake put the sunglasses back on, started the car and got back on the road again. “Fasten your seatbelt,” he muttered matter-of-factly. 

“You don’t understand…,” she whispered after a while. 

“So make me.”

She wanted to. Honestly. But her mind kept betraying her and she struggled to find the right words, because the reasons hurt. And so she remained silent, to which Jake responded with an exasperated sigh and put some music on instead, so that the silence wouldn’t feel that oppressive. 

It still was. Not even Stephen Stills coming from the speakers could change that. 

They arrived at Bretton Woods shortly after 7 pm. The setting sun covered the whole place with gold, but neither of them really cared, because their minds were shrouded in dark grey clouds. 

Jake had chosen a small wooden cabin outside of the town, with one bedroom, a large and cozy living area, a spacious kitchenette and an elevated porch with a wooden bench. Two mismatched upholstered armchairs and a small leather couch inside the main room and quilted blankets everywhere helped to turn the place into a really homey den. 

They unloaded the car in silence, completely indifferent to the singing birds, the smell of timber or each other’s internal screams. After everything was unpacked and seemingly in place, Neszka took a quick shower and without another word, closed the bedroom door behind her. 

As the sun came down, the cabin fell quiet and Jake sat down on the leather couch with a beer, pondering what went wrong again. A part of him wanted to continue blaming Josh, but this time he consciously fought against it. No, this was just between the two of them. At least she got her temper back. Yay for small victories. 

The last three days had been… nice. More than nice, actually. Despite a few hiccups. The road trip definitely did her good. Constant movement and rapid change of scenery offered at least an illusion of freedom and lightsomeness, as opposed to hiding from the world behind four walls. 

It was a long ride, but neither of them complained. Neszka had refused to set foot in the airport after what had happened, and not only Jake completely understood, he actually agreed they shouldn’t fly, given the circumstances. Hardly anyone approached him at gas stations or pubs, but there were always plenty of girls or women at airports who wanted a picture. Unwanted publicity was the last thing they needed. 

In fact, they had been ‘strongly advised’ to avoid it, and Neszka’s appearance unfortunately drew a lot of attention at the moment, thanks to the very same people. As much as she tried to conceal the bruise, it was still visible. She also refused to talk to people in fear that her accent would compromise them in any way. 

Leaving Nashville early in the morning on the 18th, they stopped for the night first in Cleveland, falling asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. 

The next evening in Albany, he dared to take her out for a burger and some beer. Despite her initial objections and reluctance, it turned out to be a pleasant night filled with easy talk and shared smiles… 

Back in their room, they watched a few movies before falling asleep late at night, knowing they were in no rush the next day. Neszka was not used to sleeping late, but he wanted her to at least try that. “We really need to synchronize our circadian rhythms,” Jake teased, “or else we’re gonna spend our lives like those cursed lovers from Ladyhawke.”

“That’s because your circadian rhythm is pretty fucked-up,” Neszka muttered against his shoulder groggily. She drifted off a second later and stirred sometime after ten. He had been right. It was bliss. 

Shortly after brunch, they decided to stop at the grocery store before leaving Albany so that they wouldn’t have to worry about it later.  

“Does the place we’re staying at have an oven?” Neszka asked after she put some ham and butter into the already nearly full cart, wondering what else they might need. 

“Yeah, I think so… but why? You should rest, not spend your days baking.” He wondered when was the last time she took a vacation. She used to tell them with a smile – him and Josh – that her whole life was a vacation. 

“Jake, I love you, but if I’m forced to eat that sweet white bread for one more day, I swear I’ll just jump in the ocean and swim back. I need to find yeast…” 

With her mind fully focused on the mission to bake her own bread, she trotted onwards, leaving him standing dumbfounded in between aisles. No fanfares, no romantic settings and other Hallmark bullshit. She said that without thinking and for some reason, it made it seem even more real. 

