resolution road

Shut Up and Drive

This one is for @misswhizzy - hope you enjoy <3

You were laid back in Dean’s arms, crammed between him and the steering wheel, kissing him lazily, Dean’s breathing slowing, his muscles gradually relaxing from the fantastic orgasm you’d just given him.  

You had both been working all day, full-on fed suits and badges, clipped questions and Dean’s official-looking glare, trying to intimidate the truth out of the few witnesses that had seen what had happened.  Turned out it had been a hoax, a bunch of idiotic teenagers trying to freak out their friends, and Dean had done a good job of scaring them right out of ever thinking of doing such a thing in the future.  He had been pissed off when you had climbed into Baby together, frustrated at the waste of time and the fact that he’d been wearing that damned suit all day long.  He hadn’t seemed to mind you in the skirt, though, because his eyes had traveled over you at every opportunity.

You had tried talking, but he had been in a mood, his FBI persona manifesting itself as if it were real, and you had finally given up, looking out the window as he had turned the music up a little more.  You had almost decided to lean against the window and grab a nap on the way home, but you hadn’t been able to keep your eyes from his profile, that stubbled jaw line, the almost pouty set of his lips as he had stared straight ahead at the road.

You had slid over close to him, snuggling up on his shoulder, and he had given you a crooked little smile as he had put his arm around you, pulling you close as you had kicked off your heels and pulled your legs up beside you on the seat. You had let your hand rest on his thigh, the rock hard muscle there warming your blood a little from just that simple touch.  You had stretched up, nuzzling your nose against his scruff, reaching for his tie and loosening it slightly, undoing the top couple of buttons on his shirt and then kissing his neck.  "What’re you doing?“ he had asked, a little growl in his voice, but you hadn’t let him intimidate you.  You had just smiled, then continued, kissing and nipping at his neck as your hand had returned to knead his thigh, stroking from his knee up to his groin, smiling as you had felt his growing arousal.  "Liz.  I’m driving here.”

“Yes, you are.  And you always say you’re the best driver around, so why don’t you prove it?  If you can’t focus, you can always pull over.  I’d understand if you couldn’t handle it.”  You had thrown down the gauntlet, and his eyes had narrowed as he had glanced over at you.

“Baby, I can take anything you can dish out.”

And so the game began.

You had unbuttoned his shirt a little more, taken off his tie and tossed it in the back seat, and had moved your hand beneath his shirt while you had continued kissing and biting at his neck.  Your fingers had brushed over his nipples, teasing at him until they were hard as little pebbles, and you had wished you could just rip the shirt from him and attack them with your tongue and teeth.  But he was driving.  Sigh.  So you had contented yourself with using your fingers and nails gently, loving the occasional sharp intake of breath it had elicited from him. The bulge in in his suit pants had grown immensely in that few moments, and finally you had taken your hand from his shirt and let it glide slowly up the length of his thigh until you could squeeze him gently.

“Fuck, Liz,” he had growled, his hips shifting a little in the seat as you had slid his zipper down.  He had been fully hard, his black boxer briefs straining to contain him, and you had smiled as you had petted him like a puppy.  "Son of a bitch, babe, you’re killin’ me,“ he had moaned, and you had let out a breathy little laugh as you had brushed your lips over his ear.

"You seem to have a little problem here, agent.  I may have to investigate further,” you had whispered, and he had twitched under your hand, a low groan vibrating from his chest.  You had coaxed him to raise up off the seat just enough to get his pants down to the middle of his thighs, then you had run your nails lightly along the waist of his boxers, sending a shudder through him, goosebumps raising over his skin as you had finally slipped your fingers under the waistband and worked the last barrier out of your way.

You had sat up for a moment, removing your jacket and tossing it to the back seat, unbuttoning one more button on your crisp, white blouse, smiling again as Dean had cursed under his breath.  Then you had hitched your skirt up your thighs so you could kneel on the seat, stretching out a little so you could get in position, trailing  your fingers over his velvety smooth head before letting your tongue follow suit.  You had pressed little kisses down his length, then licked him from base to tip, and looked up at him through your lashes.  "I think you have a fever, agent.  And some swelling.  You may need treatment.“

"Stop fucking teasing, Liz,” he had managed to say, his voice tightly controlled, and you had run your hand over his steadily leaking tip, coating your palm and taking hold of him as you had smiled.

