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arcade-writing · 2 years

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IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED EPISODE 6 YET - BE CAREFUL, THIS IS INSPIRED BY A SCENE IN IT AND WHILST NOT A DIRECT SPOILER , IM STILL PUTTING THIS HERE AND IF YOU WANT TO STAY COMPLETELY SPOILER FREE THAN PLEASE READ AFTER WATCHING!

Jake canonically fucks. In the comics he's even got a kid. Jake knows how to have good sex and I stand by that

Mi amor

🍋 NSFW

Pairing: Jake lockley X reader (GN)

Warning: spanking, dirty talk in Spanish, rough sex, Car sex - semi public, fingering, mentions of a belly bulge, blow jobs, creampie, crying kink, hickies, slight knife play, he has a big dick, sadistic Dom! Jake

I use a translation app a friend recommended to me, it was one they used to translate English and of course, vise versa when they wanted to translate their language to English. They said it was super useful whilst they were still learning so I'm using it

I'm sorry if there are mistakes

You frowned as the bitter taste of alcohol burned your throat. The cheap stuff most bars sold were always too rough to drink. It's why most only drank to get drunk - not actually enjoy it.

But you preferred finer things. Not to say you were a snob or overly picky. After all you were still ordering drinks despite your complaints. You just liked it when alcohol didn't feel like a challenge to drink. Wanting to spend your night tipsy and free. No one telling you what to do or forcing you away from your free time. Just being able to finally relax.

Though being alone didn't seem to be an option. You'd be a fool not to notice the man in the far corner, watching you like a hawk. You couldn't make out his face due to the distance also the fact the top half of it was covered by his flat cap.

You tried your best to ignore him. He didn't make any moves to approach and you hoped it stayed that way. You really didn't need some weird guy harassing you tonight. Or really, any night.

With one last gulp of your drink you slammed the glass down. Tipping the bartender before you marched to the dance floor. Let the music vibrate from the floor beneath you to your finger tips.

Hands slid up your hips, your back pressed to an unknown back. You watched the hands as they did so. Blocky rings on each hand but they weren't excessive. Nothing luxurious or telling of character. Either plain bands or something chunkier with a fake gem in the middle. Their hands were large with a visible vein.

You looked up to see it was the man who's been watching you. You were far too tipsy to care anymore; letting his hands roam up your chest until they guided your arms out. His lips pressed against your shoulder before descending down one kiss at a time to your knuckles. Repeating the same for your other arm.

You gasped as you were suddenly spun around. Your hand pressed against his chest as he put one hand on your waist. The other kept your hand in a firm grip. The music moving your bodies as you swayed. Feet tapping against the floor in time of the beat. You didn't even realize you were taking your dance around the floor; watching as the people around you cleared the way.

You hooked your leg around his as you were suddenly dipped. His hand on your waist creeped up your back. You took this moment to catch your breath.

"What's your name?"

You were thankful he was so close to you now. You could finally see his face. Finding yourself sinking deep into his brown eyes. The same shade as barch wood. They were clouded and dark; not a single shine to them.

"Ever heard of stranger danger, toots?" He remarked. Smirking as he pulled you back to his chest.

Your dance continued as your hips swish, legs tangling together but never causing a slip up. Each step smooth as if you're rehearsed this all before. Utterly in sync despite never meeting.

"I'd like to know the name of the man who's been watching me all night."

"Forgive me, I couldn't help but admire ya from afar."

His voice was much clearer now. You could hear a thick Spanish accent with a Chicago twang. Before you could think of it any more you were spun. His hand on your lower back the entire time as you twisted on your heels.

His knee was now pressed between your thighs as he leaned against you. Your knuckles brushed his freshly shaven face, his hand still locked with yours. His palms were coarse. You just caught a glimpse of his knuckles; shredded and scarred. As if they were never given time to heal.

"So? What's your name, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." You bargained.

He hummed as he thought before he grinned. It was stiff. Wooden on his face. As if he wasn't use to smiling genuinely.

"Jake- Jake lockley and yours?"

