#single cab Chevy

[onlyhappyvibes]

[pineyw00dsshesquatch]

FOR REAL.

I got GEWD Walmart trail tires on our Ranger, and it's rusty AF underneath, but MF runnnnns!!!!

What kind of vehicle would Inuyasha drive and why would it be a pickup truck?

[trashmouth-richie]

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER

MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.

warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.

The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat. 

  Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway. 

  100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.

  “Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!” 

  The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. 

  But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps. 

  Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls. 

  As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath. 

  “Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open. 

  To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve. 

  The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category. 

  The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down. 

  And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.

  Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years. 

  Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him. 

  Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place. 

  Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time. 

  Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.

—

  Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.” 

  “Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t..  fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.

  His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch. 

  You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side  when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.” 

  AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews. 

  “Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?” 

  “Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck. 

  Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..” 

  “Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”

  A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs. 

  It was your idea.

  The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back. 

  “great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!” 

  “Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.” 

  The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose. 

  Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too. 

  As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again. 

  When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game. 

  “It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!” 

  Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?” 

  Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,” 

  “Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.” 

  With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing. 

  “Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”

  Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.” 

  “Shoulda ran faster,” 

  The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.” 

  “Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.

  “Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.” 

  The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him. 

  “Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”

  You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!” 

  Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!” 

  “Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.” 

  Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit. 

  The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy. 

  The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you. 

  And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.

  The pain and swollen fingers were worth it. 

  “And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now. 

  Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.” 

  You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge. 

  “Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.” 

  Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room. 

  Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.

  The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him. 

  His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep. 

  It just never seemed like the right time. 

  “So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat. 

  “Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”

  “Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh. 

  The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes. 

  “Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.” 

  You're certain your heart stops beating. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest. 

  “Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.” 

  It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning. 

  He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste. 

  That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.  

  His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin. 

  And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours. 

  He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee. 

  He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet. 

  Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good. 

  Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem! 

  Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear. 

  “Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them. 

  Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust. 

  “I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”

  Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans  also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up. 

  “Are you fuckin’ serious man?” 

  Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!” 

  It was true. 

  Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely. 

  Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me? 

  His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin. 

  It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans. 

  He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it. 

  maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.

  She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling. 

  The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone. 

  She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap. 

  Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained. 

  Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve. 

  “See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips. 

  “Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”

  Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.” 

  “No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.” 

  Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before. 

  He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.” 

  “Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?” 

  Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in. 

  Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago. 

  You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath. 

  You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom. 

  Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”

  Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move. 

  “‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you. 

  “just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly. 

  “She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.” 

  Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”

  It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? 

  “Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.

  What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods. 

  “Let her speak for herself!” 

  Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.” 

  Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there. 

  “One.”

  “What?”

“What!”

  “Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?” 

  “Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen. 

  “It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?” 

  You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face. 

  “C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.” 

  You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?” 

  “all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him. 

  Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again. 

  “Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?” 

  “Yeah, whatever.” 

  He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.

  You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over. 

  A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck. 

  “This okay baby?” 

  His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth. 

  You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild. 

  Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.

  Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg. 

  “So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain. 

  His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.

  Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock. 

  You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention. 

  “oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?” 

  Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?” 

  “With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls. 

  “Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit. 

  Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck. 

  Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum. 

Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length  and the head of his cock slides into your throat. 

  The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.

  He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly. 

  “Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ. 

  “Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?” 

  “Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.

  Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion. 

  “My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”

  He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you. 

  You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you. 

  Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?” 

  Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them. 

  “You’re on, Munson.”

  Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s. 

  His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth. 

  You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue. 

  Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much.  Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin. 

  Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck. 

  “Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.” 

  Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.” 

  “Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours. 

  Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.” 

I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

[uncleasad]

Tonight’s shower thoughts:

First, I was back on the age-old question of what is the make and model of Ethan’s truck? There’s no entry in the TVDU wiki, and none of the screencaps there provide a clear identification (since they’re focused on the characters), though I feel like we got one or two shots in S3/S4 that did show enough of the truck. ( @unsiredtribrid, any chance I can impose upon you to add that to the list of things you’re already so graciously checking for me in your rewatch? 😂)

My gut is that it’s an old GMC or Chevy, like this 1986 GMC Sierra from Wikipedia (except not extended cab, obvs), or perhaps an even older one, late 70s pre-oil crisis?

Anyway, that musing led me to the fact that in 2x03, we see Sheriff Mac dropping Maya and Ethan off at school in her squad car…and then, oh god, the timeline! 😳

So in S3, Ethan’s driving the truck to school.

Also in S3, Maya has already dated Finch and it ended badly enough that Ethan doesn’t like Finch. The Machados are new to town, as Mac replaced Matt Donovan as Sheriff after he became Mayor sometime between 1x04 and 2x01. We don’t run into the Machados in 1x02 (the football game), 1x04 (“school exchange”) or 1x14 (Miss Mystic Falls…which seems like a Maya thing—but obviously the Machados weren’t even a glimmer in the writers’ minds yet in S1, much less cast).

But the Machados also seem well-established at school in S2…Ethan’s QB1, Maya’s a cheerleader…those tryouts are typically in the spring or sometimes summer, before the new school year begins. The election’s probably in November, with the winners taking office the following January (local elections can be weird; dunno what they’re like in Virginia). If the town wanted to have a new sheriff ready to go for January when Matt becomes mayor, then Machados have potentially been around most of S1, say between 1x04 (which takes place in the aftermath of the football game, which S2 establishes is in the fall) and 1x06 (the twins’ Sweet 16, which we know is March 15)…

But S2, S3, and S4 all take place within a single year, the latter two within a matter of months of the end of S2 (which is sometime, likely just, after the twins’ 17th birthday on the Ides of March)…

How old are Ethan and Maya? In S2+, are they sophomores? Juniors? Seniors? How long did Maya and Finch date? Why is Ethan suddenly driving in S3, a few months after his mom is dropping him off at school? SO. MANY. QUESTIONS. 😭

The TVDU (and especially Legacies) timeline is a black hole 🕳️ Why?! Why must my brain ask these questions? 😱

[barnesboo1967]

The Farmer’s Daughter - Prologue

Series Summary: After Tyler’s last ride, he’s been lying around the house. His parents decide he needs a summer job. Lucky for him the owner of the town rodeo needs a new farm hand. But just when he thought it couldn’t no hotter the farmer’s daughter comes home from Aggie Land. Will they have a sweet summer lovin’ or will the break up in a small town

A/N: So this is my first fanic (Wattpad doesn’t count). After seeing Twister it somehow sparked my writing itch again. So that’s how we got this. I wasn’t sure that I would make this a series, but felt like it was worth a shot. Please Please give me honest feedback, like I said this is my first fic. I will be putting a lot of country references in this so you have been warned. And I know I am shit with my grammar so I am so so so sorry if I mess up a lot. At this point I am just rambling on and on.

