#fastest road cars

[indeedgoodman]

#speed #fast #car #vehicle #art #design #luxury #model #legend #legendary #monterey car week #fastest #road running #ferrari #ferrari f40 #FoF

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Tesla's Dieselgate

Elon Musk lies a lot. He lies about being a “utopian socialist.” He lies about being a “free speech absolutist.” He lies about which companies he founded:

https://www.businessinsider.com/tesla-cofounder-martin-eberhard-interview-history-elon-musk-ev-market-2023-2 He lies about being the “chief engineer” of those companies:

https://www.quora.com/Was-Elon-Musk-the-actual-engineer-behind-SpaceX-and-Tesla

He lies about really stupid stuff, like claiming that comsats that share the same spectrum will deliver steady broadband speeds as they add more users who each get a narrower slice of that spectrum:

https://www.eff.org/wp/case-fiber-home-today-why-fiber-superior-medium-21st-century-broadband

The fundamental laws of physics don’t care about this bullshit, but people do. The comsat lie convinced a bunch of people that pulling fiber to all our homes is literally impossible — as though the electrical and phone lines that come to our homes now were installed by an ancient, lost civilization. Pulling new cabling isn’t a mysterious art, like embalming pharaohs. We do it all the time. One of the poorest places in America installed universal fiber with a mule named “Ole Bub”:

https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us

Previous tech barons had “reality distortion fields,” but Musk just blithely contradicts himself and pretends he isn’t doing so, like a budget Steve Jobs. There’s an entire site devoted to cataloging Musk’s public lies:

https://elonmusk.today/

But while Musk lacks the charm of earlier Silicon Valley grifters, he’s much better than they ever were at running a long con. For years, he’s been promising “full self driving…next year.”

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

He’s hasn’t delivered, but he keeps claiming he has, making Teslas some of the deadliest cars on the road:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/06/10/tesla-autopilot-crashes-elon-musk/

Tesla is a giant shell-game masquerading as a car company. The important thing about Tesla isn’t its cars, it’s Tesla’s business arrangement, the Tesla-Financial Complex:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/24/no-puedo-pagar-no-pagara/#Rat

Once you start unpacking Tesla’s balance sheets, you start to realize how much the company depends on government subsidies and tax-breaks, combined with selling carbon credits that make huge, planet-destroying SUVs possible, under the pretense that this is somehow good for the environment:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy

But even with all those financial shenanigans, Tesla’s got an absurdly high valuation, soaring at times to 1600x its profitability:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/15/hoover-calling/#intangibles

That valuation represents a bet on Tesla’s ability to extract ever-higher rents from its customers. Take Tesla’s batteries: you pay for the battery when you buy your car, but you don’t own that battery. You have to rent the right to use its full capacity, with Tesla reserving the right to reduce how far you go on a charge based on your willingness to pay:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/09/10/teslas-demon-haunted-cars-in-irmas-path-get-a-temporary-battery-life-boost/

That’s just one of the many rent-a-features that Tesla drivers have to shell out for. You don’t own your car at all: when you sell it as a used vehicle, Tesla strips out these features you paid for and makes the next driver pay again, reducing the value of your used car and transfering it to Tesla’s shareholders:

https://www.theverge.com/2020/2/6/21127243/tesla-model-s-autopilot-disabled-remotely-used-car-update

To maintain this rent-extraction racket, Tesla uses DRM that makes it a felony to alter your own car’s software without Tesla’s permission. This is the root of all autoenshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

This is technofeudalism. Whereas capitalists seek profits (income from selling things), feudalists seek rents (income from owning the things other people use). If Telsa were a capitalist enterprise, then entrepreneurs could enter the market and sell mods that let you unlock the functionality in your own car:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/11/1-in-3/#boost-50

But because Tesla is a feudal enterprise, capitalists must first secure permission from the fief, Elon Musk, who decides which companies are allowed to compete with him, and how.

Once a company owns the right to decide which software you can run, there’s no limit to the ways it can extract rent from you. Blocking you from changing your device’s software lets a company run overt scams on you. For example, they can block you from getting your car independently repaired with third-party parts.

But they can also screw you in sneaky ways. Once a device has DRM on it, Section 1201 of the DMCA makes it a felony to bypass that DRM, even for legitimate purposes. That means that your DRM-locked device can spy on you, and because no one is allowed to explore how that surveillance works, the manufacturer can be incredibly sloppy with all the personal info they gather:

https://www.cnbc.com/2019/03/29/tesla-model-3-keeps-data-like-crash-videos-location-phone-contacts.html

All kinds of hidden anti-features can lurk in your DRM-locked car, protected from discovery, analysis and criticism by the illegality of bypassing the DRM. For example, Teslas have a hidden feature that lets them lock out their owners and summon a repo man to drive them away if you have a dispute about a late payment:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

DRM is a gun on the mantlepiece in Act I, and by Act III, it goes off, revealing some kind of ugly and often dangerous scam. Remember Dieselgate? Volkswagen created a line of demon-haunted cars: if they thought they were being scrutinized (by regulators measuring their emissions), they switched into a mode that traded performance for low emissions. But when they believed themselves to be unobserved, they reversed this, emitting deadly levels of NOX but delivering superior mileage.

The conversion of the VW diesel fleet into mobile gas-chambers wouldn’t have been possible without DRM. DRM adds a layer of serious criminal jeopardy to anyone attempting to reverse-engineer and study any device, from a phone to a car. DRM let Apple claim to be a champion of its users’ privacy even as it spied on them from asshole to appetite:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Now, Tesla is having its own Dieselgate scandal. A stunning investigation by Steve Stecklow and Norihiko Shirouzu for Reuters reveals how Tesla was able to create its own demon-haunted car, which systematically deceived drivers about its driving range, and the increasingly desperate measures the company turned to as customers discovered the ruse:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/tesla-batteries-range/

The root of the deception is very simple: Tesla mis-sells its cars by falsely claiming ranges that those cars can’t attain. Every person who ever bought a Tesla was defrauded.

