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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year ago

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The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?

Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.

WC: 7.2k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

----

Triple Oak, Montana.

It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low.

You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.

In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies.

You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.

Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.

You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.

You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was.

“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”

“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days.

“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”

You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.

“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”

As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”

“You got it, tough gal.”

You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.

And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad.

It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid. He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy.

Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines.

“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”

Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.

But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.

You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.

You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.

“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder.

“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.

Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”

Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Uh, you two know each oth—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.

“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”

“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”

He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”

You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head.

“Who sent you?” He asked.

“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”

He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.

“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up.

“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.

“You were saying?”

He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.

There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process.

He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”

He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.

“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”

He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.

So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.

Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.

You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.

Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon.

He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.

Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.

“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”

“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”

“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”

He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of.

Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree.

It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.

“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt.

You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving.

“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.

“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”

He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some.

“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”

He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”

He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.

When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight.

He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.

“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.

You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.

An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.

As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.

You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.

Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim.

Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled.

“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”

His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”

“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”

He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.

You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.

You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.

He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly.

“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured.

His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs.

“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”

“So you were coming for me.”

“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”

He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg.

“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”

“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”

“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”

“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”

“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”

He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”

———————

There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night.

The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either.

When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.

He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?”

Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt.

“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.

“I could just show you…”

“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”

He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.

“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked.

“Fine. Why do you care?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”

You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”

He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”

“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”

You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”

The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.

He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in.

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.

He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement.

When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment.

It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.

In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over.

You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping.

The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black.

Until… Shit.

How long were you asleep?

It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours. Stupid, so very stupid.

You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face.

“So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.

“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping��”

“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”

You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer.

The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?”

Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward.

The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up.

He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress.

Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants.

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”

Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it.

He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly.

“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you.

His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?”

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch.

You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”

“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches.

He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it. Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”

He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”

With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue.

A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.

He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there.

Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.

He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.

“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.

You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.

"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.

His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.

As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.

“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.

Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.

“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”

He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”

Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan.

“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch.

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.

“In your drea–”

His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face.

“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”

He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.

You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you.

Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again.

But he would never hear the end of it.

Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”

“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions.

You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.

“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.

“I told you I was going to make it count.”

He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.

His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.

“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”

Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly.

Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”

You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace.

He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt.

A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.

As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.

Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”

You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”

“In a minute…”

He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.

He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.

“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm.

He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.

Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.

The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”

You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”

“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”

You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”

You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up.

“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”

“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”

“...Maybe.”

“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If?”

You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”

“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”

“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind you.

---——-

Part 2 out now!

#duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x fem!reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #polar fanfiction #duncan vizla smut #the black kaiser smut

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writingquestionsanswered · 2 years ago

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do u have any sort of website that can tell me jobs in a small town? trying to write a story set in a small town but i cant come up with any ideas for jobs apart from the essential ones like police or hospital

Jobs in a Small Town

Government: mayor, city manager, city council member, city attorney, city clerk, code enforcement officer, customer service representative, finance director, fire chief/firefighter, paramedic, human resources manager, information technology department, librarian, municipal court clerk/administrator/judicial specialist/court security officer, parks and recreation director, planning and zoning director, police chief/officer or sheriff/deputy, public works director, utilities clerk, wastewater plant operator

Business: business owner/operator or employee (such as a clerk, receptionist, manager, or administrator) at a shop, restaurant, cafe, gas station, mechanic, tow truck, locksmith, landscaper/lawn care, handyman, florist, funeral home, pool cleaner, daycare center, grocery store, feed and pet store, car dealership, clothing boutique, ice cream parlor, liquor store, bar, nightclub, community theater, "big box store" (like Walmart), warehouse store (like Costco), movie theater, mini-golf course

Medical Services: hospital (administration, doctor, surgeon, nurse practitioner, nurse, nurse's aide, respiratory therapist, anesthesiologist, orderly, receptionist, lab worker, security, etc.) Doctor's office or urgent care (administration, doctor, nurse, nurse practitioner, receptionist, etc.) Dentist or orthodontist (administration, dentist/orthodontist, dental assistant, orthodontic assistant, receptionist, etc.) Nursing home/assisted living facility (administration, doctor, nurse, orderly, etc.)

Random: country club employee, dog walker, babysitter/nanny, home nurse, museum director/curator/specialist/employee, town archaeologist (if area is rich in history), industrial jobs (mining, factories/manufacturing, farming/crop production, fishing/fisheries), wedding coordinator, convention center director, attorney, judge, taxi driver, utility repair technician, railway worker, bus driver, school jobs (principal, teacher, teacher's aide, librarian, cafeteria worker, counselor, security officer, custodian), airport jobs (administrative, security, service provider/employee, airline worker, pilot, flight attendant, plane mechanic)

That's all I've got at the moment, but keep an eye on the comments in case others come up with ideas! :)

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verdemoun · 6 months ago

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Don't know if you've already talked about bill but how is he coping with modern times? I always imagined a modern bill becoming a car mechanic, or something adjacent, maybe even becoming a small influencer where he posts abt trucks and such (and also his dog. I just know that man gets a dog in any type of modern au)

i have not spoken about bill because bill as a character just makes me so sad fam like was he doomed to be the power hungry bastard of toxic masculinity we see in rdr1 or did the events of rdr2 actively make him that way why was everyone so mean to him like you can see the way people treats him chipping away at him it makes me want to scream but back to timewarp au

therapy. my otp is bill and therapy. man needs anger management and to unpack that emotional baggage. it would take a while but once bill made the connection sometimes when he feels angry and acts out he's actually feeling sad/upset he'd start to develop as a person really quickly.

he would be so conflicted about seeing the gang again. why does no one talk about what happened to bill in the gap between rdr1 and 2?? dutch fucking left him behind bill would've followed dutch to the ends of the earth and been the perfect obedient loyal son he always wanted and dutch just threw him away because hunting down arthur and john for betraying him was more important!!

the new main gang would've picked him up because they knew he was going to be timewarped but it would be so uncomfortable.

poor kieran would've been so terrified he had to stay with annabelle and grimshaw until bill left. he usually regresses a little whenever someone timewarps because he has obvious reason to be nervous about the gang but it would've been a full breakdown just knowing bill was coming back. bill would've felt bad about it too because he never made the connection between how the gang's teasing made him feel vs what his bullying was doing to kieran.

the rest of the gang would've gone straight back to teasing bill because that was the dynamic last time they were all together. he would've hated it and lashed out a lot. he became something after they died they better respect it but of course they just don't. bill would've barely understood modern era before he bounced.

happy stuff now i promise. he ended up hitchhiking for a bit and learning about the modern world from truckers. he would love going to bars and truck stops and dodgy mom and pop diners along the highway.

he ends up getting a job on a ranch (ironically the modern day MacFarlane which became a massive multimillion dollar operation) and still gets to ride horses almost every day. he picks up herding super quickly and gets all the validation and care he deserves. the owners love him and are really supportive and patient when it comes to dealing with his temper.

he gets a little power trip out of learning to drive the semi-truck and unlike most of the hands is always super excited and happy to go on cross-country road trips delivering things to processing facilities. his favorite thing though would be the combine harvester he will work 14 hour shifts without complaint harvesting grain.

bill loves dogs almost more than he loves his horses he cannot drive past a sign that says puppies for sale without at least stopping to look. this habit has resulted in him having five dogs and they are his new gang. his first dog was a stray he picked up on the side of the road it's a wire-haired gundog mutt just called Mutt. he also has two cattle dogs (Clem and Roanoke), a long hair shepherd called Mercer and finally a catahoula called Abel. they are all working dogs and he does not go anywhere without all of them. they all sleep on his bed and are just as happy to go on cross country road trips in the semi as he is.

he can control all of them with a whistle or non verbal commands and they are insanely well trained. Micah fucking hates him sure Baymax can bark and growl and look scary on command but the second one of Bill's dogs curls up its lips Baymax is hiding behind Micah terrified and Bill is so fucking smug about it.

through therapy and having his ideals challenged bill starts making an effort to be less racist and sexist and actually confronting some of the gang about the way they treated him in 1899 and mending those relationships because look yeah he went off the deep end after the VDLs but he does still care about them and wants to have good relationships with them he's just got to work through a lot of issues go bill i believe in you

and most importantly he finally got over the internalized homophobia and admitted to himself he's a bit/lot gay. he's not wearing beads at pride levels of comfortable with it yet but he is a classic bear who will protect the gaybies from violence with violence.

it's like a many, many years slow burn but him and alden get together because charlybird's art is one of the only reasons i gave bill a chance as a character and i am a better person for it

#rdr2 timewarp au #bill williamson

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janedoecreations · 1 year ago

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The stale smell of the truck's interior filled your nostrils as you sat up, the grogginess slowly dissipating. Panic surged through your veins as you realized you were not in your own motel room, but rather inside of a truck. Your mind raced, trying to piece together what had transpired and how you ended up here.

