Chainsmokers | Masky x Reader / Tim Wright x Reader | RE WRITE

1

Car drives are nice. The radio plays mediocre music while you drive down an empty road, cool air that smells like the woods around you coming in through the rolled down windows. You can see the sun setting in your rear view mirror, the world turning dimmer and dimmer. It's quite relaxing.

Until you see smoke bellowing from the front of your car.

"Oh god damn it," I huff, turning the radio down and tossing my lit cigarette out of the window. I look around, and see a gas station to pull into. I didn't plan to stop here, but I guess I have to now.

I hastily turn into the parking lot, parking over to the side of the building. I get out and pop the hood, trying to see what's wrong this time. "I just fucking got you fixed. This better be nothing," I mumble to myself, checking it out.

I sigh in relief. "It just overheated, thank god," I run a hand through my hair, glancing over at the gas station. I could use to buy some water for the car, and some more cigarettes. I grab my wallet out of my car and head inside.

No one paid heed to the door bell going off as I stepped inside, and I took a second to take in the cool air conditioner. It's the middle of summer in Alabama, so it feels damned nice compared to the heat outside. I glance around, grabbing a gallon of water, an energy drink, and a couple of jerky snacks.

Going up to the cashier, I place my stuff down to pay. "Oh, and add two packs of Newport's please," I smile at the young boy working. As he rung up my stuff, I looked around, seeing a man not much taller than me looking through the cheap survival gear they sell.

"Y'know all that stuff is worthless, right?" I call out to him. He looks over at me with a somewhat puzzled expression, and just shrugs. "They just wanna make some more money outta 'ya from last minute purchases. That stuff will fail you when it really counts."

He chuckles at that, shaking his head. "It can still be better than nothing sometimes though." His voice was deep, and only had a slight accent of the people around here. "Ma'am, that'll be $24.98," the cashier boy spoke up, just wanting me to pay.

"I can assume you're not around here?" I ask the man as I swipe my card. He shook his head. "Used to live here as a boy. I'm visiting for the first time in years," he replied, grabbing a cheap multi-tool and joining me in line. I grab my stuff and thank the cashier.

"Well, if you're staying around for much longer, I'd like to catch a drink with you sometime soon? Though I can't imagine why'd anyone would stay around here longer than they could," I wink at the guy, earning a small chuckle and smile from him.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll see you again and we can." With that our little chat was over. As I walk out, I can hear him ask for some Marlboro packs.

"Sad. He's so attractive, but smokes some of the worse cigarettes known," I shake my head with a small laugh, tossing my stuff in the passenger seat of my car as I climbed in. I tried turning the car on.

It wouldn't start up.

I tried again.

Nothing.

"Fuck."

I get out and look at the engine again. I didn't see anything obvious that would be wrong. Frustrated, I slam the hood down and huff. When I check my phone to try and call someone, I had no service. "Of course."

I lite a cigarette and smoke as I look around. I was miles and miles away from the nearest town, out in the middle of nowhere, with no service, and with hardly anyone even here that could give me a ride. Aren't I just lucky?

I notice the man from earlier across the parking lot, messing with stuff in the bed of his truck. With nothing else to lose, I walk over to him. "So you're a Marlboro type man, huh?" He looks up to see me, and just laughs.

"What can I say, I'm a man with taste," he shrugs, leaning on his truck to focus on me. I shake my head with a laugh.

"Bad taste, that is. So mister 'a man with taste,' do you got a name or is that it?" I jest, smiling at him as I take a drag of my cigarette. He chuckles, shaking his head at me. "Tim," he answers.

"Uh-huh," I nod, looking around. "Well, Tim. I'm having some car issues, as in my car sucks ass and won't start up now. Could you give me a ride? Either to town or straight to my house?" He sighs, looking around as if thinking about it.

"I could easily make it worth your time. Would you like money or what?" I add on as a small joke with a slight smirk on my face. He runs a hand through his dark hair and sighs again.

"It just seems unfair you know my name, yet I have no clue what to call you," he finally responded with a small smile. I can't help but laugh.

"Name's (Y/N)," I smile, holding a hand out for him to shake. He shakes my hand, and I just notice how rough and big his hand feels. Nice.

"I guess I can give you a ride, Miss (Y/N), especially since you said you could make it worth it," he tells me, walking to his truck door. "Go get what you wanna get, the passenger seat is clean enough for 'ya."

I quickly go and get my stuff, such as my drink, phone, and keys, and hurry back to his truck. I climb up in the passenger side, looking around the inside of his truck. It was pretty basic and bare, like any worn truck can be. "So how do we get to your house?" He asks, looking over at me.

"I'll just tell you where to turn, it's not too far." He nods, starting up his truck and then pulling out of the gas station. He turns the radio on, and the song playing soon ends, making way for the news segment.

"A new missing child found last night in the woods close to the school. Eight year old Natalie Brook is one of the twenty five children to go missing this month, and only the tenth to be found. She was found deceased and her famil-" Tim turns the radio off in the middle of the broadcast. I can't blame him. It used to be so nice here, now children are missing left and right, and those found are dead. There have even been children found that were so mutilated they were past the point of identification.

It's absolutely horrible.

We sit in silence for a little bit after that, an almost depressed feeling in the air. I tell him where to turn, and that's it.

Looking out the window, I swear I see something in the woods. I'm not sure what, but it was something. Something unnerving that didn't belong here. I didn't feel too great after that.

Soon enough, we arrive at my home, pulling into the paved driveway. I sigh and look over at Tim. "It's late, y'know. Why don't you come inside, at least rest a bit before continuing on?" I suggest to him, somewhat hoping he will accept my offer. He looks at the clock on the radio. I'm not wrong about it being late. He smiles at me.

"Sure, why not?"