It took her a while to realize what she really did. He watched how she stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around, her face animated by the same realization. Her brows furrowed, but the corners of her lips moved upwards. A mere ghost of a smile, yet it still managed to make his heart sing. He nodded. He knew better than to demand more at the moment. They had time…

Lost in thoughts and recollection of the day that started with such high hopes and ended so bitterly, Jake didn’t notice her approaching him until Neszka tentatively wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. His free hand unwittingly grabbed one of hers and he started rubbing her wrist gently with his thumb. That emboldened her. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, resting her chin on top of his head. 

“That’s ok, Veela. Me too. I shouldn’t have said that,” he sighed. 

“No, I’m glad you did. I didn’t fully realize… I know this is weird. I really should explain…”

Jake squeezed her hand before he let go and patted at the vacant space right next to him. “C’mere.” Still a bit wary and careful, Neszka sat down with one leg tucked under, looking directly at him for the first time in hours. Jake took her hand again and rested his head against the backrest, watching her over the tip of his nose. “You don’t need to explain anything. Everything about this is weird, and I’m just a jealous and horny guy.” 

“No…,” Neszka exhaled raggedly and braced herself. “No… I really should. We need to start talking to each other, otherwise this won’t work.” She swallowed with difficulty, her mouth suddenly dry, so Jake offered her some of his beer and she took a sip. 

“Thank you… You need to understand that I didn’t come here to feel safe. And I don’t. And I don’t feel relieved that I escaped some horrendous shit either. I felt sad, and angry, and helpless that day, and the days after… but I was never scared. I never wanted to run. The things I’m scared of… I’m… I’m scared of losing people. And it keeps happening, and it’s very often my fault…” She squeezed her eyes shut as her voice faltered and she couldn’t hold back the tears. Jake quickly put the can down and pulled her into his arms. 

“Shhh, Veela, we don’t need to talk about it now. You’re tired. And I get it.”

“No,” she sobbed and straightened again. “We do, I’m not and I think you don’t. I was scared to leave my parents. I still haven’t forgiven myself for doing that, but mama told me things that made me realize something. I’m bound to lose them eventually, and I was going to choose a life path on which I’d end up completely alone one day. I don’t want that. That’s why I called you.”

She paused, examining her folded hands while thinking about how to formulate the rest, because what she already said still didn’t sound right. 

“Leaving my whole life behind was extremely hard, but I realized that staying there without you would be worse. I let you go once, hoping that the future would still hold something for me. That hope was crushed. I used to have vivid dreams about you offering me your hand, and I had cursed my mind for what seemed like a cruel joke. But then you really did. I know why you did that, and we would probably never see each other again if the shit hadn’t happened, but I need you to know that I’m not using you.” 

It was Jake’s turn to start crying. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and watched her intently through the tears. “I never thought that.” 

“Don’t lie. I’m sure it crossed your mind, and I really shouldn’t be surprised if it did. Especially when I’m still so… distant. It’s not for the lack of want...”

As she spoke, Jake moved gradually closer, and now with their foreheads touching, he whispered “shhh” against her moving lips. The sheer proximity of their bodies made her head spin in her vulnerable state and the scent of him that enveloped her was too intoxicating. So familiar. She pulled away from his embrace once again and watched him frown with his eyes still closed. It made her heart sink. He needed to understand…

“Please, let me finish this. I love you Jake.” His eyes shot open again and she looked directly into them, hoping he would see that. “I was scared to say that before I’d be sure it’s only you. I know that’s what you want, and it’s also what I want. Well, romantically, anyway…”  

She paused again, unsure what it really meant. Where was the division? Was it lust? She had spent years lusting after people without love. So what was it? The two of them seemed to have destroyed what she had thought love meant. They deconstructed the notion. At least Joshua did. He also recognized and accepted her feelings for Jake without question, probably because he was guilty of the same sin… It wasn’t healthy. They all suffered because of it. And yet she wouldn’t change a thing. it changed her. 