Tugging the rag from your mouth, you coughed and desperately inhaled, grateful for the sudden influx of air. With a quick glance around, you noticed that the truck was parked in a dimly lit, deserted parking lot. The silence was deafening, giving you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. It seemed like a nightmare, except this was all too real.

Instinctively, you knew that your first course of action was to find out who was responsible for your predicament. Your heart pounded in your chest as you cautiously began rummaging through the truck, hoping to find some clue, some indication of the truck's owner.

Frantically, you searched the glove compartment, only to come up empty-handed. Frustration welled up within you, but you refused to let it deter you. Your eyes then fixated on the sleeper section of the truck, tucked away at the back. It felt like a covert operation as you tiptoed toward it, making sure not to alert anyone who might be nearby.

Ensuring the coast was clear, you slipped into the sleeper area, your eyes scanning every nook and cranny for any trace of the truck's owner. The small space was cluttered with personal belongings - old food wrappers, crumpled clothes, and various odds and ends that offered no immediate answers.

"Hey! You need some company?" a woman's voice called out, breaking through the tension-filled silence. Those words brought mixed emotions to the surface. On one hand, the possibility of help and rescue was tantalizingly close. On the other, you were well aware that the man who had taken you was approaching, threatening to minimize any chances of escape.

With a surge of adrenaline, you scrambled to maintain the appearance of an untouched environment. Hastily, you rearranged the items you had moved, ensuring they were back in their original positions. Time seemed to slow down as you raced to make everything look just as it did before.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you darted out of the sleeper's section, careful to keep quiet and unnoticed. Quickly, you shoved the rag, which had previously been used to silence you, back into your mouth to prevent any outcry. Your hands trembled, but you managed to regain control of your emotions, realizing that your best hope was to play the part of a captive.

Returning to your original position on the floor of the truck, you laid there, feigning unconsciousness. The sound of the door handle being jostled sent shivers down your spine. It was time to act convincingly, to fool him into thinking you were still out cold. You put all your efforts into making your appearance as disheveled as possible, further validating your unconscious state.

The cold floor beneath you provided some relief from the intense tension in the small truck cabin. Every muscle in your body felt strained as you held your breath, desperately trying not to reveal the faintest hint of movement.

As the door to the truck swung open, your heart skipped a beat. The sound echoed through your ears, and you quickly silenced your racing thoughts. Your senses heightened, and you strained to catch any cues from the incoming presence.

You could hear the man's sharp intake of breath. The door slammed shut, rattling the truck's interior. With bated breath, you listened to the man as he settled himself in the seat, mere inches away from you.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as you silently willed yourself to remain motionless. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could practically feel the man's gaze burning into your unmoving form. You couldn't afford to make a mistake. With every cell in your body screaming for oxygen, you cautiously allowed yourself to take a slow, controlled breath. It was a delicate dance, balancing the need for air with the necessity of appearing unconscious. You hoped that your breathing would go unnoticed.

Rusty's narrowed eyes never wavered as he observed you intensely. It felt as though he could see straight through your act. The weight of his stare was suffocating, almost as intense as the lack of oxygen you were subjecting yourself to.

The silence in the truck was broken by a sudden eruption of deep laughter. Rusty's amusement filled the tiny space, bouncing off the metal walls and adding another layer of tension to the atmosphere. The sound seemed to mock your efforts to deceive him.

"You can't fool me, darlin'," Rusty's voice cut through the heavy air, dripping with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. "I know you're awake."

As his words registered in your mind, you couldn't help but flinch involuntarily. The façade finally shattered, and you slowly opened your eyes, meeting Rusty Nail's piercing gaze.

A smile played at his lips, a mixture of triumph and admiration evident in his eyes. "You put up quite a show," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of admiration. "But don't underestimate my ability to read people. We have a long journey ahead of us, and I expect you to be more cooperative."

As he gazed down at you, your heart skipped a beat as you struggled to find the right words to speak. your mouth was still filled with the rag, and you could barely form coherent sentences. Rusty tilted his head to the side, studying you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

you tried to ask a question, but all that came out was a muffled sound. Rusty's lips curled into a smirk as he realized that you had questions. He had kidnapped you, after all, and it was only fair that he answered your questions.As he reached down to pull you up onto his lap, you felt a mix of fear and arousal.

As Rusty raised his finger, his piercing gaze locked onto your's. His voice was low and menacing as he uttered, "One you bite me just know I bite back and I bite harder…" Your heart skipped a beat as Rusty's hand found its way around your neck, squeezing firmly.

Rusty paused, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wouldn't mind taking a bite out of you," he growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. He raised another finger, his eyes never leaving your eyes. "Two," he said, another finger raised as he said "you scream and I'll wrap my hand around your delicate neck and snap it."

Your eyes widened in terror as Rusty's grip on your throat tightened. You could feel Your vision starting to blur as you struggled to breathe.

"Three," Rusty said, his voice low and dangerous. "You only get to ask three questions try and make them count." He pulled the rag out of your mouth and held you still as you struggled to move off his lap. His grin was wicked as he said, "Now sweetheart? I didn't say you could move you got something you want to say to me?" You could only nod, too afraid to speak. "Ask your questions."

As you remained still on Rusty Nail's lap, you could feel his steady heartbeat underneath you. It took a moment before you caught your breath. Surprisingly, Rusty seemed patient, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back as he waited for you to collect yourself.

As you tried to steady your breathing, your mind raced with the countless questions you could ask. But you knew you had to choose wisely, as Rusty had made it clear that he would only answer three questions. If your questions were good enough, he might even allow you to ask more, but it was a big if. You glanced up at him, meeting his intense gaze, wondering which questions would pique his interest.

Feeling his eyes lowering, you followed his gaze and noticed his attention locked onto your chest, observing the rise and fall with each breath you took. It was a curious moment, his focus shifting from your face to a more intimate part of your body. You blushed slightly, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were.

Finally, after gathering your thoughts, you found your voice and asked, "Who… who are you?" Your voice came out as a whisper, unsure of what response you would receive.

Rusty leaned back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you. "That's a good question, sweetheart," he replied, his voice filled with an enigmatic charm.

"You can call me Rusty Nail," he repeated, his voice softer this time, almost like a warning laced with an underlying charm. "Rusty Nail…I'll remember that."

"Good," he said, his voice low and husky. "Because I'm not one to repeat myself."

Your heart raced as you desperately tried to gather your thoughts amidst the confusion and fear. Rusty stared back at you with cold indifference. His intense gaze made your head spin, clouding your thoughts even further.

As you tried to come to grips with the situation, the tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. The emotions running through your body threatened to overwhelm you, but you fought to maintain some semblance of composure. You couldn't let Rusty see how terrified you truly were.

But a certain defiance fueled by anger and confusion started to emerge within you. With a trembling voice, you managed to choke out, "What do you want from me? Why did you kidnap me? What did I do to you?"

Rusty remained silent for a moment, still fixated on your face. Then, he slowly raised three fingers in front of you, his gravelly voice breaking the silence. "One question each. Tap on a finger of mine and choose which one of those questions you want answered, and I will answer."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what approach to take. Each question burned in your mind, demanding an explanation. Slowly, your trembling hand reached out as you tapped on one of Rusty's fingers. It was a bet on which question held the most weight, a gamble to uncover some truth amidst this chaos.

Rusty watched as your finger made contact with his, a faint smirk on his lips. His eyes bore into yours as he prepared to provide some semblance of an answer. But his silence was unnerving, amplifying the tense atmosphere in the room. Seconds turned into eternity as you impatiently waited for a response.

Finally, Rusty's gravelly voice broke through the air, piercing the suffocating silence. "You want to know why I kidnapped you," he said, his tone laden with intrigue.

Rusty Nail's hands tightened around your hips as he pulled you closer to him on his lap. His voice was low and husky as he spoke, "You see, I was on my way home. I was tired… was planning on hibernating like a bear when I got a call on the radio from a girl saying that she was looking for some company. I was bored, so I answered the call. Figured I would maybe meet up with a girl, have a great time, but well… when I got to the motel she gave me, wouldn't you know it, Darlin'?"