That night had been haunting him. it hadn’t even been 6 seconds. But that 5 second ride changed his life forever. He spent a week in the hospital to treat his injuries. One fractured knee, a broken hand, dislocated shoulder, and a mild concussion. He then spent two months in physical therapy. But even after all of that he would never be able to ride again, his mom wouldn’t let him. The second he brought it up, she shut up down. She didn’t want to see her son go through that again.

So for the following 3 months, Tyler rarely left the house. Why would he? All his friends still rode and he couldn’t. It wasn’t like they didn’t reach out, but he never answered. He just stayed home. His parents knew how hurt their son was when he couldn’t ride. For years riding was his life and now it was all gone. They couldn’t bare to see their son just laying around. Their son who used to be so full of life, was now a shell of that young man. They knew something had to change.

That was how he found himself hauling hay and feeding hogs. His parents had managed to get him a job with the local rodeos owner, as a farm hand. Working in the Texas summer heat. Tyler was ready to quit, but just then he saw an unfamiliar red jeep pull up.

Grace just finished her second year of college. She had been missing home as the year came to an end. As much as she loved her cheerleading college life, she also missed the quiet small town life. Her heart swelled as she saw that all to familiar two story white house. All the FaceTime calls was nothing compared to being able to wrap her ma’s neck. Or the feeling of being in her daddy’s arms once again, she had always been a daddies girl (not like that get your mind out of the gutter).

It had only been a couple months since she last saw Maverick, her little brother, but he shot up like a rocket. He gave her the classic teenage side hug before getting the majority of her bags for her. She noticed an unfamiliar single cab burnt orange Chevy parked by the barn.

As she walked into her childhood home, she was attacked by her baby. A year old black lab named Trigger. “Hi sweet boy, did you miss me?” She said as she squatted down to love on him. Trigger proceeded to show his love by licking all over her face. She stood back up and headed up to her room. It was still the same she had left it when she came home for Easter. She put her bag on her bed and walked over to the window. Her room had the best view of the farm, overlooking all of it perfectly. As she looked out she noticed an unfamiliar face.

Tyler was finishing up loading some hay into the ranger to go feed the cows. When he heard the sweetest voice come from behind him “Hi, I am Grace. I hadn’t seen you around here before and thought I would introduce myself and bring you some lemonade.” He took the glass of ice cold lemonade from Grace, “Well thank you ma’am, I am Tyler. Nice to meet you.” Tyler said with his southern accent. “Of course, nice to meet you too. Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” Grace said, heading back into the house.

Tyler stays on her mind as she helps her ma with dinner.

Grace stays on his mind as him and the guys herd cows.

And that’s how it would stay for days.

Staying on each other’s mind.

But never talking.

Please please let me know what y’all think.

[petruchio]

not to beat a dead horse but honestly the most annoying thing about lover is that there really is a great album in there if you look for it.

like first there’s the progression of light in the album. how we move from artificial with the “glow of the vending machine” and “the christmas lights (in) january” until all the light disappears while “i wake in the night/i pace like a ghost" and "i whisper in the dark." but somehow, light still manages to creep in even during the night: “the moon is high/like your friends were the night that we first met," until “the morning comes and you’re not my baby." still, the speaker holds out hope that the morning can bring the lover back, saying that “this ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight” so we end up in the daylight. in some ways, the whole album is an expansion of the single line "starry eyes sparking up my darkest night" from reputation. we see that line spiral out in real time as lover progresses.

and then there's everything that happens in cars (im drunk in the back of the car/we were in the backseat drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar/we can follow the sparks i’ll drive/cut the headlights, summers a knife/i want to drive away with you/show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride) which in itself is revisiting something that occupies of so much of taylor's early work. so much of debut and fearless take place in cars (just a boy in a chevy truck/i was riding shotgun with my hair undone/in the passenger seat you put your eyes on me) because cars are one of the few places where a teenager can be afforded privacy. in some ways, extreme and isolating fame is a form of ongoing childhood (i never grew up, it's getting so old) (there's this thing people say about celebrities, that they get frozen at the age they got famous) and it's against this background that cars again take on that same significance as they did in adolescence.

and then there's all the repeated imagery of city streets and traffic lights (i’d never walk cornelia street again/i ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright/he got my heartbeat skipping down sixteenth avenue/i'm new york city/you're the west village/as if the streetlights pointed in an arrowhead leading us home) because lover is a story about a person becoming a city and a city becoming a lover. welcome to new york -- but we are no longer talking about the city itself, because new york has become one with the object of lover's affection. so it's no wonder that the dead center of the album is cornelia street and dbatc. side a ends with cornelia street and side b begins with dbatc, because they're two sides of the same coin: it's the story of a physical place becoming so wrapped up with another person that the speaker realizes that if that person were to leave them, they could never experience in that place the same way again. "windows flung right open" turn into "i look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up." "we were a fresh page on the desk" turns into "if the story's over, why am i still writing pages?" the streetlights that once "pointed us home" now cannot even tell us if it's going to be alright anymore. while the speaker can "get mystified by how this city screams your name," they could just as easily "see you everywhere" because if it ends, "the only thing we share is this small town." if the lover leaves, the entire city will be ruined.