You told him your name. Listening to the way it rolled off his tongue as he repeated it to himself.

There was one part of your brain that was still sober. Screaming for you to run. To get as far away as you could. His whole demeanour smelled like danger. It was potent on him. But you couldn't bring yourself to act logically. Not when he was kissing your shoulder, lips brushing against the exposed part of your neck.

A little bit of danger never hurt anyone.

That's what you tell yourself as you let him whisk you away. Stumbling out the back of the bar where you saw a white limousine. Whilst the bar itself was pretty upper class it still felt out of place to see such a facny car.

Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for you. You obviously went in without thought and he followed after you.

The seats were a gorgeous crimson. Soft and lavish yet still a little firm. You pressed down and watched it slowly rise back up. A sigh slipped out of you as you leaned against the chair. You had to admit - they were really comfortable.

Jake pulled out a bag from under an arm rest, sealing it back shut as he offered it to you. With alot of hesitance you reached out and looked inside. It was bread sticks. Just - dozens of bread sticks you'd normally steal from a bad date at a nice restaurant. Where they were freshly baked, still plump with abit of squish. Unlike the rock solid ones at your local restaurants.

They still smelt fresh and were warm against your hands. They looked delicious.

But even with your mind fuzzy you couldn't bring yourself to eat. He was a stranger afterall. You were in his car. Oh god what are you doing? You wanted to smack yourself for ever letting him near you.

Jake plucked one of the rolls from the bag, greedily chewing as he leaned against his chair. Keeping a respectable distance from you as if he was trying to keep you comfortable. You watched him eat without care and finally let out a breath. Taking one for yourself and began to eat.

You always forgot how hungry alcohol made you. All you could focus on was this continues sensation of dehydration you felt, you always skipped having a meal. It's most likely why you're usually the first to get drunk when out with friends. But as you ate more bread you could feel your mind slowly lift from its clouded state. Your mouth fighting off a sudden dryness with your saliva.

He handed you a water bottle and without thought you took it. Chugging it down as you finally felt that hit. You were now sober. Still in a stranger's car and eating an unflattering amount of bread sticks. You glanced down at the cars door and noticed that it was still unlocked. He made no attempt to keep you stuck here.

"Thank you - I wasn't really sure how this was going to go."

"I have many ideas."

That both intrigued you and scared you. Your heart pounding as he slowly moved closer. Taking your hand in his his as he kissed your knuckles. You moved the bag away from your seat as you let him sit next to you. He pulled you towards him as his lips hovered over yours.

"Do me the honours, mi amor?"

Oh god you were down bad for a total stranger. Even with a clear mind you wanted to keep going. You wanted to see what he'd do. He was a mystery you wanted to solve. And the way his voice dripped with desire but still kept his hold on you light. It made your chest go fuzzy.

"Y-yes."

He smirked at that. Taking his place on the floor between your legs. Throwing off his jacket with speed you could only describe as desperate. Undoing only a few buttons to reveal his tanned chest. A golden necklace shimmering against the small lights in the cars ceiling.

Jake was quick to undress you. Leaving you in only your underwear. You were completely vulnerable. Just watching him as he ran his hands up and down your thighs.

"Wait- what about the windows."

"It's two sided."

That should of made you run but you didn't. A new excitement brewing in your gut knowing no one would be able to see you. You thought you were better than this. Smater than this but feeling the cold metal of his rings against your skin? It did something unspeakable to you.

Teeth dig into your thigh making you yelp. It was hard enough to leave a mark but not draw blood. He immediately kissed it to soothe your bruised skin. He sucked on the mark as his hands squeezed your thighs. He continued his pursuit; biting and sucking all over your inner thigh before he did the same to the other.

You were squirming under him. Feeling your own arousal become torturous. He was close yet refuse to satisfy the aching need you felt.

"Please- Jake-"

He looked up at you. Releasing your flesh from his lips; they were shiny from the sloppy kisses he gave. He caressed you as he leaned up. Your noses brushing against each other. His damn hat still on which stopped him from Leaning any closer. Knowing it'll get in the way.