“Yes, sir.”  Without further warning, you had taken him in your mouth, and his hips had bucked up a little at the sudden sensation.  You had sucked as you moved back up, swirling your tongue around the head and over the slit, both of you moaning as you had tasted him.  You had begun moving in earnest, taking him in as far as you could as your hand gripped and stroked the rest, sucking hard as you moved up each time.  He had sworn, his voice wrecked, and turned off the highway, pulling over into a shallow ditch and throwing the car in park.
It hadn’t taken much longer after that, you had been determined to give him one of the best orgasms of his life, and you hadn’t disappointed.  He had come with a shout and several little growled curses, his fingers gently tangled in your hair as you had swallowed him down.  Then he had pulled you up into his arms and kissed you, and several minutes later, you were still there.

You nibbled at his jaw, your arms still around his neck, and then leaned back to look into his heavy-lidded green eyes.  "Well, you almost made it,“ you teased, a victorious little smirk on your lips.  His eyebrow raised as he stared back at you, a predatory gleam dawning in those forest green eyes.  

"Well, ‘agent’ - you can dish it out.  But can you take it?”  He sat you upright, then reached for the door, stepping out as he tucked himself back in and zipped up.  He reached for your hand, and you hesitantly took his as he helped you out of the car.  He pulled you against him, hard, kissing you fiercely as his hand pulled at your skirt until he was underneath, fingers gliding up your thigh and slipping beneath your panties to cup your ass and squeeze.  He kissed you breathless, then stepped back abruptly and smirked before climbing back into the car, sliding over into the middle as he patted the driver’s seat.  "Let’s go.“

Oh, shit.  This was a bad idea.  You were already riled up from pleasuring him, and he was dying for revenge.  But he wasn’t giving you a choice, so you squared your shoulders, raised a cocky eyebrow at him, and climbed in behind the wheel, turning the key.  He just watched you as you pulled back onto the road and headed back to the highway, but as soon as you hit the pavement, his hand was gliding up your thigh.  You focused with every fiber of your being on that stretch of road in front of you, determined to keep it together.

You hit 60 mph, your abdominal muscles contracting as Dean’s fingers moved to the inside of your thigh, then fluttering lightly over your rapidly dampening panties, so lightly that you barely felt it at first.  But he increased the pressure as he stroked between your legs, leaning over to whisper in your ear.  "Liz, baby, you’re already wet for me.  How are you gonna make it home?”  He nibbled at your earlobe, slipping his fingertips beneath your panties and letting out an evil chuckle at your soft gasp.

“I hate you,” you ground out between your teeth, and he laughed softly again.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said, his tongue sweeping around the shell of your ear before his lips began to nibble at your neck.  His index finger was dipping shallowly into you,  and he moaned softly, sending a shiver through you.  "Watch it, babe, you’re - uh - speeding a little.“

You glanced at the speedometer, taking a deep breath as you tried to refocus and back off the almost 80 mph that you were traveling.  Damn it.  "Dean, not fair.”

He slid his finger in deeper, nipping at your neck.  "Oh, really…  Seems to me you’re the one who had an unfair advantage.  You got to use your mouth.  I’d love to use mine, Liz.  All you have to do is say, “You win,” and pull the car over. I’ll make you feel so good, baby.“  He was sucking a mark into your neck, and you fought to keep your eyes from closing at the bliss of his lips on you, his finger plunging deeper and deeper into you.  And then he sat up, leaning over a little as he put his other hand up your skirt, and grasping your panties in both hands, he tore them apart.  "Much better,” he purred into your ear, settling back against the seat and cupping your sex in his hand, his thumb brushing over your clit as a strangled noise escaped your throat.  "Give up?“

"Fuck, no.”

You could feel him grin as he continued to kiss your neck, and then you stiffened for a moment as he slowly, so slowly, slid two fingers inside, and you could feel yourself clench against them as he let out a loud sigh.  "You are so wet for me, baby.  Do you know how crazy that makes me?  I want to taste you, Liz, I need to taste you.  Come on, baby just give in.“

Your teeth were clenched hard, your knuckles white as you held the steering wheel in a death grip, your eyes staring resolutely at the road as you fought to keep your composure.  "No!”