and that's the fear on which the whole album is centered. lover is not an album on love, but on anxiety. what do you do after you've realized that one person has the power to truly break you? that if they ever left you, the very city that once welcomed you, waited for you, and taught you "a new soundtrack" would be ruined forever by the mere memory of them? that's where we begin to understand lover: that anxiety. we start with so many questions: "i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?" "who could ever leave me darling? but who could stay?" in this context, "can i go where you go? can we always be this close?" is not just romantic, it's an indication of this same terror. the speaker isn't confident enough to know that they can be together -- they still feel the need to ask. lover being placed so early on the tracklist indicates that it's a song that still comes from a place of anxiety.

at some point, we find a false confidence: i think he knows and paper rings lay out a vision of love that sounds almost simplistic again. we don't need anyone but each other, "i ain't gotta tell him i think he knows" and "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings." the speaker tries to let go of the anxieties of cruel summer and the archer, but too soon, that cornelia street fear creeps in again. and so the speaker decides that the love must hold something false in it: "we might just get away with it" but "it's a false god." and eventually, inevitably, everything falls apart. and the speaker, so angry with themself for letting it happen again, returns to the questions we found earlier on the album: "why'd i have to break what i love so much?" there's an apology, and an acceptance that there has to be a stable friendship in order to make this work: "it's nice to have a friend" to have someone to "call my bluff," to admit that "you've been stressed out lately, yeah, me too." the lovers are able to be honest with each other here, to apologize, because they've built up a foundation of friendship underneath all the drama and anxiety and intensity of feeling we saw earlier in the album.

so after all this, when we finally reach the end, the realization is not that the love or the lover themselves is grand or beautiful or anything really. the realization is that the anxiety itself is what will ruin things: that's why the album ends with the lines "you gotta step into the daylight and let it go. just let it go." because after all this anxiety and stress and questioning, the only answer is to simply let it go. for the speaker to accept that the love is more important than the fear: "i want to be defined by the things that i love, not the things that i'm afraid of." and so the album ends, not with a statement of love for another person, but with a declaration about the self: i just think that you are what you love.

[e1igius]

@pohlepen she reaches over and plucks the cigarette from between his lips before he's even allowed a proper drag, ashing it out the car window before sticking it in her mouth. "what's this job about anyway? you're not usually so secretive." nosey as ever, she offers him an expectant look.

racing winds rage against the windows of the customized black chevy silverado. barreling down the freeway at speeds a little too fast for anyone to think of stopping it. the texan sits relaxed int he driver's seat , single marlboro resting between his lips , barely lit he's only been able to take the initial hit --- so distracted by things inside and outside the cab of the truck to pay attention to the vice of nicotine. he's busy thinking, or so he tells himself the reality quickly washing away the minute that he feels delicate fingers pull the cigarette from his mouth only to place it in her own. a single brow raises at the action for a moment , insulted she wouldn't even think of asking before taking it from him. ( he shouldn't have been surprised --- requesting permission wasn't exactly a part of this friendship ) still he hadn't even gotten to enjoy it.

the thoughts are washed away briefly by the question spoken over the roaring winds. he has to pay extra attention to catch it , and he considers for a moment raising the windows but doesn't. her hair looks nice dancing in the makeshift storm , and the feeling of the gust against his face is more relaxing than he'd like to admit. ❝ this one isn't for me , can't really share details. ❞ mostly because he doesn't have them. the explanation comes simply. huckleberry is usually in charge of his own targets , but the benefactor at times will guide him in the right direction. and often leaves him only a name with no explanation of their crimes , and the blonde knows better than to ask.

❝ the job's always the same. ❞ eyes light up behind tinted rose sunglasses and he pulls them down a little to catch her own , ❝ why ? you feelin' like participating this time ? ❞

[the-car-towing]

The maximum towing capacity of the 2006 Chevy Silverado 3500 is 16,700 lbs which is achievable with a Duramax Diesel engine.

The 2006 Silverado 3500 HD is available in Regular Cab, Extended Cab, and Crew Cab along with SRW (Single Rear Wheel), and DRW (Dual Rear Wheel). The towing capacity differs according to the cab type, engine configuration, and wheel size.

[the-firebird69]

This is what's going on in New York City they're mostly Chevy's and they're not full size and he doesn't want to do this he wants the full size Chevy sedan but brand new but stretched every single cab will be a stretch now it's not going to be a full stretch he says but it's going to look like a stretched and it's going to have the the essence of it and everything we get in the back it'll be seating for four or six instead of two or three and you can fit someone in the middle and there'll be something that comes down in the middle and they'll be places for cups and it makes less of a mess he says and it's true and he's going to have a TV there some of these do but not most and it's going to show things about New Vegas where you can stay you can make a reservation right there in the cab have the cab you just sit there while you do it off of the screen with your credit card on every single limo they're all going to be yellow cab and have the checkers on them es and it'll be limousine style and you can order a checker cab limo it's still yellow that's a full limousine stretch and has stuff in it or you can order and you can go by the mile but you can't stay in the facility for more than 15 minutes or so and they say you can use it as a stop and call it back but they will transport people in those two and you can order a black one by the hour and they're going to go ahead and do this it's an awesome idea and it's way ahead of us no we have weird stuff but it's not uniform they're going to have tons of these stretched yellow cabs tons of them and it's just like three and a half feet or 4 foot or so because you're putting in another seat facing backwards huge numbers of them they're going to start building them now

Mac Daddy this sounds so interesting I want to get involved instead of being a dick

I think I will too it's heavenly this stuff is crazy everybody's going to have a nice ride and there's usually three or four people in a group at least and you can squeeze in six and we're not huge I got to tell you this is a smart idea and they're going to be from up a little and they're going to look nice and this is crazy they'll have the ads on them from Vegas some of them will have like live billboards that we have I mean the crazy stuff and balloons going overhead just like in Los Angeles and it's probably where it comes from

Only get involved now and get a piece of the pie

Ben Arnold

Olympus

[kezikatescribbling]

Taken Over: Chapter 1: Broken Down (New)

Summary: Kate Lane runs into some car trouble. There is more than one breakdown.