"I can fuck you like you're my lover." He cupped your face, slowly dragging the back of his hand to your chin. You shivered as the rings dug into your cheek.

"Or like you're a hole needing to be filled." He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look up as he towered over you.

Your brain ceased to work. Thighs rubbing as you thought his words over. You really wanted to be a sensible person. Let yourself have something gentle and nice but your body screamed for the latter. You let out a shaky breath as you spread your legs further.

"Fuck me until I can't take it."

Jake let out a growl. Yanking you towards him as he pressed himself against you. You pulled back his hat as he rushed towards your lips. Forcing his tongue in as you let out a gasp. Hungrily devouring your mouth as his lips crashed against yours. You moaned as your tongues swirled. You could taste the brandy he was drinking earlier, it made you grab his head. Wanting to taste more as you kissed him back with furious passion.

He bit your bottom lip causing a small amount of blood to drip. But it only made him kiss you with more force. He groaned as his large hands traveled around your body. Squeezing what he could as he grinded against your clothed sex.

When you two finally parted you were left breathless. Stars sparkled in your ears as you stared at him. You were sure your lips were red and bruised. Jake licked your blood of his lips with a shaky breath. His own excitement growing.

You were suddenly spun around. Your hands gripping the comfy seat as he roughly grabbed at your hips. You jumped as you felt something cold drag along the plump of your ass. You peered over your shoulder to see a small pocket knife. You didn't want to admit how turned on you were right now. Following the blade as it grazed your skin. Leaving light scratches until it reached the edge of your underwear.

You blinked and your underwear was sliced. He pulled them with surprising strength, literally ripping them from your body. Exposing your lower half completely. Your knees buckled as you used the chair as a support. Gripping onto it for dear life as he squeezed your ass.

"Qué culo más bonito." He mumbled to himself. (what a beautiful ass)

A blush rose to your cheeks as you felt his rings dig into your skin. The knife he held still trailing small scratches. Brushing over the sensative part of your inner thigh. You tried not to move, fearing it'll cut you.

You gasped as you jumped in Surprise. A hard smack knocking you from your thoughts as your ass was left stinging. The knife he held was tucked neatly back into his leg strap. You leaned back, wiggling your hips. Silently asking him to do it again.

He happily complied with a coo you couldn't quite understand. Striking you with another slap. This one more aggressive than the last. The force of his palm and the rings made it more painful than you expected but you loved it.

You loved it more than you should. Knowing full well your ass was going to covered in bruises and hand prints by the time he's done with you.

You let out a whine as he massaged the splotchy red marks. He leaned down to give it a curt kiss before he sucked on your lower back. You arched as his fingers just brushed against your entrance. Teasing you before he removed them, you wanted to protest but he pressed his fingers against you. Now wet and covered in his spit, his finger circled around your hole before he shoved a finger in.

Creating a steady pace as he worked you out. Only adding a second finger until he was sure you could take it. It was delicious - he curled his fingers in a 'come here' motion as he thrusted his fingers in. Unable to go down to his knuckles since his rings were in the way but you didn't care. You just felt relieved you finally felt something in you.

He swapped hands. Leaving more harsh smacks against your ass. You were shaking at his point, tears in your eyes as the pain became overwhelming. You clenched around his fingers as you grew more impaitent. Feeling his confined cock against your ass.

"Fuck me-!" You cried out.

"You think you can take this?" He taunted, freeing himself as he smacked it against your hole. It felt heavy.

Curiosity got the better of you as you twisted your head further, it was uncomfortable but you needed to see it. And oh was it a sight to behold. It was slightly darker than the rest of him, thick in girth and had an impressive height. You were no mathematician so you couldn't say what his exact size was but you didn't need to be one to know that it was big.

"I can take it." You tried to sound confident. Your grin strained as he raised a brow at you.

You could see him more clearly now his hat was out of the way. His hair was scruffy, ruining the effort he put in to keep it pushed back. He was devastingly handsome. His brows were dark and thick. The left having a scar splitting it. His jaw was as if it was cut from stone, sharp and perfectly square. His nose was crooked as if he's taken far too many beatings.