Your eyes widened in shock as Rusty's words sunk in. you tried to pull away from him, but he held you tightly. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you whispered, "Know what? He smirked as he said well… when I got there, I overheard pretty boy and his friends laughing as they gloated about pranking me. They didn't even see me standing there. I assumed that the girl's voice was yours, but now that I'm listening to the real thing… not even close, so I'm going to teach your friends a little lesson you know?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as Rusty continued, "If they follow through with everything I say, then you can go back to them. But… if they don't follow through, I might just have to kill you."

Your eyes closed tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably. "Please," you begged, "I didn't do anything!"

The sound of laughter filled the air as Rusty couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before him. His mischievous grin widened as he teasingly said, "Oh, you did something you were with your friends in the first place" His voice dripped with amusement, as if he had expected nothing less from you.

As his words hung in the air, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins. Instinctively, you lashed out, connecting your fist with Rusty's jaw. Realizing that you needed to escape from the truck, you swiftly turned and made your way towards the passenger door. Panic washed over you as you desperately tried to open it, only to find it locked. Frustration mingled with fear, knowing your escape was thwarted.

Rusty shook his head, his gaze fixed on you. He couldn't help but be intrigued by your audacity. Despite the punch you had just delivered, his amusement had not wavered. With a slight smirk, he reached over and swiftly grabbed the back of your hair, his grip firm yet controlled. Pulling you back towards him, he effortlessly guided you back onto his lap. "Feisty, huh? I like that," he remarked

His voice took on a playful tone as he commented, "now that was stupid, wasn't it?" The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smile as he leaned in closer, his breath grazing your ear. There was an undeniable edge in his voice, a mix of danger and excitement that sent chills down your spine.

As Rusty's breath caressed your ear, his voice was low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. "You have one minute to get on the floor and lay down," he whispered, his eyes locked onto your eyes. "And don't speak a word. Or I'll bend you over my fucking knee and train you properly."

Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the look in Rusty's eyes left no room for negotiation. You slowly lowered yourself to the ground, feeling the cool hardwood against Your skin.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softening slightly. "Now, stay still and quiet."

#rusty nail #joy ride #rusty nail x reader

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piperxnoel · 10 months ago

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PART 1: THE BASICS

• What is your full name?

Piper Noelle Harrington-Cruz

• Where and when were you born?

In Rhode Island on December 8th.

• Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Adoptive Parents: Deshaun(👼🏾) and Chauncey Harrington. Married 28 years. Had custody of Piper since she was born.

Biological Parents: Michael and Valencia Vergara. Married 30 years.

Deshaun was a Professor of English at NYU before retiring at 38. After which she returned to her Salon business as a stylist and owner. She also helped Piper run her business until her untimely death. Her mom was a fun loving, energetic woman with a fiery attitude and optimistic disposition. she was young at heart, supportive and an amazing mom and glamma.

Chauncey is a business owner. In his lifetime, he has owned several businesses. From a car dealership and car wash, to a barber shop, and a few fast food franchises. He has always had several sources of income. Currently his main occupation is that of a property investor. He is a quiet man with little to say, has a strong sense of humility and strives to be the best at everything he can. Around his daughters, he’s very comical, always joking and sharing stories of his past with them. He’s very protective and vigilant when it comes to his girls.

Michael is a lawyer and a doting father to his two girls. Though he’s only known Piper for the past 7 years, he has built a loving relationship with her and her children. Valencia is a doctor. She is very sweet and caring, but also no nonsense. She and Piper have struggled with building a strong bond but the two love one other very much.

• Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Piper has 4 siblings. 1 older sister, Lauren Vergara(strong, determined, but guarded and stubborn) and 3 younger siblings, Yessica, Annabella, and Zalena. All of her younger siblings are similar in personality. They are all quite like Piper and very close knit.

• Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

Piper lives in a Modern Mansion in Los Angeles with her sister and best friend, Sarai and their 4 kids.

• What is your occupation?

Like her father, Piper is a serial entrepreneur and owns several beauty based businesses. Currently she owns and operates 2 salons, a spa, and is in the process of building her medical Spa which is set to host its grand opening in the Spring. She also owns a cosmetics company, lash extensions line and is working on her own line of hair care products and extensions. She co-owns a food truck with her ex husband and son but only manages the books for the company. The business is for her son and he is the only one of the three who profits from the company.

• Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

Piper is 5’2, weighs 163, is mixed race(black, white, dominican), has long black hair and brown eyes. She likes to dress stylish, often times going through different trendy looks, but adding her own twist. She has several tattoos, the most important ones are the times of her children’s births on her ankle and arm.

• To which social class do you belong?

Piper is currently apart of the upper class but has been apart of both the lower and middle class before.

• Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

No.

• Are you right- or left-handed?

Right.

• What does your voice sound like?

Sweet, modulated, and melodic on a normal day with a bit of raspiness when she’s sick or has been crying or yelling or overly excited.

• What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

Girlll, Child, love bug, babes, hey boo, bitchhhhh, and please leave me the fuck alone are the most common.

• What do you have in your pockets?

Nothing. I carry a purse. I keep my wallet, phone, make up, gloss/lipstick, and protection from weirdos with me at all times.

• Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

None that I can think of.

PART 2: GROWING UP

* How would you describe your childhood in general?

Pipes had a great childhood. In the beginning, her parents struggled to conceive and adopted her in the years after taking in Piper, they fell on hard times, but were able to bounce back relatively quickly. Her parents never let Piper or her younger sister see their struggles. They often went back and forth between Rhode Island and New York. Her parents covered her, protecting her from seeing how bad things were. Eventually, when they were in a better postion, her parents filled her childhood with beautiful memories of family time at amusement parks, trips, and more. She was very loved and taken care of.

* What is your earliest memory?

Piper’s earliest memory is

* How much schooling have you had?

* Did you enjoy school?

* Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

* While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

* While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

* As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

* As a child, what were your favorite activities?

* As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

* As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

* When and with whom was your first kiss?

* Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

* Who has had the most influence on you?

* What do you consider your greatest achievement?

* What is your greatest regret?

* What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

* Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

* When was the time you were the most frightened?

* What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

* If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

* What is your best memory?

* What is your worst memory?

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heathermarielocke · 6 months ago

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Breaking Down the Factors That Affect Market Perception in Auto Transport

Market Value Over Time

Resale value is a critical factor when purchasing a vehicle, as it represents the predicted market value of a car, truck, or SUV at the time of sale. It is essential to understand that a new car that depreciates faster than its competitors can lead to a lower trade-in value, potentially costing the owner more in the long run if they owe more than the vehicle's worth on a long-term loan. According to Kelley Blue Book's Best Resale Value Awards, vehicles that maintain the highest 5-year residual values, expressed as a percentage of their original Manufacturer's Suggested Retail Price (MSRP), are recognized for their ability to retain value. These awards are determined by experienced automotive analysts who utilize extensive data, including millions of transactions, vehicle specifications, economic conditions, and auction results, to predict and track vehicle depreciation effectively.

Brands like Lexus and Audi consistently rank near the top for value retention in the luxury segment, indicating that these vehicles are likely to depreciate less over time compared to others.

Conversely, brands such as Jaguar, Land Rover, and Volvo may struggle with maintaining high resale values, especially when compared to high-volume models like the Honda Civic or Toyota Sienna.

Brand Prestige and Consumer Perception

Brand perception significantly influences a vehicle's market value and resale potential. Consumers' perceptions are shaped by direct and indirect experiences with the brands, and this perception influences their decision-making process.

For instance, Lexus is often seen as the epitome of high resale value, which enhances its appeal among luxury buyers who consider future trade-in values.

On the other hand, mainstream car buyers who have experienced strong resale values with brands like Honda or Toyota may find the depreciation rates of luxury brands like Jaguar or Volvo less appealing.

The automotive industry's perception is also affected by factors such as safety, reliability, and operating costs. Dramatic events, such as Toyota's large-scale recalls, have been shown to impact brand perception negatively, affecting resale values.

Conversely, brands that manage to maintain strong safety reputations, like Volvo, despite challenges, can sustain their position in the market.

However, as consumer preferences evolve and more brands begin to excel in multiple categories, the perceived difference between top car brands and challengers is diminishing, making the competition for high resale value more intense.

In summary, understanding the factors that influence resale value and consumer perceptions can guide consumers in making informed purchasing decisions that consider both immediate benefits and long-term financial implications.

Making the Right Choice for Your Needs

Assessing Personal Needs and Preferences

When selecting the right vehicle for city driving, it is crucial to assess personal needs and preferences thoroughly. One should consider how the vehicle aligns with their lifestyle, budget, and driving conditions they frequently encounter.