He nuzzled his nose in your hair and whispered, “Okay.  Have to up the ante, I guess.”  He moved his left arm from behind you, reaching over and somehow making it look easy to backhandedly unbutton your white blouse, pulling it free from the waist of your skirt, and then slipping your bra strap down your shoulder far enough to pull the cup down, exposing your breast.  Oh, damn, he was really determined to win.

He moved his body over farther on the seat and leaned in to take your already almost painfully hard nipple between his plush lips, laving it with his tongue as he mirrored the rhythm he was rubbing over your clit.  You were beginning to tremble, stubbornly refusing to cave in, but when his teeth nipped at you and he sucked the sensitive nub hard into the heat of his mouth at the same time he curled his fingers inside you, you whimpered like a child and took the gravel road turn-off at a speed that normally would have alarmed you.  You stopped in the middle of the road, slamming the car into park, and ground out the words he was demanding, “You win, okay?  You win!”

“That’s my girl,” he said, grinning, but the heat in his eyes showed that he was just as relieved as you were.  He kissed you hard, his hand cupping your breast and kneading at it as he removed his hand from between your legs, and he helped you turn, pulling your legs to the seat as he reached to the back for your jackets, tucking them behind you to cushion your head.  

You were half-sitting against the driver’s side door, one arm draped over the back seat for support as he worked your skirt up, somehow cramming himself into the space left and lowering his head between your thighs.  Both of you were moaning, breathing hard in the small space as he licked over you, murmuring, “God, you’re so sweet,” before moving to nip gently at your clit and then sucking it hard as he  plunged his two fingers back inside you.  He sent you, whimpering, into an orgasm so intense that you couldn’t breathe for a moment, your thighs clamped tight around his head as he savored the taste of your release flooding over his tongue.  

You felt him kissing your inner thigh, carefully pulling your skirt down to cover you  as you slowly regained more awareness.  He placed a gentle kiss on your exposed breast, then put your bra back  in place and buttoned your blouse again as you watched him, your body still unwilling to move.  He took your hand and pulled you upright, cradling you in his arms as he bent to kiss your lips softly. “Want me to drive the rest of the way home?” he asked, smiling, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Once the two of you got rearranged, he put an arm around you and headed back to the highway with you cuddled up on his shoulder.  "Glad you finally admitted that I won, Liz.  You should know better than to mess with the master,“ he teased.  

You snuggled a little closer, letting your eyes drift shut as you smiled.  "Just shut up and drive.”

Part 2 - Or We Could Park - Parking Is Good, Too

archiveofourown.org
CAN'T GO BACK NOW
a jolymes n fugio n gen fic
By Organization for Transformative Works

“No, no, he was not the devil. It is just that he was called Diavolo. … Well, maybe he was, I don’t know,” Giorno says. “Bene, he was the… director? Of Passione.”

“Boss,” Fugo supplies him. “He was the boss.”

Giorno snaps his fingers at Fugo gratefully. “He was the boss. I should not care about him personally except that he made Passione sell drugs, and weapons. That’s no good, you know.”

Jolyne slides her eyes over to Hermès, who is very resolutely looking at the road. She bites her lip. Jolyne thinks about the dime bag of weed currently sitting in the glove compartment. “Oh, yeah, for sure.”


Giorno and Fugo visit the Florida crew. Jolyne figures some stuff out about herself, her dad, and Hermès.

ITS REALLY GOOD.. im rly proud of it.. go go go

My road to happiness in 2016:
1. Compliment at least one person every single day. 
2. Point out one thing I like about myself each time I look into a mirror. 
3. Start replacing negative thoughts with a positive thought. 
4. Do one thing every day that frightens me or is outside of my comfort zone. 
5. Stop falling in love with strangers, fall in love with myself instead.
6. Smile more.
—  m.t.//it’s time for me to be happy

“Dean.”

“Hmm?”

“I know you’re awake. I can tell when you’re watching me.”

Dean opens his eye more than the crack he’d been sneaking his thousandth glance at Cas through.