He only shook his head. Amused by your persistence. "You want to take it? Go on - see how much you can take in that pretty mouth or yours."

Apart of you wanted to protest. To whine for nor getting what you want but it was too tempting. Your mouth was watering at the mere sight of him.

You turned around, sliding down to the floor as he fell into the nearest seat. You crawled towards him; fixated on his cock as he held it by the base. Watching you with eager eyes as you took your place between his legs. You leaned up, grabbing it and replaced his hand. You trailed kisses up it as it pressed on your cheek. You could feel it twitch in your grasp.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Sucking on it as your tongue swirled around it. He groaned as he grabbed the back your head, giving you an encouraging nudge. You took in a deep breath through your nose as you slowly sunk deeper. It wasn't long before you could feel it hit the back of your throat. You gagged around it as you bopped your head. He only let out a blissful grunt as he kept your head steady.

You wrapped your hand what you couldn't fit in your Mouth as you hollowed out your cheeks. Trying to fit more. You grinded into your own palm as your head moved faster. Your body was shaking as you held back the urge to move away.

"Eso es, cariño - Puedes soportar más, ¿no? Dijiste que podías aguantar.". (That's right, honey - You can take more, can't you? You said you could take it)

You cried out as he pushed your head further down. Your eyes Rolling back as you could feel him in your throat. Jake had no issue gripping your head tighter as he moved your head to his own pace. You moaned as he fucked your mouth, palming yourself with more vigor as he used you.

He sat up, clutching the roof handle to hold himself up as he thrusted his hips forward. Your fingers digged into his thigh as you let out a choked cry.

"¿Te gusta que te folle la garganta?". (Do you like it when I fuck your throat? )

You nodded as you swallowed around him. He felt himself verge on the edge. Looking down at your tear stained face. Cheeks painted red, brows slightly knitted as you tried to stay focus, tears streaming down your face as you trembled. Mouth full of his cock.

"Fuck-!" It was too much. He pulled your head back, finally letting you breathe. You took in greedy gulps of air as you shuddered. Sniffling as he caressed and patted your head.

You look up at with his watery eyes. Pawing at his thighs as you nuzzled against him.

"Please." Your voice was hoarse. Utterly ruined by his deep thrusts.

To Jake, you were perfection. You looked.more beautiful than any gem in the world. A sight he would never forget.

"I'm gonna ruin you for any other man." He growled out, pulling you up with ease.

Your hands slapped on the cars window. Cheek smooshed against it as he adjusted your hips. The cold window felt heavenly on your sourcing skin. It was a miracle you could even keep yourself propped up, your legs felt like jello. He slid his knees against your thighs to keep you steady. Stretching your plump flesh outwards to get better access to your entrance.

His fat tip pressed against you making you mewl. Sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust. You both let out a moan when he bottomed out. His grip on your hips was painful as he held still. Resisting all his desires as you adjusted to his length. As soon as you felt more comfortable you rolled your hips back. That was all he needed before he was pounding into you.

You didn't have enough strength to try to match his pace. Marveling as he moved your hips for you. Skin slapping against skin filled the car as it creaked. You used your hands to brace your head. Clawing at the edges of the door as you cried out.

"Guess you weren't all talk, after all." He snickered to himself. Absolutely thrilled by the way you felt so snug around him.

You tried to speak but every attempt was cut off by your moans. Your throat burned as you couldn't do anything. Mouth parted, drool trickling down your chin as your eyes rolled back. Completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure as he brutally slammed into you. Hitting your g-spot with ease.

There was a flash of white as you felt yourself twitch. Clenching around him as a scream was ripped out of you. You couldn't even get a breath from your sudden climax, he was still thrusting in. You let out a sob as you gripped his wrist. Whispers of a moan spilled from you as he chased his own release.

"Jake...." You croaked out. Trying to muster your voice. "Inside.... please."

That was all he needed to push him over the edge. Hot thick ropes of white splattering your walls as he slowed down his thrusts. Keeping you flush against him as he groaned.

