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    This Highway is Barren and Smells of Regret

    Story written on October 4, 2006 by peglegmeg.
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    Genre(s): N/A
    Rating: N/A
    fanfiction(s):
    Character(s): N/A
    Number of Comments: 14
    Words: 2273
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=12422
    Author Notes:

    “Don’t touch that dial, daddy-o, WolfMan Jack here, gonna play you some rock ‘n roll, that’ll knock your socks off, so sit back, guys grab your gals, and put the peddle to the meddle…”
    Spash AU One-shot

    There are now five badass, hot-looking daddies standing on the edge of the embankment; the core of The Weevils. Four brothers and Tommy Tu-Tone, an outsider from Nowhere, Kansas, momma run off with a mechanic and his daddy killed by on oncoming train: “He may not be flesh and blood, but he’s one of us, a Weevil, we don’t take shit from no one, including white trash shit-kickers and know-it-all city slickers…”

    The boys slid down the embankment and formed a semicircle around us. Their leather jacket collars were flipped up, jeans rolled at the ankle, and black tee’s tucked into dark denim with a matching black belt. Not bad on the stylin’, but still not good enough to take home to momma.

    The black and pink emerges from behind the tree. Your brown hair is tied back with a pink scarf, your black knee-length skirt and plush pink sweater tight in all the right places. You are sassy and sweet, maple syrup over fluffy pancakes; you don’t take no lip, but you’s all class.

    I don’t look at you. There is no need for that. You are standing feet from me and that’s all that matters. Yet, you invade my vision, wrapping your arm around your leather-clad, greased-up baby, your fingers clutching at the leather of his jacket, the side of your hip molding with his. He smacks your ass with his giant paw, chuckling at no one in particular, his tongue shifting the toothpick back and forth in his mouth.

    The sun beats down like a jackhammer as sweat drips off of us, erasing the innocence in thin streaks, washing the sainthood from our souls, dripping towards feet. The burning within my palm has ceased, the memory now fully intact, all I have to do is glance at my palm and all this will be there.

    My head darts up against my will, and my blue eyes bore into you, my tongue snaking up and licking at my salty lips. Your dark eyes stare back intensely, tiny black dots reflecting my fierce and untouchable future, one that doesn’t include you, as we continue our own secret war; one that I don’t care if I win or lose, because either way, both outcomes will leave me breathless and naked, free from this stale existence of childlike antics and faked orgasms.

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    Comments

    5. I feel cheated. Cheated that i’ve only just discovered the beauty that is your writing. peglegmeg where have you been all my life??? that was a wonderful read. what away to look back in time, see things from their eyes in a time where thier lifestyle was very foux pas. beautiful in imagery. symbolisim. just, excellent

    10. I feel cheated. Cheated that i’ve only just discovered the beauty that is your writing. peglegmeg where have you been all my life??? that was a wonderful read. what away to look back in time, see things from their eyes in a time where thier lifestyle was very foux pas. beautiful in imagery. symbolisim. just, excellent

    11. My oh my. I pm’d you awhile ago about the intensity of your writing but i’m not sure you got it. I love the fact that I have to pay close attention to what’s happening or I miss it. And yet you weave the most amazing stories. You are… wow. My oh my.

    12. My oh my. I pm’d you awhile ago about the intensity of your writing but i’m not sure you got it. I love the fact that I have to pay close attention to what’s happening or I miss it. And yet you weave the most amazing stories. You are… wow. My oh my.

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