But this fraud would be easy to detect. If you bought a Tesla rated for 353 miles on a charge, but the dashboard range predictor told you that your fully charged car could only go 150 miles, you’d immediately figure something was up. So your Telsa tells another lie: the range predictor tells you that you can go 353 miles.

But again, if the car continued to tell you it has 203 miles of range when it was about to run out of charge, you’d figure something was up pretty quick — like, the first time your car ran out of battery while the dashboard cheerily informed you that you had 203 miles of range left.

So Teslas tell a third lie: when the battery charge reached about 50%, the fake range is replaced with the real one. That way, drivers aren’t getting mass-stranded by the roadside, and the scam can continue.

But there’s a new problem: drivers whose cars are rated for 353 miles but can’t go anything like that far on a full charge naturally assume that something is wrong with their cars, so they start calling Tesla service and asking to have the car checked over.

This creates a problem for Tesla: those service calls can cost the company $1,000, and of course, there’s nothing wrong with the car. It’s performing exactly as designed. So Tesla created its boldest fraud yet: a boiler-room full of anti-salespeople charged with convincing people that their cars weren’t broken.

This new unit — the “diversion team” — was headquartered in a Nevada satellite office, which was equipped with a metal xylophone that would be rung in triumph every time a Tesla owner was successfully conned into thinking that their car wasn’t defrauding them.

When a Tesla owner called this boiler room, the diverter would run remote diagnostics on their car, then pronounce it fine, and chide the driver for having energy-hungry driving habits (shades of Steve Jobs’s “You’re holding it wrong”):

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

The drivers who called the Diversion Team weren’t just lied to, they were also punished. The Tesla app was silently altered so that anyone who filed a complaint about their car’s range was no longer able to book a service appointment for any reason. If their car malfunctioned, they’d have to request a callback, which could take several days.

Meanwhile, the diverters on the diversion team were instructed not to inform drivers if the remote diagnostics they performed detected any other defects in the cars.

The diversion team had a 750 complaint/week quota: to juke this stat, diverters would close the case for any driver who failed to answer the phone when they were eventually called back. The center received 2,000+ calls every week. Diverters were ordered to keep calls to five minutes or less.

Eventually, diverters were ordered to cease performing any remote diagnostics on drivers’ cars: a source told Reuters that “Thousands of customers were told there is nothing wrong with their car” without any diagnostics being performed.

Predicting EV range is an inexact science as many factors can affect battery life, notably whether a journey is uphill or downhill. Every EV automaker has to come up with a figure that represents some kind of best guess under a mix of conditions. But while other manufacturers err on the side of caution, Tesla has the most inaccurate mileage estimates in the industry, double the industry average.

Other countries’ regulators have taken note. In Korea, Tesla was fined millions and Elon Musk was personally required to state that he had deceived Tesla buyers. The Korean regulator found that the true range of Teslas under normal winter conditions was less than half of the claimed range.

Now, many companies have been run by malignant narcissists who lied compulsively — think of Thomas Edison, archnemesis of Nikola Tesla himself. The difference here isn’t merely that Musk is a deeply unfit monster of a human being — but rather, that DRM allows him to defraud his customers behind a state-enforced opaque veil. The digital computers at the heart of a Tesla aren’t just demons haunting the car, changing its performance based on whether it believes it is being observed — they also allow Musk to invoke the power of the US government to felonize anyone who tries to peer into the black box where he commits his frauds.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

This Sunday (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.

Image ID [A scene out of an 11th century tome on demon-summoning called 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros. Anno 1057. Noli me tangere.' It depicts a demon tormenting two unlucky would-be demon-summoners who have dug up a grave in a graveyard. One summoner is held aloft by his hair, screaming; the other screams from inside the grave he is digging up. The scene has been altered to remove the demon's prominent, urinating penis, to add in a Tesla supercharger, and a red Tesla Model S nosing into the scene.]

Image: Steve Jurvetson (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tesla_Model_S_Indoors.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #steve stecklow #autoenshittification #norihiko shirouzu #reuters #you're holding it wrong #r2r #right to repair #range rage #range anxiety #grifters #demon-haunted world #drm #tpms #1201 #dmca 1201 #tesla #evs #electric vehicles #ftc act section 5 #unfair and deceptive practices #automotive #enshittification #elon musk

[imaginaryf1shots]

Rival? Friend? Lover | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.8K

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader

Summery: (REQUESTED) You and Max have been rivals for so long but does that mean you hate him, did you ever hate each other.

Masterlist

Getting into F1 as a female was always deemed impossible, only on the basis that you are a female. The mostly male sport was never welcoming to different people who do  it for their mould, doesn't matter how many videos they do or empty words they say. However, that didn't stop you from trying. Driving in F1 has always been your dream, you didn't care about other motorsports, you wanted to be a part of the pinnacle of motorsports, to race in the best and fastest cars in the world. Getting there wasn't easy, the road was filled with blood sweat and tears and  ups and downs, more downs than ups, but nonetheless here you are today the first female in over 30 years racing an F1 car. And so is your rival Max Verstappen.

It's a well known fact between everyone who's into F1 that you don't have to be enemies to be rivals, as evident by all the friendships on the grid, but you and Max seemed like you're enemies. Since you've been in your karting days and you've always been against each other, always trying to best the other. So many edits of your rivally from Karting to F1 have made their way online.

*

“Max is right behind.” your race Engineer says through the radio.