He fell back into the chair, keeping you glued to him. Any movement felt like fire. Too sensitive to take anymore. Against your more sensible brain you started grinding on his lap. Panting as you left open mouth kisses against his lips.

"Mi amor." He groaned out, placing a hand on your stomach. Feeling the head of his cock against your abdomen. "You're playing a dangerous game."

You leaned against him. Sighing as you finally caught your breath. He nuzzled into your shoulder, planting a kiss on it as he caressed your stomach. You both sat there. Enjoying each others warmth. Where the night was gonna end you weren't too sure. But you didn't care. Just enjoying the after glow.

#moon knight x y/n #moon knight x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley moon knight #moon knight episode 6 #moon knight end credits #moon knight minor spoilers #moon knight jake #moon knight jake lockley #my favourite serial killer

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albatris · 2 years

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hewwo

I'm revisiting rental car book one and trying to muddle my way through the whole thing in order

felt like posting the little starting part <3

chapter one opening!!!! the very start of our silly miserable little trilogy :3 I'm not sure if it's too slow or not.........

ahoy taglist! @nicola-writes @saturniiforme @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @softboiled-doomdesire (new username? :O!) @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @flapuflapu @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @itisi-asimplegay @constellationof0rion @writing-is-a-martial-art and also @incandescent-creativity if you're interested, bc of your 👀👀👀👀's in the replies hehe :3

Nat Finch blinked awake.

He was slumped forward in the driver’s seat of his rental car, his forehead pressed to the steering wheel, his body aching like he hadn’t moved in centuries. His feet were bare. His throat burned. His head throbbed. Curled over his shoulders was the familiar softness of the blanket from his back seat, the one he’d been meaning to give to the Larsons for two weeks now. A deep night breeze leaked through the slightly-open window to his right, the cold gnawing at the dampness that clung to his clothes, to his face and hair. He felt filthy, filmy, disgusting—more so than usual.

A muddle of memories and flickers and voices fought for space in his brain, bumping up against each other and overlapping, threads escaping every time he thought he’d grasped one. He was overcome, for a single, surreal moment, by the sense he had just awoken from an exceedingly peculiar dream.

Nat Finch sat up, groaning.

In his lap, plastic crinkled, disturbed by the motion. A collection of granola bars were scattered over him, a few of them having tumbled down onto the seat next to him and the floor below. Like someone had dumped them unceremoniously over his head and just… left him like that. He squinted down at them.

He recognised the brand, vaguely—something hoity-toity and ridiculous he’d seen at the supermarket, fifteen dollars a goddamn box—but they weren’t something that had any business being anywhere near him. His bank balance barely scraped double digits at the moment.

“Who the fuck…” Nat paused, not sure what question he was even supposed to be asking. “Why the fuck…”

His attention edged upwards, to a scrap of cardboard folded neatly in two and perched atop his dashboard.

DO YOUR BEST! it read in a childlike handwritten scrawl.

Nat squinted harder. “What the fuck.”

He tried to think. His brain, sluggish and laden with fog and aching, refused to provide any context for the mystery shower of nutrition. Or the note.

Or… anything else, for that matter. He didn’t remember falling asleep; he didn’t remember stopping his car. He remembered leaving work, but it had barely been dusk when he’d left work. The trip from Stop ‘N’ Go to his apartment was fifteen minutes, tops.

It was not dusk anymore. The black outside was the pitch dark and solitude of the witching hour, and the world beyond his window was dead silent, save for the buzz and pop of a single faulty streetlight a few metres ahead and the chittering gossip of crickets. No people. No cars. No movement.

Nat’s dread climbed. He craned his neck and strained to decipher his whereabouts. The lonely light offered only flimsy, spluttering illumination—some of it splashing into his car, some of it into dry grass and mesh fence lining the side of the road, most of it merely into the rumble of gravel directly beneath it. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea why he was where he was.

The disco ball hanging from his rear-view mirror glittered at him, blinking urgently.