Warnings: Slight peril, hint of grief

Chapter Select: 1 |

Or Read on AO3

In the darkness of a Midwest autumn night, a single pickup truck drives down a deserted highway in a small bubble of light. The driver, a young woman named Kate Lane, rolls her shoulders and stretches her neck, tilting her head side to side, her braid of long brown hair swishing across the top of her black leather jacket. She shivers slightly. The heater in the old truck barely puts a dent in the chill from the September night, and under her jacket is only a deep blue short sleeved t-shirt. An oversight on her part to not bundle up for the trip. ‘But I’d rather just suffer the cold than stop in the middle of nowhere to put on a sweater.’

The cab of the truck is quiet. Only the sounds of the tires on damp pavement, the droning hum of the engine, the dark surroundings whistling by outside the slightly fogged windows, and the steady tapping of rain. Kate looks at her watch and sighs. It’s late. She’s been on the road for hours now in the silence. And now in the dark. At least during the day she could pass the time with driving games, but now everything beyond the reach of the headlights is hidden in inky blackness.

The beat up old Chevy pickup had been surviving off elbow grease and a prayer for years. The radio had died about an hour after Kate left home, the electronics giving out so she couldn’t even listen to one of the ancient cassettes in the glove box. The past several hours in the dark have been a true test of patience and willpower. Holding back the boredom and the stinging, painful thoughts of everything she’s lost.

Home. That’s what she’s driving away from. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. It’s just a place. A home in name only without the true piece that made if feel like a place to come back to. The safety and comfort are gone. Now it’s just a house. The peeling paint and sticking windows of a hollowed out world devoid of meaning.

Kate bites her lip to keep it from quivering and dashes the back of her hand against her cheeks to clear the stinging, angry tears slipping from her eyes. Forces back the sobs. Doesn’t allow the agonized scream building in her chest to escape. ‘Breathe. Just breathe.’

That’s the part that she can’t get over. The meaning. She’s seen and been through enough shit to realize that not everything has a purpose. Shit happens and trying to figure out why is often a painful exercise in futility. Better to learn to cope and move on with life.

But this time. This time it feels like she deserves a fucking answer. Someone has to be at fault for this. There has to be someone to blame for this pain she’s feeling because if there was no reason then it was just all-

BANG

The truck shudders and groans as Kate hits the brakes and keeps a vice grip on the steering wheel to keep the thing steady. She shakily guides the truck to the side of the empty highway as it grinds to a halt. Lightning flashes in the distance. Rain tinks off the cab roof and slides in a wet curtain down the windshield. The headlights flicker off along with everything else. But before it goes dark Kate sees a line of smoke. ‘Fuck.’

Kate leans her head back and focuses on breathing. In and out. Slowly her heart rate comes down. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment in frustration then blows out a huff of air hits the release latch for the hood and opens the door into the pouring rain. ‘Dammit. What I wouldn’t give for an umbrella right about now.’

Kate walks around to the passenger side, opens the door and unzips the duffel bag on the seat. On the top are her bag of toilettrees, a flashlight and her pocket knife. She takes the light and knife and pops open the glove box to grab a road flare. ‘Whatever is wrong with the bucket of bolts, it’s probably not moving anytime soon.’

Kate walks down the deserted road a ways and pops the flare, a bright red light exploding to light with a hiss. She drops it on the pavement and walks back to the truck. In the beam of the flashlight the smoke is only a thin few lines, and once she opens it, after testing to make sure the metal wasn’t too hot, it clears. But it’s what she was afraid of. The electronics are toast. Burnt toast. Just what she needed. At least it wasn’t going to blow up.

A moment of rage takes over and she slams the hood down with a bang. Angry tears welling up again. ‘No. We are not fucking doing this. We are not breaking at the first thing that goes wrong.’ But that’s the thing, isn’t it? This isn’t the first thing that’s gone wrong. It’s been one thing after another after another. So when is it ok to break? Is there a set number of obstacles where no one looks twice at a breakdown? ‘Besides, it sounds too much like a bad joke to have a breakdown right after the car does.’

Whatever. She’ll just have to pencil in an existential pondering session for another time, because she refuses to fall apart in the middle of nowhere, alone, in a storm. Not today, thank you. Save it for the next disaster. Either way, standing here in the rain isn’t going to help anything.

Kate hops back into the car and gets out her map, trying her best to keep the water off the delicate paper. She runs her finger down the line of the highway, thinking back to the last mile marker she saw. Fucking fuck that’s a long way to the city. Kate lets her air out in a long steady stream as she packs the map away. That will be a hell of a hike. She’s up for it, but hopefully the rain will let up by morning.

For now she make herself as comfortable as possible on the bench. It’s not saying much. This truck was made for work, not comfort, and there’s little to none to be had on the cracked leather. ‘Just get yourself some shuteye sweetheart. It’ll all be brighter in the morning.’ The memory of the soft-spoken words is as much a jolt of pain as a source of comfort. One last warm tear falls just as Kate drifts into a light sleep.

_____

Awareness creeps back in with the sound of rain and distant thunder, the faint smell of burnt wires, old leather, and musty carpet sharpening as Kate takes a deep breath and blinks awake. It’s still dark outside, and checking her watch tells her it’s only been about 40 minutes. Kate goes through the motion of popping her joints as she checks her surroundings, and there, in the mirror, she sees what must have woken her up. A light. Two lights. Another car! And they’re heading in the same direction. Maybe they could give her a ride at least to the nearest gas station.

The road flare is still burning so they would definitely see her. But what if it was some creep. It’s not like there’s anyone around to help if some guy tries to shove her in a van. Thinking quick, Kate grabs the flashlight and knife and clips them onto her belt. At least she’ll have something within easy reach.

The car slows down when it gets close and comes to a stop next to the truck, the passenger side window rolling down to reveal a young man, barely lit by the dashboard lights. Kate rolls down her own window and blinks as the rain splatters on her face.

“Evening ma’am. Need some help?” ‘Did he just ‘ma’am’ me? We’re like the same age. Nice voice though. But you can be cute and still be a serial killer.’

“You happen to have a extra engine in your pocket?” Kate gestures to the front of the truck, ���Afraid that’s the only thing getting this thing going.” The man grins and pats around.

“Ah, damn, must have left my spare in my other pants. But I can give you a lift down the road. Where are you headed?”