“I can’t believe you’re driving my car,” Dean mutters sleepily. It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

Cas glances over and frowns at him before quickly looking back at the miles of empty, straight road stretching ahead of them, still driving like a dork, Dean thinks. “If you’re worried about me crashing the car, I won’t,” he says grumpily. “The next town is still at least two hours away, but I could wake Sam and let him drive.”

“’S not that,” Dean mutters, sinking lower in the passenger seat and shifting around to try and get comfortable, dancing on the edge of sleep. He closes his eyes again, hoping to trick himself into sleeping.

“Then what is it?” Cas asks, still sounding resentful about his driving being so closely monitored.

Dean cracks his eyelids apart before he can help himself, and stares across the front seat to Cas behind the wheel. It shouldn’t have been a big deal but it really is; watching Cas resolutely watching the empty road, both hands on the wheel, determined to bear them safely on their way with all his usual intensity, to the point of absurdity about how seriously he’s taking the task, and there’s just something about him being the one driving Dean’s car…

All drugged up with the kind of tiredness from hitting the road in a kind of driven-out-of-town-after-a hunt-way and then driving non-stop for twelve hours, followed by two more hours drifting right on the cusp of sleeping if not for watching Cas, Dean isn’t really paying much attention to his own mouth.

“S’ kinda hot.”

There’s one of the heaviest silences in his life as Dean slowly registers what he said and he jerks awake like he’d been slapped.

At least, he thinks somewhat hysterically as he meets a gaze boggling at him in shock, he finally made Cas take his eyes off the road for more than a second.

voubledision  asked:

Road trip!!!! (Prompt #3 I'm so sorry I will stop)

Felicity sighed as the jangling bell announced her exit from the gas station convenience store, a pair of sweating soda bottles in her hands as she made her way towards the cringingly ostentatious deep-blue Aston Martin DB9 convertible.

Oliver was just replacing the gas cap when she rounded the front end towards the passenger seat.

He smiled at her in the summer heat, the v-necked dark gray tee shirt he wore clinging to him in all the right, really inconvenient places.

Grumbling to herself, she yanked open her door and slid into her seat, setting their sodas in the cupholders as he climbed behind the wheel. Felicity buckled her seatbelt and shook her head at Oliver while he got the engine purring. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”

He huffed a silent laugh, shaking his head in return as he put them back on the road and into the exit lane for the interstate. “So you keep saying. Felicity, if you didn’t want me to come, you should have said so.”

“No,” she protested, a little whiny. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to come, of course I’d want you to come if you wanted to come, and—and you were pretty insistent about coming, so of course you’re going to come—” His lips were doing that suspicious tuck between his teeth as his eyebrows slowly crept up his forehead, eyes resolutely on the road. Felicity sucked in a loud breath and felt her cheeks color. “—And I’m going to stop using the word coming and—and come, now.”

"That would be my preference,” he murmured, amused.

Catching his reference, she stuck her tongue out at him, the heat in her cheeks getting more intense. “Anyways. I just… I didn’t even want to do this, really, but I kind of have to, because I promised. Even though my ten year high school reunion is the last place I want to be, ugh.”

“I still can’t believe you graduated at 16,” he interjected, a little amazed.

She ignored him. “And you really don’t want to be there, trust me, these people are awful, and they’d have eaten you up before, when you were a hotshot CEO. Now?” She stared out the windshield, sinking in her seat and blowing out noisily between her lips. “Now they’re going to eat us both alive.”

“Felicity,” his hand moved from the gearshift to her bare knee, and Felicity stared at his fingers encompassing her kneecap and bit her lip. “We can handle this. Asshole ex-classmates have nothing on super assassins or drug lords.”

She snorted, patting his hand pityingly. “This is Vegas, Oliver. I guarantee you at least one of my ex-classmates is a drug lord by now. And you’ve never met Heather Wallace. She ruled that school with an iron fist.”

Oliver laughed, glancing at her quickly and grinning. “You sound impressed.”

Felicity hummed. “Oh, I am. From a feminist standpoint, she’s very impressive. But as one of her former less-than-loyal subjects, I’m a little terrified.”

She glanced down at his hand—still on her knee—as his thumb began absentmindedly rubbing circles into her skin.