As if he was reading her mind, Jake asked softly: “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop, although I’m probably past that mad infatuation.” 

Jake simply nodded and leaned back again. He tried to remain outwardly calm and accepting, but Neszka already knew him well enough to see past those pursed lips. He would no longer look at her, and it should have hurt, but instead she could somehow feel his own struggle.

“And I love you,” she repeated again, and despite her previous fear, it felt liberating. “That first kiss back in September frightened me, because I realized I wanted more. Joshua was aware, and he didn’t mind, and, thinking about it now, it was all pretty fucked up. I want to do it right. I want it to be just you, for the sake of all of us. But I need you to trust me. And I need to trust you. He’s your brother, he’s not going away. And I would never want it to happen. I… Jesus, this is so hard… so many thoughts… I… I think I always knew that we were doomed, me and him, but lust and yearning always fogged my mind. I want to want you with a clear head. And it’s a mess right now.”

Jake remained silent, eyes still focused on the fire poker in the corner, but something in his expression softened. “Please tell me you understand. I do want to create those new memories with you…”

He closed his eyes momentarily, before he looked at her again and gently stroked her cheek. “Yea, let’s do that.” 

“Let’s start with your lips,” she mumbled before she leaned forward and closed that gap between them at last. 

“You already know my lips quite well,” Jake muttered after they broke the kiss and the said lips stretched into a smile. 

“Still not enough…”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep  @takenbythemadness  @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96  @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @kiszkas-canvas @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @joshylanefleet @thewaythatshebreathes @Ironlotus90 @justwantjosh @stardustsam @livviaaa

[lorifragolina]

Cabazon Dinosaurs

It's Billy's birthday!

This is my contribution for my challenge in @harringrovemicroficandart, prompt "childhood," WC 815. I only know Cabazon Dinosaurs from the movie "The Wizard", but in my homecountry there is also a dinosaur park and I LITERALLY LOVE IT. Since I discovered it was really near Billy's home in California, I thought he could dream to go there, so, here you are my fic! It was really difficult to stick to the wordcount so sorry if it seems a little weird!

I wanted to post it today because it's Billy's birthday and he deserves love as always! WC: 815 Warning: no warning Read in AO3

Read it below

It began on Billy's birthday the previous year, when he drove alone down the interstate and returned with a toy shop bag and a gift-wrapped box. 

They were simple toys, collected here and there, from a crappy gas station or from Melvald’s. A couple dolls from Max’s boxes she wanted to donate to the Salvation Army when she felt too old for Barbies. An old Slinky Spring that he pushed sometimes, humming the jingle when he was distracted. 

Max found the display in Billy’s room a little creepy, but El thought it was funny; it could be strange that a grown up nineteen old man collected childish toys, but it didn’t hurt anybody, and Billy was little by little trying to get along with the others with kindness, and nobody wanted to hurt his feelings.

He didn’t talk gladly about his childhood, but all of them suspected that he had gotten punches instead of toys when he was a child, and that little quirk was harmless. Billy was trying to make peace with his past, being neglected by both his parents, treating himself with things. When his worries were too heavy, he played with the little yellow pony from his shelf for a little while. The pony had a clump of chestnut hair on his head and made him think about Steve.

“What are Cabazon Dinosaurs?”

Billy hasn't talked a lot lately. He was able to be noisy, bothering, but not talkative about important things. Steve struggled to get the words out of his mouth sometimes, and when Billy opened up a little, Steve was over the moon for it; normally, Billy kept his things for himself, and that afternoon near the end of February wasn’t different, but Steve felt concerned anyway. 

Apparently there were no problems; Valentine’s day had just passed and they had a nice date, and they laughed and had fun lately, but now, Billy seemed a little nervous and absent. 

Steve asked Max, but at home it was all good, apparently; she noticed that Billy spent more time alone in his room, or stayed sitting on the sofa reading the same page for half an hour but she didn’t have any more clues.