For individuals residing in urban areas, factors like vehicle size, maneuverability, and fuel efficiency take precedence. Compact cars with a tight turning radius are particularly advantageous in cities, where parking spaces are scarce, and streets are narrow.

Understanding one's commitment to vehicle maintenance is essential. A car is not merely a tool for transportation; it reflects one's responsibility and care. Regular maintenance such as timely oil changes and adherence to service schedules extends the lifespan of the vehicle and ensures reliable performance. Prospective buyers should ponder whether they are prepared to maintain a luxury car, which often requires more attention and higher costs, or if an affordable, reliable model better suits their practical needs.

For finding a reliable and responsible auto transport services, you can browse around this website. Lucky Star Auto Transport provide a professional car shipping services in California and nationwide. They offer direct car shipping guide, with fully insured car carriers and transporters that are reviewed for excellent service and competitive prices.

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#car shipping #auto transport #car blogging #automotive technology #Youtube

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aguamarinee · 1 year ago

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➪ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: K × reader

➪ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: action, slightly suggestive, a bit of crack

➪ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: inspired by The Heat (2013), the whole club scene with some small twists and changes. And K. ;)

➪ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: —

➪ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,9k

It was almost 10 pm. Me and my partner were sitting in her old AMC Rambler in the dark, parking after a black truck, close to a club named Ekko. We were watching every movement of the said building's entrance, especially the people who went in. We weren't too far, so we saw everything important without needing to sharpen our eyesight. It was for the better, perhaps we needed to keep watch all night, so we had to be extra careful.

Once again I looked at my phone and recalled the suspect's name and appearance; Yudai Koga, or — in the federal operation — just K, for short. The picture was not the best quality we had of him but his main features were still clearly present. He was tall and lean, but thanks to his fitted clothes he was perspicuously muscular as well, especially his legs. He seemed like a good runner. His face was chiseled, spotless, with a defined jawline and cheekbones, a firm but delicate face shape and features, small but sharp eyes, simple, nicely-curved lips, a perfect and smooth nose, and endless raven locks. His hairstyle was nothing too outrageous, but it sure looked soft and shiny... He was handsome, to say the least. A handsome bastard, drug dealer, and co-owner of the club in front of us, who we're about to catch.

He was always on the phone with some suppliers, and by the time we cracked his current number with the experts of the federation, he already had a new one. He changed it almost every week, so it seemed. That's why we had to seek a critical solution to this problem; do this impromptu operation and plant a bug into his phone to track him down successfully.

"Hey, see that? That's Koga, the guy we need." My partner said, sharp, as I looked up and in the dim street lights I noticed his lanky figure towering over one of the bodyguards and they exchanged a few words. He was still glued to his phone, obviously, but we successfully spotted him going inside, just in time.

"Let's get moving then." I announced confidently and we opened the car's doors at the same time, walking towards the ominous entrance in big steps.

The place was packed for sure, people swaying to the loud and noisy pop-music left and right, as soon as we stepped in, the crowd was present in every millimeter of the facility. It wasn't anything fancy, it even seemed a bit rundown from the inside, but perhaps it was just the sea of people. Or the aesthetic they were going for. Who knows.

We gravitated towards the center of the big dance floor and kept pushing away sweaty bodies — sometimes a bit aggressively, to teach them a lesson. Eventually, we saw a couple of V.I.P. booths towards the back and a sneak peek of our guy, Koga.

"Look! He's there!" I signaled to my partner. "We have to dance our way through." I whispered sharply and we exchanged a look.

We started to push through the crowd but we couldn't get much closer, we were slowing down and it seemed like we were tottering in the same place for minutes, while trying to keep a safe distance from some drunk residents.

"Okay, this can't go on like this." My partner turned to me, trying to shout over the music. "Let's go over there!" She pointed towards a more peaceful area, close to the counters, more to the sides. I let her lead the way and followed without question or disagreement.

When we swam through the crowd and finally had a chance to catch our breaths leaning against the wall beside us, I noticed a fire alarm there. It was a little red box and all I had to do was pull on it and it'll go off.

This will go fast.

"...So when I pull the alarm, everyone in shock will go towards the two exits." I signaled with my hands as I presented my spontaneous plan to my partner. "He will head towards the nearest one, which is northeast. I will bump into him, pull the cell, plant the bug in his phone, and say that he dropped it. It's something I like to call a 'cop drop'." I finished with wide gestures and waited for my partner's reaction. "Yeah, I got it." She shrugged and stood back a little bit. "Okay, here we go..." I confidently touched the small red box then pulled on it with ease... But the main part stayed in my hand with the pulley thing and the rest of the box fell apart. "What? There are no wires attached to this thing..." I examined the poorly-made mechanism with a surprised but confused expression. "And what is this? Gum? Or Silly Putty?" I carefully touched the weird, slimy thing in the middle of the box, where the alarm should have been. "Don't touch it! It's a condom." My partner whispered and quickly looked behind us, while I hastily dropped the thing "...He's on the move!"

Then she sighed sharply — as if she was already expecting this. "Let's just find a bathroom ." She nodded her head in the restroom's direction with a bored expression. "I don't have to pee." I said blankly, still holding the plasticky remains of the failed fire alarm in my hand. She didn't answer, just grabbed my hands and started dragging me closer to the restroom. "Oh, come on!" She dragged me all the way and struggled to open the strong door with one hand while keeping me close to her with the other. "But I told you I don't have to pee!" I added, frustrated, when she finally pushed me inside, the music and the crowd were almost inaudible here, which, at least was a relief.

"I didn't bring you here to ask about your bathroom habits!" She said and rolled her eyes. "You're killing us out there. We need to blend in and we need to shake our asses like the rest of the foxes." She answered in a serious manner. "Oh yeah, dancing to get close to him! Fantastic idea!" I tugged on my blazer and set to go back outside where the crowd was, but my partner stopped me harshly.

"Jesus, don't. Don't do anything you're doing!" She eyed me. "W-What? But he's over that way!" I stuttered for a second, now even more confused. "Take off that freaking jacket. You look like you're about to sit down and do their taxes." She said in a deadpan tone while I was completely serious. "This is a nice jacket..!" In my final defeat, I sighed and took off the off-white blazer, folded it, and put it on the counter of the sink beside us. "Okay, the jacket's off. How about this?" I looked into the mirror and patted down my azure-colored shirt that lay underneath my blazer. "I can't watch whatever process is about to happen." She muttered. "I'm a federal agent!" I retorted to her cynical words. "I know, and you look like one! You think you'll go up to him like this and he won't suspect a thing?" She shook her head. "Now button down." She reached in my way to kindly help me out but I snapped her hands away. "I got this." I whispered and unbuttoned the first two buttons, my bra's lacing was almost see-through through the thin, silky material.

"Fine. How's that? Is that good now?" I asked impatiently after I completed the task. "I think it's getting worse." My partner was watching me for a couple of seconds, thinking hard. "My fear is that I could put you in a bikini, but you'd still look like a bank teller." I stepped back. "Do you really have to say it like that?" She shrugged. "I'm trying to make a point. I'm saying that your face, and whatever's underneath this shitty outfit might not be bad. It's just when your big mouth opens, it ruins the whole picture. It's a total boner killer, and I'm going to help you." Then suddenly she pulled out a small pair of scissors from her pocket. "What are you trying to do?!" I panicked, stepping back, completely ignoring her previous insults. "Making you a proper outfit. Now, hold down your arms." She responded casually. I did what she asked me to, but I was nervous.

She got hold of my sleeves and cut into the fabric above my elbow, leaving it uneven and the edges started to frizz immediately. "No, no! This is one of my favorites! I only brought five of these to the city!" I struggled, as I saw the piece of clothing being cut to shreds. "Then I'll cut the other four as well." She continued on a bit more firmly, not paying attention to me, and eventually both sleeves of the shirt were cut off to a simple T-shirt length.

Does this really look better?

"I look like I've been attacked." I said, frustrated. "That's not my fault." She answered nonchalantly. "Oh, is it my fault then?" At this point, I was getting a bit angry by her behavior. "Let me even out the bottom then." My partner pointed to my dress pants and I freaked out once again.

Why is she so calm? How is she so calm?

What is she planning to make out of those, shorts?!

"Everyone likes shorts." She crouched down and pulling the length of my pants, she started cutting it mid-tigh. "No! This is such a nice and comfy material!" I protested but at this point, I knew it was no use. She was cutting silently, the edges of the fine textile were left a bit uneven as well.