Kate bites her lip and looks down both deserted directions of the road.

“Look, I can appreciate why you wouldn’t be in a hurry to get in the car with a stranger. I promise I’m not a psycho.” He holds up his hands, “I promise. You’re safe with me.”

Some part of Kate does actually feel comforted at the assurance, some instinct telling her that this is someone that can be trusted. After all she’s been through, she’s learned to trust that voice. Still.

“I’m pretty sure some psycho on the road isn’t going to feel bad about lying to a helpless woman.”

The man chuckles, “You’ve got a point there. But something tells me you’re anything but helpless.” Kate fights to hold back a grin. She grabs her duffel bag and jumps out of the truck and into the jeep once the man finishes clearing the passenger seat and opens the door.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Kate shivers as the heat from the interior hits her.

“Only the ones I meet on the side of the road in the middle of the night during a storm.”

“Have there been many like that?”

He grins at Kate, “Shockingly, you’re the first.” ‘Oh no he’s adorable. Keep it together Kate. It’s been like 2 minutes.’ “Buckle up. It is the law.”

Kate snorts but pulls the seat belt across her and clicks it into place, putting her bag between her feet, “What, are you a cop.”

“Yes actually.” Kate squints at him, trying to tell if he’s joking. The look of pride in his eyes tells her he’s not kidding.

“Huh. Well, it’s nice to meet you Officer...”

“Kennedy. Leon.” There’s that cute grin again.

“Leon. I’m Kate Lane.” He sticks his hand out and she shakes it. He’s got almost as many calluses as she does. He puts the jeep back in drive and continues down the road. “How are you so sure I’m not the killer maniac you just let into your car?” Kate grins at him playfully and raises an eyebrow when he looks her over thoughtfully.

“I guess I don’t. But I think I’ll take my chances.” Damn, that smile. After a moment of silence, “Besides, I think I could take you.”

“You sound so sure of that. Careful with that confidence Officer, it’ll get you into trouble someday. I’ll have you know I’ve been a faithful student of the Secret Arts for my whole life.”

“Secret Arts of what?”

“Well if I told you, they wouldn’t be very secret would they?”

Leon throws his head back and laughs, “I should have seen that one coming.”

“Exactly. What did I just tell you about getting cocky.”

“Alright, I admit defeat. But I demand a rematch soon. I’m curious about those secret skills of yours.” Kate feels her cheeks grow warm and she grins out her window. At least this night has one upside. Leon.

[lithiachevyofredding]

Get to Know the 2022 Chevy Colorado

1. Exterior and Interior

The new Colorado comes in ZR2, LT, Z71, and Work Truck trim configurations. Its height, length, and width with mirrors measure 70.4, 212.7, and 83.9 inches, respectively. Drivers have thrilling exterior color paints to choose from, including summit white, crush, bright blue metallic, cherry red tint coat, sand dune metallic, and more.

It seats four in the Extended Cab configuration and five in the Crew Cab models. Interior comfort features include a leather steering wheel, single-zone front air conditioning, front and rear cupholders, and front door pockets.

2. Powertrain Options

The base engine is a 2.5-liter four-cylinder delivering 200 hp and 181-pound feet of torque. It has a fuel economy rate of 19 mpg in the city and 24-25 mpg on the highway. You also get a 2.8-liter turbodiesel I-4 that produces 181 hp and 369-pound feet of torque. Its fuel economy is 19-20/ 28-30 mpg city/highway.

A 3.6-liter V-6 cranks 308 hp and 275-pound feet of torque while offering a fuel efficiency rate of 18/24-25 mpg city/highway. All these powerplants can use either a RWD or 4WD.

3. Infotainment and Connectivity

Your all-new Colorado provides an intuitive and user-friendly Infotainment 3 system to keep you entertained and connected while on the road. Standard infotainment features include a 7-inch touchscreen that connects with Apple Carplay and Android Auto, a six-speaker stereo, and satellite radio for all your music preferences.

You can also upgrade your ’22 Colorado with an 8-inch display, WI-FI hot spot, a seven-speaker B&O system, wireless charging pad, HD radio, and navigation.

4. Driver-Assistance Features

The all-new Colorado boasts a host of modern driver-assistance features to help you reach your destinations safely. Each model offers a rearview camera, dusk-sensing headlamps, daytime running lights, tire pressure monitor, traction, and stability control. Teen Driver will enable you to set speed and audio volume limits for secondary drivers.

The available cruise control maintains the speed set by the driver without external interference. The forward collision warning scans the road ahead and alerts you of a potential collision with a slower-moving or stationary car. Other available driver-aid features are rear parking sensors and lane departure warning.

Your new Colorado delivers a spectacular performance wherever you choose to explore. The ZR2 trim is off-road oriented and can handle the toughest terrain you present to it. Also, the ’22 Colorado features a high ground clearance and robust engines to give you an enjoyable driving experience. Visit us at Lithia Chevrolet of Redding to get a Chevy that suits your requirements.

[volkswagenbussen]

1960 Volkswagen Single cab

M2 machines like to introduce you to the latest Exclusive M2 Machines O’Reilly Auto Parts set heading to stores around the USA now.  The set includes a 1960 Volkswagen Single Cab Truck, 1969 Plymouth Barracuda, 1932 Ford Three Window Coupe, 1969 Chevy Camaro, 1975 Chevrolet Silverado and a 1987 Ford Mustang GT. Each piece comes wrapped in an individualized matching themed box further enhancing…

[chris-riviers]

2017 Nissan Titan XD

Allow me to preface this with a declaration... I ABSOLUTELY HATE THIS TRUCK NOW AND COMPANY. Not just the local Nissan dealership because we all know dealerships suck. But all the way up the the regional office in TN. They care absolutely nothing about issues with their trucks, and cover ups the local dealers do to sale the vehicle.

          When purchasing my 2017 Nissan Titan XD, I did as most SHOULD do but only few actually do. I looked for as much information and as many reviews as I could possibly find, as well as looked into prices for things like regular maintenance costs, upgrade costs, MPG and so on. What I found is, this is a grossly under-rated truck! Noone is buying them, and I can in fact see why. On the other hand, I don’t see why not! If you factor out to BS the dealer gives you (like Bender and Hamilton here locally) it is a pretty awesome truck, of course with it’s own ups and downs. I want to share some of these with you.