“Really? I didn't notice.” You day dryly focusing on defending from the number 1 car behind you. He's all over your mirrors. “What is wrong with him? The track is too narrow for this shit.”

“Just focus on defending.” The RE says and you would've rolled your eyes if it weren't for the fact that you're racing at a high speed. 

“Please stop talking!” You're stressed, Max is about to get DRS on you. You're turning the corner before a straight, and what do you know it seems your years of racing together affected your driving because you both went right at the same time and he had DRS on you, causing his car to slam straight into yours. The world stops for a moment, you let go of the steering wheel and hold your breath. You hit the wall once and stop, not a second later Max’s car slams into yours. Red flag is instantly issued and you breathe. Both cars are damaged with bits all over the track.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Your RE asks and you take a breath before saying you're okay. Adrenaline is rushing through your body and you lean back going through your limbs seeing where it hurts.

The moment Max’s car stops he gets out of the car and rushes to your car, he doesn't see you getting out making his heart beat in his chest as dread washes all over him. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” Max shouts going to your car, you look up at him through the visor, his visor is up so you can see his worried eyes looking at you. “Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so.” You say and take out your wheel and slowly stand up, Max has his arms in the air to help you if you need it. The Marshalls are arriving and you jump out of the car, Max has his arm on your back as you get your balance back. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asks, seeing how out of balance you are.

“Yeah, just a bit shocked.” You mutter not sure if he heard you or  not. But the safety car is here, and a Marshall leads you to the car to be taken to the medical bay.

You're out of there in no time, walking out you find Max standing near the entrance.

“Did you get hurt?” You ask the Dutch driver, he looks up at the sound of your voice taking you in, your hair is loose and the suit is by your waist. 

“No.” 

“Why are you still here then?” You ask him frowning.

“What, you own the medical bay now?” He says and you scoff, shaking your head at his tone and words, you show him your middle finger as you walk past him. Max curses himself and looks at your figure walking away asking himself the million dollar question ‘since when do I care about this nuisance Well being?’ 

Later on Max is with Lando after the race at a club, with a few drinks in each they're both feeling the effects of the alcohol.

“You know with the crash today, if it was anyone other than y/n you would've had their head for the crash.” Lando says and wiggles his eyebrows teasingly at the RedBull driver.

“No I wouldn't, that's old me.” Max mutters while taking a sip from his drink.

“You literally had a fight with Ocon a few races ago because he clipped your front wing, mind you, you still came first.” Lando points out and Max says nothing. “Also a birdie told me you stayed at the med bay to check on her.”

“Huh, and who might this birdy be?” Max asks and Lando does the motion of zipping his lips. “ you know if you keep saying things like this i'll go find someone else to drink with.”

“I'm sure you'll find y/n somewhere around here.” 

Lando laughs as Max leaves him in the direction of the bar.

*

At another race week, y/n is in the media conference after a race at your home race.

“Y/n, tell me it's been a tough getting past the RedBulls and especially Max, it's been a while since you got a win and some had their hopes on you today, and a lot of the fans are upset and are saying that its become boring now with Max winning every week, what's your take on this?”

“Uh, I feel like it's a bit unfair.” You say looking at the interviewer, Max is literally next to you on the sofa, sometimes you wonder what the interviewers expect to happen when they ask things like this. “It's unfair to hate on someone just because they're winning, you can't expect someone to lose when they can win, if I was in his position I'd give it my all and try to win as much as I could as well.” You shrug. “So all the booing and the hate makes no sense to me and frankly it's unfair.”

“So you don't want to win?” They ask and you frown.

“Where did I ever say that, of course I want to win, I wouldn't still be driving if I didn't think that, this is my home race of course I wanted to win but that's besides the point.” They open their mouth to ask something else and you roll your eyes before cutting them off. “Thank you, next question and to someone else please, I'm not entertaining this any further.”

You place your microphone next to you and take one out of Lewis's books and put on your sunglasses, you're clearly unamused. 

It takes everything in you not to look at Max and wish for this to be over already.

Later on you're walking with Alex and George. “You know I thought you and Max are like the biggest enemies in F1 history.”

You roll your eyes at Alex's words and say nothing.

“Me too, but did you hear her at the conference?” 

“Piss off both of you, I mean I barely said anything, I just don't get how so many people hate on him just for winning, yes I'm tired of the RB dominance but you can't hate an athlete for just winning. How is that girl?” You ramble a bit not realising the looks the taller drivers shared.

“I don't think you realise how you and Max aren't enemies any more.” You scoff at George's words and cross your arms.

“He's still annoying and stuck up.” You mutter frowning.

“You're convincing no one.” Alex says and you sigh.

“Okay whatever, see you later losers.” You say and break off from them to head to your motorhome.

You hear them laughing and flip them over your shoulder. Making them laugh even more.

*

You blame luck, honestly why is your luck so bad? What are the chances of you and Max staying in the same hotel, and what are the chances for you to be in the same left at the same time. AND what are the chances of it breaking down.

“What the heck?” You ask once the left stops moving, you were looking at your phone since you got on. Your eyes fell onto the other rider, who you just realised is Max.

Max presses the floor numbers before pressing the help one. Nothing. 

“Press the help button.” You say.

“What do you think I just did?” Max says frustrated you unlock your phone only to see no signal.

“Do you have a signal?” 

“No.” 

A few minutes later you're sitting on the elevator floor with Max sitting on the other side. You've been silent for a while before Max broke the silence.

"You know, someone said we would make the perfect team." He said out of nowhere. 

"Eww! No!" Was your natural response.

"That's what I thought." Max said and you fell into silence once more. 

“Why do you think we wouldn't make a good team?” You ask Mqx curious about his answer.

“You literally said no too.” Max replied.

“I know… but why do you think that.?” 