One day, she, Billy and El were playing with Barbies, making accessories and decorations for them. They used an old toy car to carry the Barbies around and Max drew and cut food from a sheet.

El wanted to celebrate Barbie’s birthday, and they didn’t notice it, but Billy frowned and sighed faintly. El suddenly looked at him, saying nothing.

When Hopper called to collect her, she stopped Max on the door.

“What are Cabazon Dinosaurs?” She asked.

Max frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It was what Billy was thinking.”

Max remembered when she and Susan had just moved in with Neil and Billy. 

Susan didn’t know better at the time, and she asked what Billy wanted for his birthday. As usual, he shrugged, and Max, who didn’t know better either, said that she wanted to go to Cabazon Dinosaurs park. It was a place near Palm Springs where a guy had built two giant dinosaurs, and the almost fifteen years old Billy lit up for a second, looking at his father with a glimpse in his eyes. 

“We’ll see. It costs money,” Neil brushed it off. 

They didn’t go, obviously. Billy talked about it one more time, stating he had saved the money and that it was only an hour and a half driving; Max didn’t remember what was the excuse that time, but Neil had easily found a way to deny it and beat Billy, adding up another miserable birthday to Billy’s list. Max didn’t think anymore about the park, but after El went away, she realized. Billy would turn twenty in less than a month and he never had a proper birthday, and he was still thinking about that little, stupid desire that any other parent would fill without thinking twice, but that Neil had turned it into yet another sad memory. 

She talked with Steve, and everyone answered gladly at the call to arms.On Billy’s birthday, Steve picked him up at work and drove to the woods without a word about the date. 

Billy said something salacious about having sex in the car, but Steve parked and took his hand leading him between the trees.

Lights were hanging from the branches, with colorful garlands and decorations. Little dinosaur toys, from the boys collections, were scattered around a table with food and a cream cake with candles. 

The kids, Max and El were there, clapping and cheering, and behind them two big sheets on which Will painted the Cabazon Dinosaurs were proudly displayed with more decorations. 

“Happy birthday, Billy!” They screamed all together, surrounding a speechless, emotional Billy.

Steve squeezed his hand.

“One day I’ll take you to the real place. Happy birthday, babe.”

[small-sinclair]

Little Lady

Rusty Nail x fem!reader

Haven’t wrote this guy before but I wanna try it :3. It’s based off this.

Contains: I’m going to have Rusty and the reader about the same age (Rusty: 26, reader: 23). In this au, he’s just starting to kill.

Tw: light stocking, mention of murder, blood

Tag: @sketchy-rosewitch, @fluffy-little-demon, @poir0t-houck, @waxxl0ver, @crumb @ninakuli, @whimsyvixen, @roadkillerx

Part 1

When he saw you, he knew he had to have you. He knew that you were meant for him, but he wasn’t a fool. You’re smart, a perfect college girl, while he’s just a low-end truck driver. You don’t want to be anywhere near a drifter, a man that leaves for a few days, leaving you all alone. You wore a cute dress with flowers on it while he wore greased clothes and bloody boots. But when he saw your smile and heard your laughter, something inside his heart skipped.

He drove his truck along the sidewalk and came close to you, but you didn’t seem to mind. You gave him a smile when he called out, “Hey, little lady! Could you direct me to a station?”

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing down the street from your college. “Keep heading down that way and you’ll be close to the interstate. There’s a Love’s there.”

He looked at the road then back at you. He took in the sweet scent of lemon and vanilla, and he felt like he was home. There was something so bright and beautiful about you… he just didn’t know what it was.

“Thank ya kindly, miss.” He rolled up his window and started his way down the road, but his eyes drifts to his side mirrors. He wants to remember you.

************

A week past before he drives by the college again, and he sees you walking back from class. He couldn’t believe you were there. It’s like you were waiting for him… but he wasn’t going to fool himself. He just couldn’t.