          First, let me break down what I actually look for in a vehicle, and what I do my best to avoid. To me, I am past the age where I care what anyone else thinks, I am not buying the truck to look cool or get featured in some magazine, so the first thing I look at is the condition and comfort of the area where I am the most… the cab! The 2017 Nissan Titan XD (sv) has the cab space equivalent to the Ford super crews, Chevy true crew cab, and just a little shy of the older Dodge megacab. I get a center console that has ample storage, albeit a little impractical with limited organization opportunity, which includes one smaller pocket on both sides of it, a semi-tiered deep open storage area under the cup holders which you can move from and back. A small pocket in from of that, below the usb/12v charging ports, that’s too shallow to stand a phone up in, and to narrow to lay a Samsung Galaxy s21+ in on its side. Then a MASSIVE covered storage bin what can easily fit 2 or 3 coats, possible a 24pk of soda, several pairs of shows, or two 30mm ammo cans with room on top. Behind the center console padded arm rest, another 2 drink holders. See more photos here on my IG.

          All four doors come with 2 bottle holds, and a decent pocket that trails them. The glove box is typical size for a truck, and just a single unlike the chevy. I get a great sized sunglass storage box up above, where a mini LED is always on when the truck is running (little annoying), the rear sliding glass opener, Bluetooth microphone, map lights and light control. The rear passengers will find amazing leg room (6ft person’s opinion) that can easily seat 3 adults. They get their own air vents, awkwardly located a little lower than one would think considering the are controlled with the “body” selection when choosing airflow ducts, under that is a convenient 110 outlet that is controlled with a button left of the steering wheel. If there are only two passengers, they will have the benefit of a fold out arm rest with 2 additional cup holders. Under the rear seats is a built-in storage area that is a little on the awkward side in shape. The driver side is approximately 12”x12, with two dividers that can be added and create two 4”x12” bins (one divider is oddly right next to the box wall). While the passenger side take up almost the rest of the 60/40 split, with a weird cutout that is supposed to be for a rifle barrel (or 2) which leaves a little more dead space than is to be desired. The back of the rear seats also folds down! Which open more storage availability for thinner items like jackets, rain gear, spare tire tools, portable jumper or jumper cables and more! However, this pretty awesome fact has 2 draw backs, first being no ability to slide the rear seat forward and back, which limits the girth of what can be placed behind the seat, and the location for the latch is almost dead-center of the backrest, which limits the ability to put jackets, tacti-cool accessories and things of the type on the back of the seat itself unless you are willing to cut the center out or push whatever you are handing to the side. See what I mean here on my IG.

          Up front for the feature controls… starting from the left, you have your basic 4 position light selector (off, auto, parking, on) along with your cluster dim/increase and trip reset buttons. Just underneath that you have a fog light button, ac 120v outlets button, and cargo light button. You can see the majority of them in the photos provided, they are pretty standard with the exception of heated seats, blindspot, park assist and traction control buttons. Steering wheel controls are pretty easy to access, although there could be a little improvement. The most annoying the driver and vehicle information center controls, that choose to work when they want. The cruise control also lease a little to be desired. Overall, I do give them a 3.5 out of 5 stars though.

          The bed comes with 5 of Nissans tie down tracks along with 4 of their adjustable tie down points, as well as the typical 4 welding points on the lower four corners of the bed, and 2 tracks on the floor that have a rubber strip inside that can be removed and allow the tie-down points to be utilized there if so desired. I personally feel this option is a little useless. You have to remove the entire rubber strip which allows for dirt, debris, mud, grit and grim to make that track a living hell. The 5 tracks around the upper insides of the bed (two on each side and one on the bulkhead), can be inverted which would allow for MOST tonneau covers. I am not sure if it is select trims, but my SV came with three holes that have removable caps that allow for gooseneck hitch and security chain attachments (that did not come with the truck) which is pretty awesome, as well as another 120v outlet on the drive-side, inside of the bed! A backup camera, running boards, rear window smoke and front and rear parking assist came stock, but are extremely sensitive and annoying! The camera is nice and clear, but I am a mirror man through and through, but when kids leave their bikes out it is pretty nice to have.

            The motor: A new 5.6-liter Endurance V8 engine was added to the TITAN XD lineup in the middle of 2016, backed by a 7-speed automatic transmission. Cast, forged and assembled at Nissan's Powertrain Assembly Plant in Decherd, Tennessee, the 5.6-liter Endurance V8 engine features four-valves per cylinder, Variable Valve Event & Lift and Direct Injection, and is rated at approximately 390 horsepower @ 5,800 rpm and 394 lb-ft of torque @ 4,000 rpm. The new  engine also features Nissan's advanced VVEL (Variable Valve Event & Lift) technology, which combines hydraulic-controlled variable valve timing and electronically controlled variable valve lift on the intake and exhaust sides to provide high performance and crisp response.

Throttle response is enhanced by directly controlling the intake valve, rather than using the traditional method of controlling intake with a throttle valve, and valve timing and opening with non-variable camshafts. The engine also features Direct Injection Gas (DIG™) technology, which provides better wide-open throttle performance and improved fuel economy and emissions performance (versus a non-direct-injection system) by reducing engine knock, improving combustion stability and offering precise injection control.

          Moderate fuel consumption should expected. With the 5.6l V8 7sp transmission and a throttle that is as touchy as this, it is very easy to burn through a quarter tank quickly if you don’t put yourself in check. The 5.6l does require a higher-octane fuel as well, so don’t just automatically go putting in that e-85, and definitely make a stop at the auto store a HIGH PRIORITY to get some fuel additive to clean out that cheap shit the dealers put in! Because why would they care, they only won’t your money and don’t think about treating the vehicles properly; if anything, they try to abuse them to get you to come back for service! Be prepared to pay a premium for fuel (because it is premium). The 26-gallon tank will eat up every bit of 80.00 (prices vary with local fuel costs). Or, if you are in a farming/AG area with local stations that do not add the ethanol, you can opt for the cheaper fuel, being lower octane, but still place on making that stop and getting the fuel additives beforehand. You will need a fuel system cleaner, as well as an octane booster still for the best performance. A vehicle is an excellent example of “you get what you pay for”, especially when it comes to maintenance and upkeep.