"Don't touch that area..." I whisper-shouted when the scissors were traveling up my thighs a bit more. "Jesus, would you stop pulling my pants off—?" I shrieked but suddenly she stopped me. "Oh my god..." She said in disbelief, looking at my legs. "What are those?" She pointed at my spandex and pulled on it because they were visible outside of my newly-cut shorts. "Stop that! That's my spandex... It holds everything together." I confessed with slight embarrassment. "Why? What's going to pop out?" She looked at me with genuine curiosity. "Nothing! It just keeps everything where it needs to be." I slightly stuttered. "But like, medically?" She insisted. "No, not medically. It just keeps everything in the right place." I tried to clarify, using my hands. "You've got to vent that furnace, you know. It's a lot of compression and heat." She shook her head. "It gets plenty of ventilation, thank you." I answered hastily. "My hand's a foot off and it feels like it's on fire." She deadpanned. "Then why don't you cut them shorter, because no one can see my cervix yet?" I rolled my eyes and gestured with my hands as I couldn't believe her actions. "I will cut them shorter—" She began but I interrupted her. "No way! We're finished. Let's do you know." I nodded my head in her direction, standing before me. "I don't need a makeover." She put away her scissors casually. "So I get to look like this and you get to look like that? Like you were?" I asked, and now I was in disbelief. "Yeah, I know it's not fair." She shrugged and frowned but I didn't feel any sorriness in her voice.

"...Let's hit it!" I announced as soon as we were out of the bathroom.

Eventually, I had to take off my spandex so it doesn't interrupt anything visually and only the newly-cut shorts were left on my legs — and my boots of course, those that I had on already. At least she spared my shoes by not altering them... Furthermore, my T-shirt length silky azure shirt was cut into a discreet crop top and that's how my federal agent work outfit was changed in the end. And my hair too; she messed up my locks, because as she claimed it, it matches the clothes' vibes better.

Now I really look as if I'd been attacked. I refuse to comment on anything else.

"What are you looking at?" My partner asked a random guy that was eyeing me rather vividly while we stepped into the crowd. "I like how your friend's shorts make me feel in my shorts— I'm sorry, that was much cruder than I meant it to be." Said the guy with glasses and a cup of beer. "See? I was right about the shorts." My partner whispered to me. "I stand corrected on the shorts." She agreed with the guy out loud. "Let's proceed." I ended the small talk and put my hands on my hips.

We started mingling with the people once again, dancing around and slowly inching closer to the V.I.P. booths and Koga.

"...At one o'clock." My partner bumped my hips and pushed me a bit forward. Now our suspect was on the dance floor too, a big group of young girls were around him, presenting themselves in revealing outfits and trying really hard to dance with him at the closest proximity. You'd expect him to enjoy it and indulge in as much as he can I guess.... but most of the time he looked through the girls with a blank, expressionless face, his mouth corners rarely lifting. But it was surprising to see him without his phone being glued to his ears for once, although it meant that locating it in the building or on him will be much harder.

"Get in there." My partner signaled toward the magic circle around Koga. "How do I get in there?" I swayed my hips to seem like I'm dancing, and slowly closed the distance between us and the crowd while slightly panicking on the inside. "I have no idea..." She said and eventually, I just let her push me from the back to get close to him faster. "Get in there and get your hands in on the phone. And do the fucking cop drop!" She said while pushing me, growing frustrated by the second with the people around. "I can't do it from this position!" I answered back with the same attitude. "Okay, coming in one more time!" She kept me on my toes and pushed me in one final time, to Koga and his circle.

I'm not the upfront type who likes to get into conflicts and lift a hand... But I have a mission this time, so I'm about to get ugly with these girlies if they don't back down.

There was a girl who was completely holding onto Koga and trying to climb him like a mountain or something. I gave a look to my partner and she sprang into action to get her off. "I got her! But you're like a freaking nanny, speed up!" She said as she kept the girl in her strong hold. At this point I was really close to him, up in his personal space with the others. No doubt, he was dashing in real life too, but I was more intimidated by the younger girls around me, at the maximum of 19 years old by my calculations. I guess he is Mr. Club Owner Popular guy here. "Picture time!" He suddenly said, not making eye contact with me yet and finally pulled his phone out.

This is my chance!

With an enthusiastic turn I crashed into him and the said picture on purpose and tried to follow with my eyes where his phone could've landed and tried to get a hold of him as well. "Damn it, can somebody get my phone?" He asked and was about to crouch down but I held one of his arms and waist, cuddling into him in a weird way. "I got it!" The same guy with the glasses who complimented my shorts showed up and handed him back the device before my eyes. I could have just snatched it but I didn't...

"Thanks a lot, bro. But close a couple of buttons, ok? Club policy." Koga said from beside me sassily and nodded in the direction of the guy's shirt. It was kind of an asshole move, but as he took his phone and was about to put it back into his pocket he turned his head and noticed me on his side.

"Koga! Hi, hello." I tried to speak in a normal voice but I was already sweaty and a bit exhausted from the previous events so my tone came out much more desperate than I wanted it to... Meanwhile, I saw my partner dragging the random guy away aggressively and pushing him way back. "Hi." Koga said and for the first time we made eye contact; for a second he genuinely seemed curious as I looked up at him, since even in boots he towered over me. "Your moves were weird as hell, but I loved it." He said with a small smirk as he looked down at me, his dark, inviting orbs gliding over my outfit. He was not afraid to take his time exploring my being, while the music was still loudly going off in the back. He pulled me into a slight daze but when I snapped out of it, with a spontaneous idea my hands immediately met with his soft, silky raven locks — they were truly as fine as they looked in the photo.

Oh yeah, that's the shampoo move from now on.

"Your hair is so soft." I said, putting emphasis on the word 'soft'. I wanted to sound seductive but I have no idea if I succeeded. The music around us suddenly changed, the beat dropped and in a moment everyone started dancing like crazy, swaying, jumping and just colliding with everyone else in general. This time I got pushed into Koga against my own will, but I didn't mind as he held onto me because the crowd was taking away both of us, fast. He grabbed my waist as I was still fiddling with his hair, messing it up lazily but eventually, I was bound to hug around his neck firmly to keep my balance. We made eye contact again, both of us being enticed and it was even kind of magical as everyone else was moving around us and we just stood in silence, tangled together. But not for long. A strong push jerked me forward and I completely crashed into him, my face getting incredibly close to his chiseled one. Our eye contact was never-ending, our noses almost touching just like our lips... Those nicely-curved but narrow, cherry-colored lips opened slightly as if awaiting something. Something even closer and sensual, than now....

"Want to get a drink?" He asked in a low voice, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly, just a smidge above the art of whisper but I could still hear him clearly when he decided leaned in a bit, speaking directly into my ears. "Yeah, sure." I said as quickly as I could, breaking our 'hugging' position and turning on my heel, walking back to the V.I.P. booths while catching ahold of his hand and lightly dragging him with me. I didn't want him to see my face change to crimson so I acted as fast as I could. As we walked through the crowd our positions changed soon enough, and now he was the one leading the way. As we arrived and sat down on a small leather sofa the realization hit me that my mission is to get his phone. His phone was in his back pocket at the moment—

"—Who's this?" He picked up the said device with a strict gaze. The alarms in my head went off and I was full-on agent mode, a bunch of ideas popping into my head as I watched him quickly end a phone call. When he finished he put his mobile onto the armrest beside him lazily and I knew I had to spring into action. I had no idea where my partner was, but I knew I could count on her abilities to carry out our initial plan. But I was the main attraction — literally — so it's time to do something, it's time to be upfront.

"Can I sit on your lap?" I looked at him from under my lashes and ran a hand through my messy hair, trying to loosen both the mood and my nervousness inside. I may have thought I look intimidating in his eyes, but in my eyes his look still gave me a chill, a good feeling spreading through my spine. "Obviously." He answered boldly and didn't even wait for me to move, he just casually placed his hands onto my waist and lifted me up, and sat me onto his lap with a swift movement.

I'm not going to lie, that felt nice. Very nice. His hands could stay there longer...

"I like where this is going." I continued as I got comfortable in my new seat. Our heads were in the same height now and I could see his spotless features even clearer than before. He shifted around a bit too, opening his legs a bit wider and relaxing his arms, his shoulders, and leaning back his torso. He was wearing a simple outfit, but it still proved to be difficult to tear my eyes away from his form. His jeans fitted him perfectly, not too loose but not too tight, just the right amount to hug around the few curves and muscles of his long legs. His long-sleeved maroon-colored shirt was tucked into his pants and its sleeves were rolled up, exposing slender but firm forearms, a big palm, and long fingers. He wore a couple of thin bracelets, but no rings. And a delicate chain necklace around his neck. As I was mapping out his build and persona, it seemed weird how two-toned his being felt. He was a simple man, handsome, tall, and muscular by body, but at the same time, his face was the perfect mixture of innocence, pure beauty, and a dash of sweetness with full-grown masculinity. I got lost in his presence again, no doubt, he was definitely a sight to look at — if not for anything, but as a side-part of my mission to memorize his face and character for the future.