“Well, luckily, you’ll have backup.” He smirked smugly, raising his eyebrows at her before  turning his attention back to the road. “Besides, you weren’t gonna get there without me.”

She sighed longsufferingly. “I could have bought a plane ticket.”

He scoffed. “On TechHut money?” She shot him a nasty look he caught out of the corner of his eye. “Felicity, if either of us could have afforded casual roundtrip last-minute flights to Vegas, I’d have bought you the tickets myself.”

She rolled her eyes. “And invited yourself along anyway.”

He rolled his head on his shoulders self-consciously. “I am self aware enough to admit that, yeah.” His hand squeezed her leg again. Higher. But it was his vanishing smile and sad eyes that caught Felicity’s attention. “Digg and Lyla are plenty more than capable of taking care of themselves, and Roy too, while we’re gone, so they have each other. I’m not…” he exhaled through his nose, lips thinned, and finished softly, “I’m not ready to be okay with you being so far away yet. Not alone.”

Felicity chewed her lip and stared at his profile, hesitantly slotting her fingers between his, rubbing circles over the knuckle of his thumb.

Oliver forced a small smile and glanced at her sidelong, teasingly waggling his eyebrows. “Besides, you didn’t exactly have your own car to drive cross-state in right now, since you literally flooded the engine.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, lifting her hand from his to smack the back of it against his—good lord—bicep. “That wasn’t even my fault, Oliver! I hardly asked for a chemically-engineered supersoldier to push my car off the road and into a ditch.”

He chuckled. “Well, he did. And now you get to go on a roadtrip with me. So suck it up.”

“Fine,” she answered primly. She reached for the seat controls and listened to the mechanical whirr as her seatback lowered about three inches. Kicking off her low-heeled sandals, she lifted her feet and propped them on the dash, smirking meanly as he physically bit back a protest.

His hand remained on her thigh—a little higher, now, thanks to gravity—and Felicity admired her buttercup yellow toenails in the slightly blued sunlight through the windshield.

Felicity was dozed off in less than ten minutes, and between his hand curled around her incredibly firm thigh and the full, smooth length of her incredible legs—beautifully displayed below the hems of her short-short high-waisted shorts, bent attractively with her dainty little feet on his dash—Oliver figured any punishment he deserved for being overbearing was already being served.

Since everyone is doing it.

My 2016 resolutions are:
• Kick depression’s ass
• Get a job
• Stop fucking procrastinating
• Finish personal art projects
• Work on Gaeilge in duolingo again
• Don’t quit things because bumps in the road

k-illian-jones  asked:

Charming teaching Hook how to drive (in secret) so he can take Emma out on a date :D :D

Ahhhhh this was adorable and I loved writing it, but I got super swamped with homework this week so I just made it pretty short. Hope you like it though :)

Set in a world were there was no curse on Killian’s lips and everything is fluffy and happy and I’m not having feels attacks at random times because of all the angst. 

“Bloody hell mate, I’m not getting in those metal traps again. Twice has been far too many times.”

David sighed, putting both his hands up to rub the sides of his temples. “Hate to break it to you, mate, but if you’re gonna survive in this world, sailing a ship won’t cut it. You need to be able to drive.”

Hook gave huff from the passenger seat in the Charming’s pickup, and stated petulantly, “but…I don’t wanna.”

“Why not?” David burst out, frustrated at having gone in conversational circles with the pirate for the past - he checked his watch and muffled a groan - the past hour.

“It’s terrifying!” Killian shouted. “Do I need to remind you that I had several ribs broken my one of these machines?”

“You got in it when Emma was driving back here with Henry! You got in one when Tamara and Greg were about to destroy Storybrooke! Why should driving it be any different?”

Hook gave his friend a disbelieving look. “Well for one, how many people drive when they have a hook for a hand?” David didn’t answer, so he continued. “For another, you cannot possibly compare something like being aboard a ship and steering a ship. The same goes for these bloody things,” he said, tapping the dashboard with his hook. “Besides, I can barely stand even being in one. They’re so…” he struggled to find the proper word. “Compact.”

With another sigh, David rolled his head back and tried to think of a way to motivate his friend. He wasn’t even sure why he felt that Killian needed to learn this. Maybe it was because of how much Hook had helped his family to adapt to Neverland, and now David wanted to return the favor. He was finding more and more, however, that it was hard to get the pirate to do anything he didn’t want to do. 