“I don't know, we've always been rivals, to be teammates and work together it's just… it's weird.” Max says and you hummed. “What about you? Why do you think we wouldn't make a good team?”

“It's the same I guess.” You shrug and look at your fingers, thinking it over you don't know why, being Max's rival has been all you know for so many years, it's like second nature to you, but thinking back you don't think he's ever done anything to warrant the hate that you realise is not there anymore. You're not sure if it ever was. You whisper. “I'm trying so hard to hate you.” 

“why?” Max asks and you look at him only to find him already looking at you. 

“I have no idea, you've been my biggest rival since we were kids and it's ingrained in me to not like you, but, I don't think we have to hate each other to be rivals.” You say not to overthink the words coming out before you say them. “I just realised that I have no reason to hate you and I don't think that I ever did.”

“To be honest we were kids and then teenagers, lots of unbalanced hormones there.” Max points out and you agree with him, there's a long moment of silence before he says “I don't think I've hated you for a long time as well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It takes another ten minutes before the left is working again and you're out. Later that day you get a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Number

Hey its Max

I got your number from Lando

Y/N

Hey it's okay 

What's up?

Max

I know it might be weird but

Do you want to go out with me?

Y/N

Like a date?

Max

Yeah

Y/N

When and where 

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max Verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #enemies to lovers

[spirit-lanterns]

FAST AND FURIOUS

synopsis: you catch the eye of the infamous street racer.

featuring: kafka, serval, seele, stelle, bronya

rating: 18+ n.s.fw (men and minors dni)

warnings: street racer! AU, dom! afab female reader (bronya), sub! afab female reader (kafka, serval, seele, stelle), car se.x, fingering, se.x while driving, cunnilingus, face riding, strap on, illegal street racing (obviously).

art credits: initial D

KAFKA

Street racer Kafka! Who catches you staring at her when she pulls up to the starting line in her sleek, jet black car. It’s smooth and elegant, just like her, as she beckons you to come over to her window, gloved finger enticing you to come closer…

Street racer Kafka! Who takes your hand into hers and plants a sweet kiss to your wrist. Her bold, red lipstick marks you as hers as she flashes you a flirty wink through the window. “For good luck, sweet girl. When I win, I want to take you home with me…”

Street racer Kafka! Who smirks when you shamelessly grow flustered and agree, letting you walk back to the crowd as she gets ready to win the race of a lifetime for you. She had plans of where to take you tonight after all. You were the one she was after, not the prize money…

Street racer Kafka! Who, as you may have guessed, wins the race by a landslide as she pulls back up to the starting line and gets out of the car, smirking and sweeping back her sweaty hair as she wanted nothing more than to get her prize. You. 

Street racer Kafka! Who chuckles as you fawn over her and pulls you in by the waist to kiss you, placing her sunglasses over your head and officially sealing you as her prize for tonight. And maybe forever, who knows…

Street racer Kafka! Who drives you back to her hotel with you in her car. Her hand on your thigh as you can’t help but follow it as it goes up up up… practically stroking up to your clothed pussy and playing with the buckle of your shorts. “I don’t think I can wait anymore, sweet girl…” Kafka purrs lowly, one hand on the wheel while the other begins to tug your shorts downward. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes on the road…”

Street racer Kafka! Who slips her fingers into your panties and starts massaging your clit with her eyes glued to the road, her experienced driving making you wetter than you already were as she was just so good at multitasking. 

Street racer Kafka! Who starts plunging her fingers deep into your walls and driving her fingers faster as she accelerates. The car streaking down the road as the adrenaline of speeding and getting fucked by Kafka at the same time had you squirming and squeezing at her fingers. “Let’s see if I can get you to finish in time…” She laughs softly, deciding it was time for the main event.

Street racer Kafka! Who has you squirting all over her hand and passenger seat as she pulls up to the hotel parking lot with a smirk, slowly pulling out her fingers from beneath you and humming in satisfaction at the mess. “Looks like I won again…”

SERVAL

Street racer Serval! Who is an experienced mechanic and personally built her car to make it the fastest anyone has ever seen. Not only is it fast, it’s flashy, and Serval grins with confidence as she leans against the hood of her car with her arms folded, waiting for the race to start.

Street racer Serval! Who notices you admiring her car (and her) and smirks to summon you over for a closer look. “Don’t be shy, you can take a closer look…” she grins, taking your hand as she shows you all the special little features of her car. “Pretty isn’t she? She’s a beauty, just like you…” 

Street racer Serval! Who sighs when the crowd gathers to finally start the race, a smile stretching upon her lips before casting a small wink over to you. “Wish me luck, princess. I’m winning this for you!” She flashes you a blinding smile and gets into her car, revving up the engine as she prepares for sweet, sweet victory.

Street racer Serval! Who wins her race with ease and gets out of the car with satisfaction, fist pumping the air before taking her custom helmet off and smirking. “Phew…that was a close one…!”  she laughs out humbley, dropping her helmet to the floor as she waves you over to come join her on the stand. 

Street racer Serval! Who’s all sweaty and messy from the ride, yet still looks hot as ever as she pulls you in for a hug and lifts you off the ground, so happy to have won for you. “Taking you out to eat, what do you say?” She smiles flirtatiously, looking at you with hope in her eyes. Of course you agreed…

Street racer Serval! Who took you out to eat but not in the way you were expecting. Her face buried deep in your folds as she licked and speared her tongue into your hole to taste all you had to offer. “Tastes like victory alright…” she couldn’t help but joke, lifting up your thighs to keep you spread as she ate you out quicker than she could even drive her car.