          After a little more time with the truck and some additions to her, I will update everyone. Overall, though, I am very pleased with the truck! It doesn’t ride as smooth as a Chevy, but still have a nice ride. It offers room for the family, storage, and the dogs love the spray on texturing in the back which greatly reduces their slipping and sliding. Nissan did cheap out a bit and just went with the plastic ribbed protector on the tailgate which my dogs absolutely hate! Being as tall as it is, only 2 of them can jump up and clear the gate, making it directly into the bed where they also jump out from. The other two, can’t quite make the cute so we lift them up, but they still don’t like being set down on the funky plastic first. My first mod is coming tomorrow (28 Sept. 2021) and it will be my window tinting. To see photos of the truck inside and out, stop by and follow me on FB or IG where I will be posting updated photos as things progress, and where you can reach out with questions for the quickest responses!

          I apologize for the length of this post, but this is something I wish I would have been able to find before I bought my truck. I am also one of those that absolutely HATES skimming and reading through forums! I will also start working on some Youtube videos that I will come back and link to as they go up. But again, those will be easier to see and get updated about on other social platforms. If you have any other questions or would like to see something, or information that I did not cover, reach out and I will be glade to help you out!

[immortalmuses]

ㅤㅤㅤAh. she's negotiatin'.. Logan thinks with a chuckle (and no small amount of pride). ..I can work with that.

ㅤㅤㅤ“..Sure, kid. A banana split does sound pretty good right now, actually.” And it's got fruit, so Logan can claim it was at least kinda healthy when Kurt grills him later. Pointing a finger at TJ, the Canuck smirks, “..but the cherries are all goin' on yer half. Deal?”

ㅤㅤㅤTipping his chin towards the garage door off the kitchen, Logan leads Nocturne out of the X-Mansion's interior to its spacious multi-vehicle garage bay. He doesn't pause at any of the hi-tech rides favored by the team for missions, but instead bee-lines for an old Chevy pickup truck at the far end.

ㅤㅤㅤIt's a 1970 C10 Silverado, Logan's own pride and joy for more than few decades. The truck sports a boxy, upright chassis in robin's egg blue (faded from years of use, but still not that far off from the shade of Kurt's TJ's skin) and a wide leather bench seat in its single cab.

ㅤㅤㅤLogan opens the door on the passenger side for his companion, hooking a thumb at the open road beyond the garage. “--C'mon, let's blow this popsicle stand fer a while."

Her little face screwed into more of a skeptical expression. Talia knew when she was being bribed -- it was the love language of anybody who didn't know how to deal with kids, especially one particularly nosy little girl -- but the dynamic was entirely different if it was Logan trying it. He didn't normally attempt to buy her off, so they both knew he was knee-deep already.

Then again, she didn't get many opportunities to go places with just Logan. Kurt handled the handoffs, when she'd spend her alternating weekends with her mother. Though those often ended up being with somebody else, if Wanda was busy. Uncle Pietro was usually fun, especially if he had Luna visiting too, but sometimes she wound up sitting in the Avengers mansion playing checkers with Mr. Jarvis.

Logan was usually the one busy with missions.

"... Can it be a 'nana split instead?" she asked. "With cherries?"

[words-are-fireproof]

The Polar Express - Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: You and Frankie end up in a bookshop in Denver. He admits he doesn't care for bookshops, but he surprises you in the end.

Rating: G

Warnings: Fluffy as sin, hopefully. That's all. Just super fluffy.

A/N: All my stuff is unedited which is probably not good but here we are. Hope you enjoy. It's my first time writing for Frankie.

Edited to add: This will be part of Country Roads, Take Me Home.

Word Count: 1.8k

[Masterlist]

-----

Frankie loves the snow. He hates the cold, but he loves the snow. He loves the snow even more now that his baby girl is old enough to really appreciate it.

He can’t count the number of times he’s been outside with her, her dark and wild curls, so reminiscent of his, sticking out from under her unicorn beanie, getting damp from melted snow. She insists on making snow angels every single time a fresh blanket of snow falls at night, and he wasn’t about to deny her a little bit of joy in her life, no matter how fleeting it seemed to him. 

He tries not to think about that. He tries not to think about the fact that she doesn’t get to stay with him all the time, the result of a horrible divorce following the disaster in South America, but he pushes that aside. He doesn’t need anyone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anyone. His gaze drifts to you, your pretty hair blowing in the warm heater air, your eyes sparkling in the gray light of the day. The two of you haven’t been together long. He still didn’t consider the two of you to be together in the traditional sense. That’s okay. He didn’t mind and he didn’t think you minded either. 

But despite that, the two of you find yourselves in Denver. He’s not sure why. His old blue Chevy just seemed to steer itself there, and despite the slight chill that permeates the cab of his truck, he’s looking forward to spending the day with you. And he can’t quite stop the smile tugging at the ends of his lips. Your hand, so small in his, feels nice and warm as he holds it between the two of you. He glances down from the road toward the cracked leather bench seat and he can’t help but feel…calm. At peace. It’s a big change from the way he normally feels, his chest tight with anxiety, his stomach perpetually hurting as he thinks of where he’s been and where he might end up. 

But he has you and he has a day to spend in the city with you. It’s a change from the quiet life on the farm and the chores that come with wintering cows, pigs, and chickens. Not that those chores were completely off the table. You’d just already completed them when he suggested you both go out and have a little fun. The suggestion surprised him as much as it surprised you, but neither of you complained. Not at all. 

He parked his truck in front of a bookshop, snow beginning to fall thick and heavy outside, almost obscuring the bright red front door of the shop, the interior of the building glowing golden in the dim light outside. 

Your eyes brighten as you peer over at him, tilting your head to one side as you regard him. His heart melts, a wave of dizzy giddiness washing over him. He clears his throat to hide it, feeling weird for being so happy at this moment of time. 