Still, Rusty pulls up close to the side and rolled down his window. He admired your soft lavender dress with birds on it. He doesn’t expect you to remember him, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Hey, little lady!” He calls out, making you jolt.

When you looked up, your eyes lit up and friendly smile formed. “Hey, again!”

“Hate to bother you but,” Rusty looks at the road as he drives slowly next to you, “but do you know a good coffee place?”

You smile and point down the road again. He sees your little charm bracelet shining in the sunlight. “Yeah! Just before you hit the interstate, pass the Love’s, there’s a coffee shop with a green roof.”

“Not Starbucks, right?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. It’s called Luda’s Place!” you look back at him. “Great lemon bread!”

He nods and looks up at the road then back at you. “Okay… thank you, miss!”

“Have a good one!” You called, waving. You watched has his rid jolted with more speed, and you had a smile on your face. You hold your books closer to your chest and smiled. It was nice seeing him again.

************

The next week that followed, he saw you again, but a storm was coming from the north. He knew he had to haul fast to beat it, but he couldn’t help but pull up next to you once more. His eyes wondered over you light pink dress with roses sowed neatly. Your hair was put up in a braided bun, and your smile was just as bright as it was before when you saw his truck.

He slowed and pulled next to you. “Hey, little lady,” he says from his truck.

You look up then forward again. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Rusty shrugs. “I do agree with you on that.” He puts out his cigarette in the ash tray. “Looks like rain.”

“Heard it’s a bad one,” you answer as you walked. “You’re not driving in that, are you?”

He shrugs as he looks in his mirror to see the dark clouds behind the truck. “Have to haul metal parts, darlin’.”

“But do you really?” You asked, lifting your brow. “I saw the radar, and it’s mostly red and purple.”

He scratched his chin in thought. “I guess you’re right.” He looks down. “You know a good place to sleep?”

“Yeah,” you pointed ahead. “Two streets up, turn left. Follow that road and it’ll take you to a motel.”

He tips his hat, but he thinks. “Do you need a lift?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No, I’m good, thank you!” You flash a smile. “Hope you drive safe!”

He rolls his window up before starting down the road again. This time, when you wave goodbye, he looks almost sad. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone before a storm, but he didn’t want to push his luck farther in fear of freaking you out.

Besides, the whimper from the back of the van caught his attention. His eyes flicker in the mirror to see the man tied and gaged next to his whore of a wife. He smirks then hammers down. He couldn’t wait to play his game with them.

****************

It goes on like this for 2 months.

Every week, he passes by you, rolling his window down to call for you. You couldn’t help but smile at wave as he slows his semi down. Even if he has someone tied in the cab or a dead body to hide, he always made sure you never saw the blood on his hands or in the scruff of his chin. He learned that you were a fashion design major, so you wear the dresses you made. Not that he minds, of course. He also learned that your graduating soon, and it made him smile.

“Where you thinking’ of going?”

“Somewhere far from here,” you answered, looking up at him with a glimmer in your eyes. “I always wanted to travel.”

He hums as he drives slowly next to you. “I’ve been everywhere, and I’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as you.”

You blush as you hide your face behind your sketch book. “Bet you say that to every girl.”

He shakes his head as he blew cigarette smoke away. “Nah, just you, little rabbit.” His eyes glanced behind him at the woman, who was tied and gaged, in the cab. She had tears fall from her eyes as the blood dried from her lips. “I best be on my way then.”

You look up at him then at the road. “Be here next week?”

“As always,” he promises. “You just be safe.”

“You, too!”

As he drives off, he makes a plan for himself. He knows what he has to do to get you to come with him.

[fiftysevenacademics]

I just got an email that made me cry. At first I thought someone had copied me by mistake but there was something familiar about the name and then I saw only two other people were copied, both of whom I know from a dog rescue I used to foster for before moving away. And the picture of the dog he was writing about looked familiar.

The email was a very moving obituary for the dog he'd adopted from the rescue nearly 13 years ago. I suddenly remembered that this was the man who had adopted one of my most loved foster dogs.