Street racer Serval! Who was currently eating you out on her winning car in an abandoned parking lot after the race. Your legs spread over the top of her painted hood, as she wanted nothing more than to see your cum drip down your legs and onto the glossy paint that she herself had applied. “Don’t worry, I could always give her a good ole scrub. For now though, you could make a mess of her however you please…”

Street racer Serval! Who groans when she sees how much you leak onto her car, glistening cum sliding down her hood as she smirks and licks it all up…

SEELE

Street racer Seele! Who is rough around the edges and comes in with a slightly scarred yet durable car. She was a champion racer long before this race, and this car was the one that helped her win on many numerous occasions…

Street racer Seele! Who can’t help but let her eyes wander through the crowd and spot you smiling in the distance. Her cheeks go red at the sight before she blushes and looks away, grumbling to herself and scratching the back of her neck nervously. 

Street racer Seele! Who was usually very confident and snarky before her races. Seele was known to be a very reckless and “go with the flow” kind of driver so she had survived many dangerous stunts and tricks. However, it was her first time racing in front of such a pretty girl like yourself, and she couldn’t help but want to show off to you. 

Street racer Seele! Who blushes as you hand her a water bottle and say “good luck!” to her in that sweet little voice of yours. It had Seele smiling awkwardly as she flashes you a confident smirk. “Thanks. That money is as good as mine…”

Street racer Seele! Who speeds through the road and decides to go the extra mile to show off to you on the cameras. Taking a quick yet very dangerous detour with ease and sliding right through to first place. 

Street racer Seele! Who’s slick back hair is all wild and messy the moment she gets out of her car, heart thumping from the adrenaline as she just pulled off some of the most dangerous stunts known to man for you. The moment she sees you cheering and running over, she laughs and shyly takes your hand, squeezing it before kissing the top of it charmingly. “You’re a cute cheerleader…”

Street racer Seele! Who blushes madly when you grab her hand and whisper seductively in her ear. Telling her how she “deserves a wild ride tonight and should go a round or two” with you. The racer too flustered to even fathom the thought of saying no to you. 

Street racer Seele! Who is gasping for air underneath your cunt as you ride her face to your heart’s content. Hands gripping on her dark purple as you moan and writhe at her tongue thrusting in and out of you. She’s so fast, so lithe. The leather of her gloves gripped your hips firmly as she drove your body back and forth on her tongue, savoring the tang and precum of your body…

Street racer Seele! Who looks up at you dreamily in the dusk of her backseat car. Breath coursing through her throat as she groans and pushes her nose deeper against your clit, too sex-drunk in her prize to notice how you’re tensing up on her touch. Too dumb to realize until it was too late, as you creamed all over her face and let it spill down on the leather seats of her car…

STELLE

Street racer Stelle! Who arrives at the race in a battered up and beaten down car. Does she care? Of course not. This trashed up car is her baby and she loves it! No matter how many people laugh at her…

Street racer Stelle! Who just looks so cute and happy to be there as she looks around with big ole puppy dog-like eyes. She spots you smiling at her in the distance and gives you a playful wave. Honestly, you felt bad that everyone was laughing at her vehicle, she was just too cute! And she didn’t deserve to be teased like this…

Street racer Stelle! Who seems to ignore all the teasing and flashes you the most confident of smiles! She jogs up to you with contagious excitement and shakes your hand as you approach. “I saw you looking at my car. Do you like it? I scrapped it myself…!” Ahhhhh that was adorable and you couldn’t help but agree. How could you not love this woman? She was adorable!

Street racer Stelle! Who tosses you a good luck charm before running back to go start her car. It was a small, battered up raccoon keychain with the fur all matted and gray from use. You didn’t mind, in fact your heart swooned at the sight as the little chubby raccoon plush reminded you of the goofy woman.

Street racer Stelle! Who…surprisingly wins the race!? When she gets out of her car she has a look of pure shock and adrenaline before grinning and fist bumping the air. “Noice!” She chants, looking over at you in the crowd with a smile. “My good luck charm worked…!”

Street racer Stelle! Who is way too happy about winning the race with her dingy old car. So much so that she rushes up to you and gives you a big hug, lifting you off the ground with hidden strength and smiling ever so sunnily. She has to show her gratitude! She has to!

Street racer Stelle! Who shows her gratitude to you by pounding into you with a strap on she had in her car. Happy grunts emitting from the overgrown puppy woman, as she sinks her cock deeper into your walls and loving how you twitched and gripped onto her shoulders for dear life. “Is that good? I hope it’s good…nngh…mmpf…”

Street racer Stelle! Who doesn’t stop when you climax for a second time, or a third, or a fourth. Her relentless stamina allows her to keep plowing you with your legs in the air as she spears you open with all that she has. “Thank you…thank you thank you thank you…” she’s so grateful and happy to please, gasping and kissing your neck feverishly. “You deserve more…I’ll give you more…”

Street racer Stelle! Who leaves your legs sore and neck covered in bites the following morning. The poor puppy woman looking at you with an apologetic gaze, before murmuring a small “Sorry…” when she sees you unable to walk…

BRONYA

Street racer Bronya! Who is the heiress of a wealthy family but sneaks out at night to drive in street races. She always pulls up in a sleek, brand new and expensive car that she borrowed from her mom, but that’s okay because her family has like eleven others hidden away in their garage…

Street racer Bronya! Who people thought was too delicate and princess-like to race in such dangerous events, yet here she was. Dressed in leather attire and a stone cold look on her face as she prepared herself for the race. She’s not overconfident or cocky, but you could tell she was a professional given how calm she was at the starting line. 