Well, what motivated him the last two times? David thought to himself. After a few moments of contemplation, the answer was clear. Emma. Sure, maybe he had claimed when he came to their apartment so many months ago that he was doing it to save him own life, but their conversation from that day still echoed in David’s mind:

“So, tell me, Hook, all this time, it’s been about revenge for you. Why is it suddenly so important that you survive? I know what I’m fighting for—my family. What are you fighting for?”

“Myself. That’s plenty of motivation, I can assure you.”

There was no doubt that Hook could be incredibly selfish, but not that day. He had returned to them with the bean even though he could’ve made an escape by himself. And David was willing to bet that, even then, Killian had been fighting for a bit more than just his own life. 

“You know,” David began slyly, “Emma was telling me the other day she’s been wishing to eat somewhere other than the apartment or Granny’s.”

He saw Hook pause for a moment, but he recovered quickly and put on a voice that was just a notch or two too high. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Hey, just makin’ conversation mate,” David laughed nonchalantly. “I mean, It’d sure as hell be pretty hard to sail her anywhere for a date, but driving would open up some possibilities…” He sat there for a moment, watching Killian as he mulled over the idea and had a passing thought of questioning what kind of father he was that he would use a date with his daughter as a bribing point to get his friend to learn how to drive. He shrugged the idea off quickly. Nah, Emma could kick Killian’s ass in a second if he tried anything. Not that he would. He’s basically putty in her hands.

After a long silence, Killian got out of the passenger seat and strode around the car to get on to David’s side. Laughing, David pulled himself over to the other seat, leaving it open for Killian as he slammed the door and looked ahead at the road resolutely. 

“Alright fine, teach me how to drive this bloody thing.”

end of this road

My resolution for 2015 is “talk less, do more.” Which means stop talking about writing and pitching and actually write and pitch. I did write some things this year I’m proud of, but not nearly enough things.

One big change I’m going to make this year involves this tumblr. Basically, I’m not going to be writing here anymore. I’ll do my writing in my magazine, at medium, and at whatever websites will have me. I’ll keep this tumblr active to link to whatever I write in the event you’d like to keep up with where I’m putting my words.

I’ve been on tumblr a long time. It’s been a good run. I’ve made a lot of friends, had a lot of laughs and got an awful lot of support when I needed it. I couldn’t ask for a better bunch of people to spend my online time with.

But it’s run its course. Lately I feel like everything I start to write here I should be writing somewhere else. And all I’ve done here lately is bitch about things. I’m tired of that. I don’t want to keep using this as a platform to complain. I no longer want to spend my time complaining.

I just feel like it’s time. I need to move on. I need to restart my writing career. I need to focus my energies on other things. I’m still going to read and give you my hearts, I just won’t be putting my every thought down here.

If you want to keep up with me, I’ll be on twitter and Facebook and, like I said, using this to keep you posted when I write something somewhere. If you want to keep in touch, you know where to find me. 

So let me now say Happy New Year to you all. May your 2015 be full of love and good health and prosperity. I feel like this is going to be a really good year. I hope you’ll still take the ride through it with me wherever I may turn up.

Thanks for the past few years, tumblr. It’s been swell.

take me away | an orphan black fanfiction (day six)

delphine and cosima on the road post-s2. [ao3] [playlist

the final day. in which cosima seems very small, and they smoke on a hotel balcony and drive into the city late at night. to be followed up with an epilogue.

warnings: illness & death as usual, minor drug use

day one | day two | day three | day four | day five | epilogue

The world comes into view slowly, darker than expected: small static-ridden TV, peeling wallpaper imprinted with shadowy pictures of cacti in terracotta pots, a dark mass of luggage piled in the corner. It takes Delphine a moment to realize what is missing. She draws herself out of bed and goes to the sliding doors, pushes aside the blackout curtains and sees: Cosima on the balcony, languid, leaning against the railing. She has a joint between her fingers and as Delphine watches she opens her mouth to exhale smoke into the morning air. The sunrise is beginning behind her, a soft orange-pink glow at the horizon.

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