"I, too like where this is going." He gave me a mysterious smirk as he hug around my waist once again, but not long after one of his hands slid down to my knee, then my thigh, and I felt light caresses on my exposed skin in a circling motion.

Damn, he's good at this.

I let loose too and leaned a bit into him, part of my back hitting his chest while my hands traveled to his neck and necklace. "What is this supposed to mean?" I asked pointing to the 'Y' letter charm on the small chain hanging around his neck — faking that I know nothing about him —, but I wasn't shy to touch his whole neck first. "It's for my name." He responded and his palm caught mine, moving away from my leg and he intertwined our fingers. "Your name?" I asked back and a smile was growing in the corner of my mouth. "What's your name..?" I asked, slowly breaking into a mischievous grin. "You should tell me your name first. I'm here almost every single night and this is the first time I've seen you. You're the first woman over twenty to sit on my lap like this and touch me, talk to me. So you tell me first." He spoke softly, sweetly even, but there was a strict, demanding undertone to his sentence as well. And his words didn't fail to tickle the shell of my ear and heat up my skin when his hand from my waist slid under my crop top, his palm touching my warm skin in that area. He kept his hand there, as a guard, as a comfort, his body heat colliding with mine and I was enjoying more and more being in his hold by the minute. His actions caught me off-guard again and I forgot both my mission and the question he just asked, but obviously one was a bigger problem than the other. "About that drink—" I tried changing the subject but his hand grabbing my hip suddenly cut me off. "We're having a big foam party later. Maybe I could get you a drink there, exclusively. And we could continue this... even further." Then he gave me a discreet wink, smile growing wider and he showed his white teeth while he watched my reaction, intrigued. "I would love to then!" I said enthusiastically, for a moment feeling genuinely excited, then I remembered my mission again.

Yes, right, let's do something about that freaking phone.

But before any of us could prepare for the upcoming events, suddenly someone really drunk and wasted crashed into the open booth and landed on the small glass table not far from us, almost overturning it. But as I examined the person's outfit — as much as I could see from it — I quickly realized it was my partner so I was at ease. "So sorry!" She said, but her voice came out muffled like a drunkard's. As the table moved, luckily there were no drinks on that could've spilled out but it almost hit us. Koga tried to stand up in a hurry so he can stop the table and my partner's dramatic falling, but this ended in me falling off his lap towards the armrest his phone had been placed on. I quickly snatched the thing and made it seem like I'd completely fallen off the couch while keeping the small device to myself. I opened it at the back with a quick move, removed the previous storage battery card, and placed in the new one which was connected to the federal system by a microchip, resulting in the knowledge about his location and position all the time, instead of cracking his current phone number and eavesdropping his calls. It was a few seconds really, but it was more than enough to catch our suspect off-guard, while he was loudly calling for some guards to have my partner removed. "Guards! Get her the hell out of here!" He stood tall. "I swear some people hold their liquor like a five-year-old..." He sighed in frustration.

My partner kept tottering, trying to get up from the table, and from the corner of her eye, I tried to signal that I was done. I didn't want her to get taken away by real guards so when I saw two of them coming closer I figured it was my chance once and for all, to get out of here as well. Although I kind of wanted to stay, this moment ended our night so suddenly but there was no real point, so I might as well get out in the safest, fastest way possible.

"Alright, sweetheart, you're out." I walked up to my partner, touching her shoulder and trying to make her get up to leave as the bodyguards were getting closer and closer. "I'm a pony!" She said and she jumped up as I tried to pull on her hand and I knew she was just making a fuss since at this point we completed our job. "Get her out already!" I heard Koga again from behind me and the bodyguards finally reached the three of us. "No! I've got to drive the school bus tomorrow! It's my shift!" She protested and the tall and armed men helped her to stand up while I stayed by her side as well. "Here we go..." I said casually in a light, upbeat tone to sound silly as she was being taken away and I followed them shortly.

"Hey, I didn't get your name!" Koga pulled me back by my hand for a second which I was genuinely surprised by. "I'll find you, I'll find you myself!" I spoke in a rush, loud and unclear because of the music and all I wanted to do was to get out. I ignored his stare and his hands holding down mine, I rather came off as cold and in a hurry. I even waved him off at the end as I quickly searched for the guards stepping out at the entrance, typically kicking out a club's resident to the streets. Not suspiciously, a minute after I made my escape too, and by the time I got out my partner looked like her old self, waiting for me. "Pretty nice, right?" She asked and held up one of her hands for a high-five. "Yes, I have to say that was pretty awesome." I accepted her gesture and we quickly started to walk back to her car.

This time I got to sit behind the wheel and when I comfortably started to drive at an appropriate pace I noticed something off in the rearview mirror.

"We've got company." I said in a low voice as the exact black truck started following us the second we took a turn to get away from the club. "Do you want me to take the wheel?" My partner asked, but she got her gun ready at the same time. "I've got this, I'll lose them." I replied confidently and took a speedy, sharp left turn right after.

Looks like our night isn't ending immediately.

...Some real action is happening at last.

➪ 𝐀/𝐍.: I just rewatched The Heat with Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy and I came up with this idea because this scene in the movie is gold! (P.S. I don't own any of the original scenes, dialogues, or characters, I was just inspired by the film!)

➪ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 【𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓】 !

#Spotify #&team #andteam #&team x reader #&team scenarios #&team k #andteam k #koga yudai #&team oneshot #&team imagines #&team fanfic

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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Lil' excerpt from the self-indulgent DC fic I was working on yesterday for my birthday fun times.

Context: "My Adventures With Superman" meets Superboy.

Clark is talking to Lois and Jimmy in their office at the Planet when he hears it.

It's a heartbeat.

Clark hears those all the time these days. He can hear Lois and Jimmy's right now. Can hear everyone in the whole newsroom's; the whole building's; the whole city's.

And he can hear his own heartbeat, though he's so used to it that he usually tunes it out.

So . . . why is he hearing his own heartbeat, he wonders slowly, trying not to frown. Not sure what about his own heartbeat would make him want to frown, when–

Oh, he realizes.

It's not his heartbeat. It's not even in the building; it's blocks and blocks away.

Why on earth would he have thought a stranger's heartbeat on the other side of the city was his own? That doesn't make–

ta-tum

. . . sense.

Clark blinks, very slowly. The heartbeat carries on, sounding excited and eager and . . .

And . . . and strong.

He isn't sure why he cares so much, that it's strong. That it sounds . . . healthy. It's not like he ever wants to hear a weak heartbeat, after all. A weak heartbeat is never, ever a good thing, except when the alternative is no heartbeat at all.

But this specific heartbeat . . . for some reason, he cares that this specific heartbeat is strong.

Why does he . . .

ta-tum ta-tum

That's not how human heartbeats sound, Clark realizes, slowly. That's not–no, that's not a human heartbeat. Maybe not any kind of heartbeat he's ever heard before at all.

But it sounds so familiar all the same. It sounds . . .

Right.

He doesn't know how else to explain it.

Clark frowns. He glances towards the wall in the direction of the ta-tum heartbeat, letting his glasses slip low on his nose so he can look over them.

Specifically, so he can use his X-ray and telescopic vision over them. There's . . . the heartbeat is twelve blocks away. It's coming from a body on the street, one that's standing in place but not staying still, gesturing expansively and speaking to someone in a . . . food truck? Looks like a food truck, yeah. The heartbeat's owner isn't especially tall or broad, but it looks like all their growth plates are still open, so they're probably not physically mature yet. Judging by their posture and body language, they're likely male. And a teenager, given both their size and those growth plates. Younger to mid-teens, he thinks? Maybe?

Clark tunes in his hearing. The heartbeat's owner gestures at themselves and says, "Look, if this was cosplay, I'd have done a better job, okay? Like, I'd be more accurate!"

They do sound male, yes. Male, and young. And . . .

And a little . . . odd, somehow.

"So what is it, then?" the person in the food truck asks, clearly amused by whatever they're discussing. Female; probably ten or fifteen years older than the heartbeat's owner.