Street racer Bronya! Who glances at you through the crowd and keeps silent as she watches. You’re a pretty face, and it’s cute how curious you look as you admire her expensive uniform and car. ‘I suppose I could treat her for the night…’ Bronya thinks, ‘Perhaps I’ll even get her to experience the ride with me…’

Street racer Bronya! Who somehow gets you to sit in the passenger seat of her car before the big race. Her calm nature puts you at ease despite how dangerous street racing can be. “No need to worry, I’ll keep you safe.” She says softly, a gentle smile splayed on her lips. As she kicks the engine to start…

Street racer Bronya! Who’s car is so fast and sleek, it sends your heart rate racing. Despite the speed bursts however, Bronya makes sure to keep one hand over your chest to protect you everytime she makes a sharp turn. Gray eyes sharp and focused, as she keeps a hand on the steering wheel while protecting you at the same time.

Street racer Bronya! Who streaks through the finish line with you cheering on beside her. A soft chuckle emitting from her throat before glancing over at you. “How was that? Pretty nice, hm?” She blushes when you suddenly lean in to kiss her cheek, eyes wide before laughing bashfully at the reward. “Ah…thank you…”

Street racer Bronya! Who somehow found herself gasping in her seat with your fingers playfully teasing her. Unable to hear what you were saying as the most she could make out was “so good…” and “you deserve this, doll…”

Street racer Bronya! Who is just so surprisingly cute and whiny under that cold exterior. Gripping onto your wrist and trying to push your fingers even deeper while she moves her other hand to unzip the leather racing uniform. As the zipper is seperated, Bronya’s cute breasts spill out from beneath the confines and urge you to move over and fondle them. You cooed at how cute she was reacting to your touch, as she was acting like such a spoiled princess that you always knew she was…

Street racer Bronya! Who realizes she has to get back home before her mother wakes up, but decides ‘fuck it’ and continues riding your fingers with lust. Tongue lolled out in utter ecstasy as she drives your fingers faster than she could drive her car…

#kafka smut #kafka x reader #serval smut #serval x reader #seele smut #seele x reader #stelle smut #stelle x reader #bronya smut #bronya x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #star rail smut #star rail x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

You were the warmth and light to Bucky’s shadows and brooding nature — a match made in heaven, and it was a miracle that a certain someone realised as much.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Fluff, mention of alcohol

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✿ My very first grumpy x sunshine fic, and it was hella fun! a huge thank you to all those who listened to me deliberate what the hell to do with it! ✿ A huge thank you to @mxaether for the fact checking and guidance - you were a huge help!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — Tattoo AU — Masterlist

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The anniversary of 107th Ink was always going to be special, and this one perhaps was one of the biggest years – seven whole years since both Bucky and Stevie had walked through those doors with a dream, a dream that had flourished and blown up with their combined talents and charisma. 

In order to celebrate, 107th Ink had announced a surprise flash day. And, as anyone would have expected from the fastest growing tattoo parlour in the area, it was chaos – actually, chaotic was an understatement, and for this very reason, you had parked your car a block away from Bucky’s shop with a box of donuts in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. 

You would be a sight for sore, tired eyes, that was for sure.

Bucky’s Harley was parked on the verge, the shining red paint and reflective chrome shone in the light of the setting sun. The many rides you had taken with Bucky on that very bike came to the forefront of your mind, and you smiled fondly at the memories; the time he had taken you down the back roads for a picnic after you had finally convinced him to put his machine down, or that time that he took you down the highway, resting his hand on yours that had looped tightly around his middle. 

You and Bucky had been friends for years – he was certainly by far the gruffest and honest to god most intimidating man you had ever met, but somehow, he softened around you. Ever since Natasha had introduced you to him, you had felt an instant connection to the infamous brooding vet, and it left the two of you on a path you had no idea how to navigate. It was becoming difficult to ignore the butterflies that crowded your entire being when he flashed you a rare smile, or called you his Sunshine. 

But that was a thought for another day – Bucky needed his Jacks and Stevie would need his donuts, not to mention Nat and Peter squirrelling away what they could of either offering.

And, after your own intense and exhausting day with work and clients, you had to admit, it would be nice to see your friends. 

The door to the shop swung open with a clink of the bell, and you took in the scene. Bucky’s interior design choices screamed Rock’n’Roll with guitars lining the walls, all in various states of artistic liberty of designs and signatures. Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me played quietly over the hustle and bustle, a constant background noise amongst the many conversations held between artists and clients you could only just hear. Soft lighting illuminated the entry and reception where black leather couches were placed cosily – no clients were lazing about so you suspected they were all in the booths. The shining tiled floor reflected the reds of the walls and the mahogany oak accents like it was freshly polished. 

Bucky’s standards of professionalism and cleanliness were high, and hell hath no fury for anyone that compromised them. 

“Hey, Sunshine!” A bright voice called from an open door – Peter’s booth, and you looked over to see the aforementioned excited apprentice poking his head out. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes-” You stifled a laugh, smiling instead. “Bucky is just over there,” Peter said, gesturing towards a closed door. “He’ll be out soon, nervous client.”

“Thanks, Pete,” you said, and he grinned at you and the donuts in your hand before disappearing back into the booth. 

As expected, time passed slowly and you watched while a couple of clients milled out of the booths – Stevie’s, Nat’s and Peter’s. You caught sight of Stevie and Nat occasionally, and they spared you an excited wave or smile when they could – their gazes drifting to the treats you had brought with you. 

The sun had set by the time Bucky’s booth had any sign of movement. His door opened and a timid young woman appeared in the doorway – she was speaking over her shoulder and once she glanced towards the couches, you gave her a soft smile and she walked past you to Peter at the front desk to pay.

Peter greeted her happily and began the process of the transaction, but heavy boot falls in the booth made your gaze snap towards the source, smiling wide at finding Bucky leaning against the frame, arms crossed so his tattoos rippled and moved with the corded muscle. He was staring at you with a blank expression, null and void of any tells, though there was a glimmer of happiness in his eyes that filled your heart and fuelled the butterflies to a dull roar. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, you!” You rushed, getting to your feet just as the young woman left the shop. As soon as she was out the door, there was a collective exhale of breath in relief. “Tough day?”