“Frankie,” you breathe out excitedly. “This place is so pretty. How did you know about it?” 

He chuckled. “Will told me about it.” 

“I thought Will didn’t like bookshops.” 

“He doesn’t, but he knows you do.” 

If he stares at your face for any longer, he’s afraid he’ll break down and open himself up to you. It was a dangerous slope he didn’t want to be on. He knew more about you than you knew about him, but neither of you were complaining. If you wanted to, you were keeping quiet about it, and Frankie wasn’t about to start complaining. If he did, then you’d know his secrets. Those secrets could make or break whatever this was. He didn’t want that. 

Your voice pulls him from the doldrums of his thoughts. 

“Come on. I want to go inside,” you tug on his sleeve eagerly and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Alright, alright. Let’s go.” He let go of your hand, sliding from the truck and rounding it with the intention of opening the door for you, but you beat him. “Baby,” he sighs as you meet him in front of the truck. 

“What?” You put on the most innocent face you can muster. “I’m excited. Aren’t you?” 

He palms the back of his neck. “I’m not a big book store person, querida.” 

Your face falls and, once again, he tries not to look at you for too long. “Oh. That’s okay. I won’t be long.” 

You bound in happily and immediately make a beeline for the fiction books. He watches you, trying to keep his emotions at bay, but Frankie feels them percolating up in chest, a lump in his throat as he thinks about the words he told you. I’m not a bookstore person. He could curse. He’s not a bookstore person, but he didn’t have to tell you that. Why couldn’t he lie? Why couldn’t he find some sort of other excuse that didn’t land quite like those words did? 

He sighs to himself and thinks he should look around while you do. You didn’t look angry when you walked inside, but he saw the disappointment in your eyes. His heart squeezes in his chest as he turns on his heel to find something that interests him. It wasn’t that he didn’t read. He liked to read, but he wasn’t the type to spend hours in a bookstore shopping to his hearts’ content. He didn’t like shopping for anything. Not even the farm, not even for himself. This was no different. 

He glances out a nearby window to see the fat, fluffy flakes of snow streak past in a sudden gust of wind. His lips tug up into a smile. He wonders what his baby girl is doing right this second. He wishes you all could be making snow angels at the farm together, but he quiets that thought in his mind as he finds the military history section near the back of the bookshop. He flips through a few books, wondering what you might be finding before he wanders off some more, trying to shake off that memory of your disappointment. 

—

You’re not sure how long you linger in the fiction section. You miss his warmth at your side and his hand around yours. You know he doesn’t mean to hurt you. You don’t even know why you’re hurt. You know what he’s like, all rough around the edges and quiet. Different. Different than anyone else you’ve ever been with. You try not to let that bother you as you also flip through books, reading the backs of novels and blurbs. You don’t know when publishing companies decided to stop putting summaries on the backs of books, but you hate when they don’t any more. It’s annoying. 

You sigh and push a hardback back onto the shelf. Your gaze flits around at your immediate area but you don’t see his vintage ball cap anywhere. A frown tugs down at the edges of your lips. Where could he be? 

You pad around in different sections, looking for the ones you think he’ll be in. History. Military. Sporting goods. He’s not in any of them. You sigh again, tilting your head as you wonder where he is. You hadn’t heard the little bell over the door tinkle since you’d gotten there. Any one who was smart enough was at home, snuggled under blankets and hiding in front of fireplaces. So, you knew he hadn’t left without you. Your frown deepens. Where is he? 

You try not to let the panic rise in your throat as you round a corner into the children’s books. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by books, is none other than Frankie Morales. The sight startles you, but you know it shouldn’t. The frown you were sporting while trying to find melts into a smile. Butterflies start flapping in your stomach. You two might not be labeling anything, but you feel a surge of happiness and something singing through your veins. Was it love? It was too early to tell. 

You stand there for a long while, watching as he sorts through books, mostly aimed at little girls. You’d only met Frankie’s little girl once, but you knew he loved her and she loved him. You can’t imagine what it must feel like to be separated from a child. You’ve never had any children and you’re not sure you want to give birth to any, but you can’t help but feel love in your heart for the little curly haired girl Frankie calls his own. You tried not to, but he’d spoken about her with such adoration, you couldn’t help it. Plus, seeing him surrounded by children’s books, trying to find the perfect one to give her, made your chest ache with happiness. He looked so out of place in his hat and button down and cargo trousers but it still made you practically giddy. 

“I thought I lost you,” you murmur affectionately. 

He jumps, big brown eyes lifting to meet yours almost sheepishly. “Lo siento. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You shake your head. “You didn’t scare me.” You step forward, avoiding books, and sit down beside him. It’s a lie and you know it. “I thought you didn’t like bookshops,” you tease playfully. 

He laughs, the sound filling you up from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head. “I don’t.” 

“I dunno. I think you might be lying.” 

He doesn’t touch that tease. Instead, he nudges you gently in the arm with his. “What do you think Selena would like?” 

You survey the pile of books thoughtfully. “How old is she, again?” 

“She just turned three.”

“I don’t know a thing about kids,” you say as you continue to look around. “She likes the snow. What about something about a snowman?” 

He gasps, his eyes lighting up in the dim light of the shop. “What about the Polar Express?” 

You nod eagerly. “You could try it.” 

He finds it half hidden underneath a few other books and hugs it to his chest. You melt. You can’t help it. He is so cute. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. She’s going to love it.” 

“You think?” He asks cautiously but you know he’s not going to relinquish that book for anything.

You plant a little kiss to his bearded cheek. “Yeah. Plus, it won’t really matter. You’re the one going to read it to her. She’ll love it just for that.” 

His face breaks out into a wide smile, the dimple deepening in his right cheek. “Perfect,” he begins, then looks around at the mess he made, “I guess we should clean this up.” 

You laugh. “Probably a good idea.” 

So the two of you begin shelving books, but really, it’s just you as he clings to The Polar Express tightly, not willing to part with it at all. You don’t mind. You just never thought you’d see a grown man clutching a Christmas book so tightly. But for some reason, for him, it just makes sense.