He shoved the granola bars off himself, suddenly feeling contaminated, sending them scattering. A strident, pulsating pain forked through every inch of his body at the movement—he gritted his teeth, letting out a hiss of air and a wince. The blanket went next, ripped from his shoulders and hurled at the opposing window in a multicoloured flurry. It crumpled to the passenger seat and Nat stared at it, prickling all over with the suspicion someone else had placed it on him. Someone else had been here. Watching. Leaning. Looming. Touching. His hand flew to the window winder and wound it, sealing the opening. Sealing himself in and the outside out.

And then he sat still, mind reeling, chest tight. Panic twisting in his stomach. He waited for his brain to kick over, for his memory to rush back, for the moment he shook free the dregs of post-sleep disorientation and went, Oh, that’s right! That’s why I’m here! That’s what’s going on! How could I have forgotten?

A minute passed.

And another.

Frozen.

Rigid.

Nat swallowed, hard. Nothing clicked into place. Nothing clicked and nothing clicked and nothing clicked. Why not? He’d left work and turned left down Rake Street like he always did. He’d done nothing out of the ordinary.

The dark outside was alive. With every flicker-out of the streetlight, it whined at his window, still trying to reach him. A tapping, a whistling, a whispering in its own made-up language. Nat. Nat. Nat. Something’s wrong. Nathaniel. Something’s wrong. The dark that should not have been there. The dark that should have been dusk.

He'd lost hours. He’d lost hours. What the hell had happened to him? The note on his dashboard just sat there, smirking. It knew things he didn’t.

Nat fought to breathe in.

Nat fought to breathe out.

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

Five things he could see were that gaudy leopard-print steering wheel cover, the smeared windscreen from too-old wipers, the radio, the hazard switch, his own hands, crusted in cracked, dried mud.

Four things he could feel were the press of the seat under him, the press of his work uniform over him, the sting of the cold on his feet, pain, pain, pain.

Three things he could hear were crickets and streetlights and dark.

Two things he could smell were the dull citrus hum of the vent-clip air freshener and the fact it was doing nothing to hide the fact he hadn’t showered in a while.

One thing he could taste was—

Okay, okay, alright. Okay. That would do it. Nat breathed in. Nat breathed out. Calm. Calm. Calm. A panic attack would help no one.

He reached gingerly for the ignition, exhaling in relief when he grasped the key still inside. He had that, at least. He hesitated, perched on an agonising threshold between hopeful anticipation and whatever reality was about to find him.

He turned.

Nothing.

He turned again.

Nothing. The car stuttered and clicked uselessly, refusing to start. Relief left him as quickly as it had arrived. Flat battery.

Nat breathed, “Ah, fuck.”

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

He twisted towards the back seat, feeling along the faux leather for his work backpack. He hauled it to himself and rammed an arm inside to seek his phone, shoving through a jumble of familiar shapes—notebook, hoodie, empty soft drink can for recycling, empty soft drink can for recycling, gum, nametag—ah, there it was.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Nat whined, his finger colliding with the power button. “Please, please, please—”

Nothing. Flat battery.

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

Nat plonked his forehead back down on the steering wheel and released a long, agonised wail.

Simmering anxiety climbed into roiling terror. Terror branched sideways into paranoia. Paranoia bloomed up through his chest and into his throat, where it squeezed tight and threatened to choke him. He’d lost hours. Anything could have happened to him. Anything could have been done to him. The dark outside mocked and laughed. The disco ball blinked its rhythmic little warnings. He could feel it all, even when he wasn’t looking.

Nathaniel. Something’s wrong. Nathaniel.

“No shit,” he muttered back.

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

What next?

He lifted his head and flipped the sun visor down to look at himself in the mirror. With no phone screen and no overhead light to guide him, it was hard to get a full picture. He tilted his head, twisted his neck, attempted to catch himself on some jittering streetlight. He snagged a few glimpses—a dribble of blood from a cracked lip here, a smudge of dirt on a cheekbone there. His shirt looked bloody, too, though that could have been more mud. His hair wasn’t sitting right, all caked together and hanging in thick clumps.