“What gave it away, Sunny?” Steve groaned as he stood in the doorway of his own booth, rubbing his face and mussing his hair and neatly trimmed beard. “It seemed that flash day means all the tough clients come outta the woods at once.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat piped up, stretching to the ceiling and cracking her back. The burgundy leather jacket she wore gleamed in the low light while it complemented her creeping neck tattoos. “I had all the sweet ones then.”

“Yeah, because you intimidate the shit out of ‘em, Nat,” Bucky said, a brow raised in challenge. Nat only shrugged, a coy grin on her blood red lips. 

“Today was fun though,” Peter yawned, and you watched as Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes in unison. 

“Trust the apprentice to be all rainbows and shit,” Bucky mumbled. “Let’s close up for the night. I wanna go home.”

Everyone left the reception in favour of returning to their booths, and you followed behind Bucky, bottle of Jacks in hand. The donuts lay on the table amongst the neatly stacked portfolios for later – that’s if Steve and Nat didn’t run off with them before you could walk out the door. 

“How are you feeling, Buck?” You asked, watching as he flexed his left arm and clenched his hand in a fist before releasing it with a wince. “Are you alright?”

Bucky looked over at you and nodded once. “‘M fine, sweetheart,” he said softly while he cleaned up the tray of ink caps and the rest of his station. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good,” you said, maybe a little too quick, because Bucky’s gaze snapped up and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I’m being honest-”

Slowly, Bucky stepped around from his cart and came to stand right in front of you, his gaze heavy with that critical eye and his habit for problem solving. “No, you’re not, Sunshine.”

Damn it, you cursed in your head, and it must have traitorously flickered across your expression because Bucky hesitated only slightly before his arms suddenly enveloped you and pulled you against his chest. The sudden movement forced a quiet, “oof!” from your lips before you could bite it back – though the feeling of him holding you, as rare as it was, was never unwelcome. 

“I know you like hugs, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his voice just a low rumble in his chest. “Jus’ lemme hold you for a minute, alright?”

Your heart seized and tears burned in the corner of your eyes at his words. Bucky held you so tightly and you were forced to loop your arms around his middle while you rested your cheek on his shoulder – it was indescribable. 

Touch was not something Bucky gave freely – sure, it was his job to touch and manipulate and move clients, but it never meant anything more than him just doing his job. He never initiated a hug to Nat, Steve, or even Peter, it was something entirely off the table for him, though here he was, pushing past what he would normally be comfortable with and initiating such a tender embrace to you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you mumbled. Bucky squeezed you tight for just a second in reply, and when he relaxed his hold, the vice in your chest had lessened significantly.

“Jus’ wanna take care of my girl, ‘s all,” Bucky said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you stiffened. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky hastened, his voice suddenly sharp and he pulled away, leaving you standing by the chair, dumbfounded and in shock. “Forget I said anything, let’s get outta here, huh?”

“No, no wait,” you rushed forward, grabbing his arm while you felt your eyes shine with tears – from what: fear, shock, or happiness, you couldn’t tell. “What did you say?”

A long stretch of silence passed before Bucky met your pleading gaze, but he was frowning slightly, as if he was considering every outcome in the blink of an eye. It was unbearable, and you shook his arm slightly, ignoring the way the muscles didn’t budge under your grip. 

“I said I wanted to take care of my girl.”

The tension cracked and split like a whip had cleaved through it, and a heavy breath left your lips. “Your girl?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding stiffly. 

“Are you-” You tried, but stopped. The sudden dryness in your mouth made it difficult to form the words. “Are you saying… what I think you’re saying?”

Bucky held your stare. “Yes.”

“Oh, my god,” you rushed, and you slammed into his chest to wrap your arms around his middle again – this time he was the one that let out a surprised “oof!” before he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 

“Took you fuckin’ long enough!” Steve cried suddenly and you whirled around. Somehow, while engrossed in your panicked train of thought, and Bucky being stuck in his own version of panicking, Steve and Nat had quietly opened the door to eavesdrop. “Nat, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Dammit,” Nat grumbled before her heels clicked on the floor, the sound muffling the further she walked away. 

The fact that they had placed bets on this didn’t leave you feeling surprised in the slightest, if you were honest – Nat had known something was up, naturally, and she made it a point to stare expectantly whenever you would become flustered by literally anything Bucky did: paying special attention to you, calling you Sunshine, or how he was fiercely protective of you, all of which you found out when you went out to coffee with her. She had snorted and laughed at the obviously hilarious expression of shock upon finding any of that out – you had thought you were subtle, dammit.

Stevie, well, he was Bucky’s best friend – you can only hide so much from the person you were with most, if not all of the working day. It also didn’t help Stevie was a nosy sonofabitch on the best of days. “Can’t make a plan without all the variables, Sunny,” Stevie would say smugly whenever you questioned him, a proud, knowing smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

You glanced up at Bucky to see him burning holes through the door to the back of his friends as they made a hasty retreat – there was no way he was clued in on that little game. 

“Hey, guys, wait up!” Peter yelled as the bell sounded, followed by his rushed footsteps. “See you tomorrow, Boss!” Bucky didn’t reply as the door closed behind Peter and the shop was silent again – just the two of you. 

The slight furrow in his brow and the pensive frown on his lips made your hands grow clammy with nervous sweat; you couldn’t tell what Bucky was thinking, and it was infuriating. 

Minutes stretched by, or seconds, you couldn’t tell – you were trapped in his gaze, lost in the thoughts racing through your mind, did he truly mean what he said?