My mom and I were driving home from the family Thanksgiving along a desolate stretch of the Interstate, when I saw a German Shepherd disappear over the side of a small bridge.

We were going 80 mph but I said, "Hold on, Mom, we're going to rescue that dog." I managed to pull over safely not far ahead and we walked back to where I'd seen the GSD. It was there but ran away the minute it saw me.

However, following it were two small dogs. I started to chase the shepherd but it ran too fast and I wasn't up for chasing it into nowhere approaching dark late in November.

But the little dogs were very excited to see me. I crouched down and called, and one of them bolted toward me and literally leapt into my arms. She licked my face and was so, so happy to be safe with a person.

The other dog was reluctant to come to me but did not want to leave the other one, so he permitted my mom to pick him up. He shivered on her lap for a while as we drove but eventually grew calm and fell asleep. My mom fell in love with him.

I alerted local shelters and posted on relevant Facebooks groups and Craigslist, but no one ever claimed them, and the rescue I fostered for agreed to take them, with me as foster.

I was watching BTVS at that point so I named them Buffy and Spike, even though it soon became evident that Spike was probably Buffy's adult or almost adult puppy.

Both dogs were adorable and well behaved and got adopted quickly. Spike got adopted by a writer whose old dog had recently died and he sent me a lovely update about how the dog, now called something else, was fitting into his family.

Fast forward to today. The email was an obituary for that little dog, and recounted what a happy, treasured member of the family he had been. His little antics and habits, along with a recent picture.

So many strokes of luck, or fate, and the happiest life a dog could have.

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 Sniper x M!Reader 18+ || Passenger Princess

[Road Head][Mutual Masturbation][Sound Kink][Voyeurism]

You knew exactly why you were chosen as Sniper's handler. Miss Pauling was absolutely swamped in work regarding Soldier's effective elimination of a local ecosystem and starting of New Mexico's largest fire in recorded history. The Administrator couldn't be bothered to do anything field work related, so the closest employee was chosen to accompany Sniper- the leash to keep the prized dog from running away.

Both of you thought it was stupid to worry about Sniper of all people running away. Hell, it was more likely that either you or Miss Pauling would be fly to Europe to snag Spy from an impromptu vacation. The rumble of the camper van starting up jostled you out of your passive aggressive daydreams of Monacco beaches as Sniper gave you a look.

"I don't need a bloody babysitter." He muttered to you, clearly unhappy with the situation.

"I totally agree. I'll just stay in the car while you do you, m'kay?" You responded as you buckled your seat belt and relaxed into the worn leather passenger seat. Sniper took a moment before he responded with a simple yet impressed hum of approval.

With that, the painstaking drive wore at your patience. You stayed as quiet as you could, as Sniper did not initiate any conversation... but the opportunity to be so close to one of the mercs! You were usually the cleanup crew! Just one question wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, Sniper seemed calm enough. Miss Pauling described Sniper as one of the most reasonable mercs, so if you had a shot to have a conversation with any of them, Sniper was your best bet!

"So uh, got a name?" You finally broke the silence. God, you felt like a fish out of water.

"..Sniper?" He responded, a slight smile on his face. You could barely tell it was a smile!

"No- nonono, I meant like.. your actual name."

The exhale through his nose was what you could only assume was a laugh.

"Right then, Mick Mundy. Why's it matter?"

"Just.. curious."

"Great, stuck 5 hours in a car with a curious type." Sniper sighed as he briefly rolled his eyes. His sarcastic nature put you off slightly. Did he not want to talk? That was more than fine if he didn't, but he could have said that!

A few moments pass as the awkward tension churned like butter. "Well I suppose I should ask your name too, be polite n' all." Sniper spoke up.

"Oh, does it matter for me though? I mean, I'm just an assistant." You laughed, but eventually confessed your first name.