"Would you believe I just didn't have anything else to wear?" he says, sounding sheepish.

"That's a pretty extreme version of laundry day, kid," she says with a laugh. "But I appreciate the assist with those assholes either way. Want some chili fries? On the house."

"What're chili fries?" the heartbeat's owner asks as he leans in a bit, sounding curious.

"Oh, lemme rock your world, kid. One sec."

The food truck operator starts bustling around her truck, presumably in pursuit of chili fries. Clark frowns a little. Well, chili fries are probably fine for a teenager, he figures, even if the kid's really never had them before. Though chili fries do seem weird for a teenager to not have heard of?

Maybe he's an immigrant or a tourist, or home-schooled, or just from a particularly small town. Smallville admittedly is not the ideal place to get chili fries, so Clark assumes that's probably normal in other small towns too and–

"CLARK!" Lois yells, waving both hands in front of his face. Clark startles in surprise, then blinks at her.

"Uh, sorry," he says. "Did you need something?"

#superman #superboy #clark kent #kon el #my adventures with superman #rinfic #wip: weird kryptonian bonding rituals

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cominginhotoffthepresses · 1 year ago

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Thinking so hard about an Eddie who figured that the only way to leave Hawkins with some money in his pocket was to answer the call on every notice board in every gas station, and become a trucker. Who started off hauling dry van loads across the state, then the Midwest, then settled into a route that makes the old men suck their teeth and say things about wearing thin when he tips his coffee toward them on the loading dock.

Who straps his guitar beside him for the long hours spent in the cab without being able to move.

Who keeps his promise to Wayne to eat something savory every day, if only to make sure he doesn't live off vending machine goods alone.

Keeps his cassettes in easy reach and knows weird little college station's range by heart; who else would keep him company past 2am?

Stashing away every cent (trying to, things just keep coming up) to get an owner/operator truck of his own. Eyes the concert trucks hauling delicate equipment in the early mornings, on their way to the next show and holds onto the dream.

Who spends whole rides sometimes, scrolling through CB channels to find any other lonely soul going his way.

And Steve Harrington, who is so extremely sure that Dustin's radio set up is illegal, actually, but who does very much stop caring when that illegal set-up leads to stumbling across a voice who is all too indulgent any time he's within Indiana state lines.

#steddie #ramblings #stranger things au #cominginhot

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chloe-doust · 6 months ago

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Chloe Doust’s Dedication to Personal Injury and Consumer Advocacy

Chloe Doust stands as a beacon of hope and resilience for individuals facing personal injury and consumer rights issues. As an attorney at the esteemed Gillespie Law Firm, Chloe's dedication to her clients extends across North Carolina, Alabama, and Minnesota. Her commitment to justice and unwavering support for those in need make her a standout figure in the legal community.

A Passion for Advocacy

Chloe Doust's legal career is rooted in her profound passion for helping people. Specializing in personal injury and consumer rights law, she navigates the complexities of these fields with expertise and compassion. Her firm handles an array of claims, ensuring that every client receives the attention and justice they deserve.

Expertise in Personal Injury Law

Personal injury cases often bring emotional and financial turmoil to the victims and their families. Chloe's expertise covers a broad spectrum, including automobile, truck, and motorcycle accidents. She meticulously investigates each case, ensuring that every detail is accounted for to build a strong claim. Her clients find solace in her thorough approach and her relentless pursuit of fair compensation for their suffering.

Championing Consumer Rights

In addition to her personal injury practice, Chloe is a staunch advocate for consumer rights. She tackles issues such as unlawful eviction and property law claims, safeguarding her clients' rights and ensuring they are not taken advantage of by powerful entities. Whether drafting lease agreements or fighting for consumer protections, Chloe's legal acumen and dedication shine through.

Beyond the Courtroom: Supporting Small Business

When she is not in the courtroom, Chloe Doust turns her attention to her small business in South Carolina. Her experience and knowledge in international trade law, bolstered by an LLM from Nottingham School of Law in England, equip her to handle the complexities of business negotiations and day-to-day operations. Her dual role as a business owner and attorney provides a unique perspective, enriching her ability to serve her clients with a well-rounded understanding of both legal and business landscapes.

A Heart for Service

Chloe's dedication to service extends beyond her professional obligations. She volunteers at Baptist South Church, offering her legal expertise to those who might not otherwise have access to it. Her commitment to pro bono work underscores her belief in making legal services accessible to all, irrespective of their financial standing.

Free Consultations and Compassionate Care

At the core of Chloe's practice is a genuine desire to help. Her motto of offering free consultations and services whenever possible is a testament to her selflessness and dedication. She believes that everyone deserves quality legal representation, and she strives to provide that to the best of her ability.

Conclusion

Chloe Doust's dedication to her clients and community is inspiring. Whether navigating the intricacies of personal injury and consumer rights law, supporting her small business, or volunteering her time and expertise, Chloe's impact is profound and far-reaching. She exemplifies what it means to be a compassionate advocate, tirelessly working to ensure justice and support for those in need.

#chloedoust #lawyer #legaladvice #law

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mordenheim · 2 years ago

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Lepus Liberation

This was a fun tale I wrote a while ago for my friend, https://www.furaffinity.net/user/redband.jackalope ! Just a bit of growth leading to a little bit of heroics on the part of her lovely jackalope! Art also c/o Redband. Jillian grumbled under her breath as she sped down the open desert road. Her blue Jeep Cherokee's engine roared in the relative desert silence as her sandal clad paw pressed down harder on the accelerator. The heat coming off of the blinding sand all around caused the air to shimmer and created phantom puddles on the blacktop. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as her mind kept going back to what she had seen that morning. The fluffy, white-furred jackalope was practically trembling with anger as she remembered the message she had seen that morning. A news report on a so-called feral bunny rescue where the owners had no idea what they were doing but somehow operated just within the rule of law. Half of the poor things were unbrushed, their coats so matted that their fur was falling out in clumps. Not to mention they hadn't been properly separated so nearly all of the females rabbits were currently pregnant!

She had instantly decided she was heading down there to give them a piece of her mind. The staff needed to either learn how to watch over the rabbits the right way or take them across town to a real animal shelter where they would be properly cared for. Exactly how she was going to make them do this was another problem entirely.

She drove along the desert road, her temper began to cool a bit as the warm, dry air from her open window rushed through her soft fur and long, brown hair. She sighed softly and itched at the stump of her broken antler. She realized there realistically wasn't anything she could do, and the thought of a face to face conflict with these random strangers was causing a knot to form in the pit of her stomach. Checking in the rear-view mirror and seeing nobody coming up behind her, she decided to pull over to the side of the road and think a minute.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even hear the loud, droning buzz of the over-sized silvery mosquito as it swept in through her open window. She didn't even feel it land lightly on the collar of her black t-shirt. Even the quiet hiss as its needle-like proboscis extended went completely unnoticed. A glowing green liquid dripped from it as the tiny mechanical monstrosity leaned towards the vulnerable flesh of her neck.

“OUCH! Damn it!!” She jumped and slapped at the side of her neck, an expression of disgust on her face as she felt something fairly large crunch under her hand. Looking down at her palm, she saw some kind of green glop staining her fur and what she thought had to be a crushed bluebottle fly. What other biting insect looked so shiny and metallic after all, even if it did seem a bit big. She wrinkled her nose as she grabbed a leftover fast food napkin from a pocket on the drivers' side door, wiping the mess off of her fingers. “Ugh, just one annoyance after another today.” She tugged at her seat belt grumbling about how tight it had gotten and adjusted it a little as she got ready to turn her truck around and head back towards home.

As she reached out to turn the key she overshot it by an inch or so. She blinked, taking a look at her hand, turning it from side to side in front of her. It looked swollen somehow, the knuckles a little stiff as she flexed her fingers. “What the hell, am I having an allergic reaction to a bug bite now?”