Two trembling hands lifted, the quiver partially from weakness and partially from fear, and Nat gripped at his face. Tugging along those familiar edges and curves and juts, finding them not so familiar. Finding them wrong. Hollow. Caved in. His fingertips wandered down towards his jaw—

—and along the thick, uneven mumbling of stubble that hadn’t been there when he’d left the apartment that morning.

Nat’s heartbeat tripped up. He hadn’t lost hours.

He’d lost days.

Nat breathed in. Nat breathed in. Nat breathed in. Not enough. Too fast. His chest heaved. His lungs refused to fill.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t have lost days. He couldn’t have lost days. Jesus Christ, Nat had never been the shining poster child of mental health, but he’d never lost days. He’d been God knew where for God knew how long. He’d been—his feet were bare, his hands and face were streaked with mud, someone had clearly been messing around in his car—he’d been taken. Drugged. Kidnapped. That scribbled note? He was being toyed with, probably by some deranged serial killer. And what was with the granola bars? Some kind of clue? A message?

He had to go. He had to run. He had to get help. Something close to a whimper climbed up his throat and fell from his lips. His hand crept to the door handle, and stopped.

Nat didn’t move.

He’d seen horror movies. Not many, but enough. The chase, the hunt, the twisted mind games before the inevitable kill… these were part of the fun. There was probably someone watching him right now, folded into the shadows and out of sight, waiting for him to panic. Waiting for him to make his first mistake and step outside.

Waiting for him to start the game.

He couldn’t leave.

He couldn’t stay.

Could he stay? Could he just wait it out? Someone would find him. Someone would look for him. Someone would look for him, right?

No, no one would look for him. No one would care enough that he was gone.

No, there was no way they’d let him wait this out. They would find some way to lure him out, drive him out, force him out into the waiting hands of the cold night air. Unprotected. Alone. All at once Nat felt a million eyes boring into him, leering from beyond the black, drinking in his every move. He shoved himself lower in his seat, clutching his dead phone to his chest, making himself as small as possible.

Nat fought to breathe in.

Nat fought to breathe out.

He tried a final time to reason with himself.

When he’d worked twelve hour shifts four days straight, he’d started being dogged by the idea someone had snuck a microscopic tracking device into his takeaway pizza, which he had subsequently consumed. When he’d been behind on rent for the third fortnight in a row, he’d become fixated on the idea other customers in the supermarket were reading his thoughts and laughing at him. Look at this fucking loser. Grimy hair and track pants. Can’t even afford instant ramen.

Panic and stress tended to climb on top of him bit by bit. Panic and stress tended to twist all kinds of everyday events into all kinds of unnatural, terrifying shapes. It was normal. Even the tiny, audible hints of speech pushing through the dark, giving voice to his anxiety, those were normal under the right circumstances. It was all… no, not normal. It was a pattern. Tomorrow, he’d be fine. Tomorrow, he’d understand he’d never been in any danger.

So even though he was here now, helpless and stranded in the empty night, barefoot and filthy, abandoned by his memories and surrounded by leering scrawled words and fucking rich people granola bars—he had to take this moment of clarity and hold it tight.

Tomorrow, this would all make sense.

DO YOUR BEST! the dark around him sang.

“Go to hell,” Nat spat.

And with that, he wrenched the door open.

#yeehaw. here it is. the opening of rental car book one chapter one #if it had a title it would be DO YOUR BEST!#go nat go. you funky little horror protagonist. you poor fucking bastard #rental car updates #can you blame nat for going off the rails and doing the exact opposite of what the vamps that turned him wanted #his only instructions were DO YOUR BEST #tbf there are very specific reasons nat wasn't allowed in on the plan as a whole and those reasons are #he is now part of a giant interconnected vampire hivemind and everything he knows the Garble knows #also ive already told you in some earlier spoilers what the deal is with the trail bars lmao #I'm not gonna go over it again here but its my favourite stupid detail fjdkdkdk #also idk if nat seems way too fucking quick to jump to panic and paranoia abt serial killers but my excuse is #I'm schizotypal and he's schizotypal. there #a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears

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