"That's not a bad name, but I guess you're right. If we haven't met for this long, then we probably won't cross paths again." Sniper shrugged. "How long have you been in Teufort?"

"A few years, I was hired on by Miss Pauling to help with cleanup and stuff... the only reason I'm here with you is because she's busy with news repression. How about you?"

"I got the call about 4 years ago."

"Nice, nice... Paid well?"

"Yeah, 'can take care of my ma and pa."

"Aww, that's sweet."

"You?"

"Eh, it's an hourly job and I haven't slept on 2 days."

"Jesus." Sniper muttered as he glanced at you quickly. You looked well put together from a passing look, but in a more comfortable surrounding? Your eyebags were far more prominent. "Why don't you get a nap in since it's just interstate travel for a bit?" He offered.

You decided to take Sniper up on his offer and get the first taste of sleep that you've had in a good 53 hours.

As the gentle rocking of Sniper's driving drifted you off to dreamland, Sniper kept his thoughts to himself. God, you were hot. As soon as Sniper saw you, he wanted to pin you against the side of his camper and fuck you. But no, he had a code. Be polite, be efficient. He was a professional, with no feelings attached. Although, with you so sweetly asleep not 3 feet away from him, you made him reconsider lust as not an emotion, but a primal need. Rules of nature and all that junk. The way the barely setting sun kissed your skin as you curled around yourself made Sniper bite the inner side of his cheek in restraint.

By the time you woke up, the clock told you that there was a good hour left of driving before you two reached your location. You yawned and stretched, groaning against your will as the noises of your body started up. The little sighs and whimpers drove Sniper insane.

"Mornin'" You groaned as sleep still held you captive. Your body swayed, which led you to slump against the armrest between the two chairs, your head tapped gently against Sniper's side.

"Good morning, you awake?" Sniper muttered.

"Mhm... god, you're hot." You sighed sweetly, not completely aware that you said that out loud.

"Thanks mate, you are too." Sniper assured. He took a risk when he put his hand atop on your head, thumb rubbed over your temple. You giggled and pet his thigh.

Sniper cleared his throat awkwardly, was this a good time to ask? Was it even appropriate? God, your hand was too close for comfort yet so achingly far away! "Do you wanna..?" He hummed, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded as you fumbled with your pants.

God, the sound of you when you touched yourself- the sound of skin that slid over skin, the sound of your tongue wetting your palm, and the sleepy sigh of need, it all ruined Sniper just to hear. This was grossly unprofessional and impulsive, where the hell did this even come from?! Had you felt the same thing he had? He couldn't look over at you, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he grit his teeth.

"Hey, I'm curious." You speak up, your voice breathy as you continued to move your hand up and down your dick.

"Yeah?" Sniper responded, eager to answer.

"Have you ever gotten road head?"

Quick hands unzipped Sniper's pants and moved Sniper's hard cock through the slit in his underwear. A few experimental pumps was the only warning Sniper got before you swallowed around Sniper's tip, which gave you a choked out moan from Sniper. He was lucky that he was good at driving one handed as he shoved your head down deeper as his fingers twisted into your hair, nails scraped into your scalp.

He wasn't a dick you could deepthroat easily. You choked and coughed violently before you tried again with another effort, half of his length in your mouth with the base covered and jerked off by your hand. You assumed Sniper to be a quiet sort, and you were mostly correct. The bated breathing, the muscle spasms of his stomach, and the deep exhales as Sniper tried to keep his primary focus on driving only spurred you on. As you pleasured yourself, you took extra care to moan around the cock in your mouth.

The noises churned like a thick putty in Sniper's chest. Yeah, getting hsi dick sucked was great, but Sniper was always a more auditorial person. He was able to hear everything and he loved it. Oh shit- wait- god damn it!

Your mouth was flooded with cum as Sniper shuddered out his orgasm with little huffs and groans. You wanted to tease him for popping so fast, but you were far too busy swallowing it down.

"Christ, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."