She leaned over to pop open the glove compartment, her larger fingers fumbling with the latch. Finally getting it open, she hunted for a mirror to get a better look at the bite mark. The jackalope was sure she would find some hideous, swollen red welt on the side of her neck. As she sat back up, she winced in pain as she felt her one unbroken antler rip across the ceiling, gouging a deep tear in the headliner before scraping the metal underneath. Her eyes went wide as she ducked down a little, getting short of breath as she felt the seat belt constricting her waist a bit more. She threw the driver's side door open with enough force to rock the truck on its springs. Almost in a panic, she couldn't unfasten the tightening seat belt from around her midsection. She yanked hard on the fabric and there was a loud snap, sending the poor jackalope tumbling out of the vehicle and onto the hot, sandy pavement of the desert road. She pushed herself up off of the ground, dusting off the sand as she stood. Reaching out with one hand she slammed the door of the car shut in frustration, nearly causing the vehicle to roll over. A slight wave of vertigo swept over her as she looked more closely at the still gently rocking cobalt blue truck. It had always been about nose height on her, her eyes looking right over the top of it. Now, however it was just shoulder height, and chest height a few seconds after that. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to calm herself and failing miserably. “Okay. I shouldn’t panic. But... I think I’m definitely panicking! What? Whatwhatwhatwhat?!” The slowly growing jackalope took a step back from the vehicle and immediately lost her balance. The heel of her paw had extended back off of the rear of her sandal as she grew and offered no support as she toppled back and landed heavily on her rump! “OW! Mmmmf...” She groaned, focused on the pain in her rear for a split second before realizing that the pain in her feet was increasing. She glared down at her paws, already a bit over-sized because of her species and now seemingly expanding by the second. Her toes almost seemed to be inflating as they were constricted tighter and tighter by the sandal straps. It wasn't long before the tortured leather snapped and sent the soles flying from her big, fluffy paws to bounce off of the side of her truck. The cuffs of her blue denim jeans were rapidly retreating up her calves as the brass button on them snapped open. She gasped, grabbing at her waist as the zipper tore itself apart. Looking down, she could see her t-shirt stretching itself rapidly into a halter top as her poor, straining bra was overflowed by her furry endowments. There was an almost metallic snap as the tortured support device ended up lying useless atop the rapidly shredding denim stretched across her swelling thighs.

She blinked her big, pink eyes as her vision blurred. The rising jackalope crossed her eyes to see a tiny pair of glasses lying flat atop her snout. She leaned forwards a little and they slipped right off, landing with a soft clink atop her dwindling SUV. Scrambling back away from the vehicle before she grew into it and caused serious damage, the newly minted macro realized that just one of her paws was now larger than the dependable vehicle that had carried her all the way out here just moments ago. It was just a few seconds more before she realized that she was completely nude. In spite of her thick, fluffy fur keeping the giantess completely decent, she leaped to her feet with an earth-shaking boom, wrapping one arm over her chest and placing a hand over her crotch. Heat blossomed in her cheeks, the deep red blush forming beneath her white fur was easily visible.

The giantess' shout echoed out across the empty vastness of the desert, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” Embarrassment was quickly being overpowered by anger. She had come all of the way out here to give those so called bunny rescuers a piece of her mind. Now she was in the middle of the desert, naked, and gigantic. Frowning, she moved off of the road, into the soft yellow sand. It was actually somewhat soothing to her aching paws as she started stomping her way towards her original destination. It wasn't long before the giant had reached her goal. The so-called bunny shelter was just up ahead. Inside the building, a ferret, a deer and a mouse were racing around, trying to catch various items that were falling from various rickety shelves as they were hit by what they thought was a minor earthquake. As the tremors grew stronger they gave up on trying to save the toppling merchandise and quickly moved outside. They froze in place as they gazed up at the fluffy giantess standing before them, tapping one massive paw impatiently on the sand. They were practically throwing one another to the ground as they tried to make a run for it.

“Oh no you don't!” Jillian boomed, lifting one huge, soft paw and plopping it down on the fleeing wannabe rescuers.

She pinned them down against the warm sand as she hissed through gritted teeth, “I've been walking through the desert, my feet hurt, and you're staying RIGHT THERE until I get these poor bunnies out of here and to a REAL rescue shelter.” The gigantic jackalope slowly slid her paw through the sand. Bunching it up beside her huge foot, she ended up burying the workers partially in a pile of it, leaving their heads and arms free to cough and struggle. She turned her attention to the rickety metal building and shrugged. Gripping the front edge of the tin roof in her powerful hands she started rolling it back like it was the lid of a huge tin of sardines. Squinting her eyes as she peered through the gloom, her heart nearly broke as she saw hutches filled with bunnies everywhere, many of them in truly horrible shape. Casting about for some way to carry the poor things, she spied the company van sitting off to the side of the employee parking lot. Crouching down beside the pile of sand, she grumbled out, “I should squash the lot of you for the way you've treated these poor babies, but instead, you're going to help fix things.”

She used a finger to carefully dig out the employees who were still struggling in the sand. “You're going to unlock the back of that van and you're carefully going to secure every last bunny hutch there is into the back of it. Right now.” It took a bit of time to get everything loaded and the doors shut. One of the workers, a slinky looking ferret started to open the driver's side door, “So, where we goin'?” Jillian slammed the door shut with a single fluffy finger. It impacted the van with enough force to cave in the tough metal, making her wince internally. She would have to be careful moving it with the bunnies inside.

“WE aren't going anywhere. I'm taking these poor things to a real rescue and you're all going to learn to care for bunnies properly.” She gently scoops the van up in one hand, cradling it against her belly as she glared down at them all.

“Because if I ever hear about this sort of thing happening again?” She cocked one leg back and kicked the side of their main building. There was an earsplitting bang accompanied by the tortured shriek of tearing metal. Without the roof to help hold it in place, the corrugated metal wall shredded apart like tissue paper as her paw blasted through and slammed down inside. She crushed desks, chairs, and filing cabinets flat against the concrete floor. Turning her white, fuzzy tail towards the shocked furres and her nose up into the air, she slowly walked off into the desert to the north, her booming footsteps echoing into the distance.

Her towering legs were beginning to ache as it took a good half hour of walking before she reached her destination. Car alarms were blaring all around her as she carefully picked her way through the suburbs around town. She laid back her ears, trying to block out the piercing noise as she tried not to cause too much damage. Finally, she carefully crouched down, lowering the van gently into the parking lot outside the Happy Hutch Bunny Rescue. As lightly as she could, she used a claw tip to tap on the side of the building. It was a young dog, a retriever of some kind from the look of it, who stepped outside and very nearly turned and ran right back in before Jillian called out for him to wait. “Hold on, please. There are some rabbits in the back of this van in pretty bad shape. They really need your help.” Reaching out, she ripped the rear of the van open, no longer caring about any damage done to the vehicle. Seeing the shape that the rabbits within were in, he quickly called the rest of the staff on his radio. The motley assortment of workers formed a sort of fireman's bucket brigade to get the hutches full of injured rabbits inside the facility as quickly as possible. The giant jackalope smiled brightly and sighed, rubbing absently at the stump of her broken antler as she felt that this was a job well done. She crouched down above the crew, telling them, “Thank you all so much for your help.” Rising back up to her full towering height, she looked down at the van for a moment. “Oh yeah, you guys might want to call the number on the side of that thing so they can come get it back.” Shrugging a shoulder, she then carefully picked her way back through the sprawling suburbs and back out into the desert.

It was nearly sunset when Jillian finally saw the deep blue blur of her truck in the distance. Everything as far as she could see was a brilliant orange hue that the sunset cast upon the sand. She was completely exhausted, her feet hurt horribly, and more than anything she really wanted to just go home. “Wait. What the hell am I going to do when I get home? I can't even fit in my yard, much less my house at this size!”

Feeling utterly defeated, she slumped her way closer to the vehicle, then blinked as she realized that it didn't seem to be getting any closer as she approached. Was it a mirage? Was she actually lost somewhere in the middle of the desert? Her heart leaped in her chest as she realized the reason it didn't seem to be getting closer. She was shrinking! She was finally returning to normal! Whatever it was that had caused her to grow into a macro must have finally worn off. She breathed a huge sigh of relief as she picked up the pace, hurrying back to her truck. She reached it just as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first chill of the desert evening started to creep in. She stared at the road near her truck in awe. The pavement was cracked and broken, crushed into the shape of a huge paw. Her ruined sandals were flung to the side of the road underneath the truck and a few scattered rags were all that remained of her ruined clothing.

She headed back over to her truck, for once in her life actually glad she had left the keys in the ignition. She was just about to wonder if she should risk driving without her glasses when a soft glint of reflected moonlight caught her eye. She gave a little whoop of joy as she stood on tiptoe for a second, ignoring the pain in her calves as she grabbed her glasses from the roof of the truck where they had landed earlier and slipped them on. The bridge a little bent, but she could easily tighten them when she got home! She sighed happily to herself as she perched her glasses atop her muzzle, smiling to herself. A feeling of contentment and a job well done gave her peace of mind as Jillian slipped behind the wheel of the old blue Cherokee and started home.

The End?

#Macro March #growth #macro #rabbit #bunny #jackalope #hero #heroine #torn clothes #ripping #rippage #destruction

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