You startled slightly when Bucky’s hand suddenly cupped your cheek, not having seen him move his arm. “So,” he said slowly. The softening of his eyes made your heart flutter – this was your Bucky, a gentle, soft soul that looked out for you. 

“Bucky?” You whispered. Bucky only hummed quietly, moving his hands to hold both of yours, the cold bite of his rings caused a shiver to crawl up your spine.

“What d’you say, Sunshine?” Bucky asked, still slow and thoughtful, like he was weighing every word. The tension grew to be unbearable and it was all you could do to keep your breathing even, you wished his intense gaze would waver, or he would look away – just for a damned second.

You licked your lips, shuffling your feet on the spot. “That depends on what you’re as-”

“Be my girl?”

Time stopped. Your heart stopped, ceasing its pounding rhythm for a millisecond before kick-starting thunderously. Sure, he had called you his girl more than once, but hearing him ask if you would be? You prayed to whoever would listen above that you would survive this, for you were floating on cloud nine and you did not want to come back down. 

“I-I,” you stumbled, growing even more flustered at the glint in his eyes – you couldn’t tell what he was feeling but you felt pinned, in the best possible way. “Yeah, yeah I want to be your Sunshine, Buck-”

Your stomach swooped at the sudden and entirely unexpected feeling of his lips on yours, and his hands – god, his hands, one moved to hold the side of your throat, the other cupped your face. He set the pace easily and you eagerly followed, you had been craving this for so long that it was almost unbelievable. 

To make doubly sure you weren’t dreaming, more than the desire to touch him, you ran your hands up his arms to rest them on his broad shoulders and you felt him smile into the kiss. “It’s real, sweetheart, ‘m here,” Bucky said against your lips, and you sighed happily. 

The warm smile Bucky gave you as he pulled away made you miss his touch, even though he had only taken a single step away. “I’ll finish cleanin’ up and then we can get outta here, we have a lot to celebrate, Sunshine, don’t we?”

The butterflies in your stomach became a frenzy at his words, and you nodded shyly. “They’re going to lose their minds, aren’t they?” You mused, sitting on the rolling stool while you waited for him to finish up. “Nat and the guys, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, zipping up his case. “Yeah, they will, the bastards. Bettin’ on their fuckin’ boss, I oughta fire all of ‘em.” You laughed heartily and Bucky smirked. 

Once Bucky’s station had been tidied and cleaned for the next day, he reached a hand out and you accepted it happily. “Let’s get outta here, I gotta treat my girl to a nice night, huh?”

“Only if we take your bike,” you said, squeezing Bucky’s hand and he looked over at you curiously. “I want to fly.”

Bucky only chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #Connect4AU #JAS #rookthorne's works

[drabblesandsnippets]

Drabble #2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Background: Just something I wrote in a Target parking lot waiting for my pickup order lol

Summary: Bucky listens to his girlfriend pleasure herself in the backseat of his car.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Explicit sexual content. Masturbation. Dirty talk. Praise. Slight domination.

---------------------------

She has no idea how she ended up in the backseat of his car, her skirt hiked up and her legs spread wide as she touches herself. She’s never done anything like this, but all reservations left her miles ago when Bucky pulled out of the airport parking lot, convincing her to trust him. They still have at least thirty minutes before he can get her home and he wants a show until then.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, his eyes briefly glancing at her in the rearview mirror, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Let me hear you, doll… Fuck, I missed you.” It’s been weeks of phone sex and dirty texts and all Bucky wants to do is pull the car over so he bury himself inside of her. But she deserves more than a quick fuck on the side of the road after being apart for so long. 

Her hands keep moving, following his instructions, the teasing pace driving her crazy. She could easily speed things up - he can only see her face after all - but all she wants is to please him. She’s missed him, ached for him in every way, and she’s nothing but a willing participant. One hand cups her breast inside her bra, pinching her own nipple while her other hand stays between her thighs, her fingers rubbing her clit slowly. 

Her breath gets heavier, her moans and soft gasps filling the small space as Bucky talks her through it, his words fueling her desire. “God, you’re fucking incredible,” he tells her, his cock straining against jeans, desperate for some sort of relief. He shifts slightly, glancing back at her again before returning his eyes to the road, grateful for his enhanced senses. He needs to hear her, be responsible for her pleasure, but not at the expense of her safety.

When the slow pace becomes too much, she finally asks for more, her body trembling with need. “Bucky, please.” He knows exactly what she wants, and he wants to give it to her, but if she comes before they make it off the freeway, there’s no way he’s going to be able to make it home before he has to have his way with her. So, he continues to make her wait.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he promises, “just keep touching yourself like that. Nice and slow.” Her groan of frustration is laced with pleasure, his praise making her pussy pulse. As much as she wants to complain, or take control back, it’s nothing compared to how much she gets off on submitting to him. She’ll do anything he tells her to, especially like this.

When he finally takes the familiar exit, Bucky glances at her again, turning his head slightly to let her see the smirk on his face, making her breath catch. For just a second, her hands still, her body tense with anticipation, until his voice breaks through, finally giving her permission. “I want you to fuck yourself, can you do that for me, Princess?”

He barely finishes the question before she presses her fingers against her entrance, sliding deep in one smooth motion, making herself cry out in pleasure. Her noises send a jolt straight to his cock and he resists the urge to reach down to free himself, regripping the steering wheel instead, the metal groaning under his vibranium hand.

“There we go,” he breathes, his voice rough, his eyes briefly meeting hers in the mirror. “Just like that... show me how good it feels.” He doesn’t even have to see her hand to know exactly what she’s doing. Two fingers deep inside of her, curled to press against her g-spot while she grinds her palm against her clit. It’s the fastest way to make her come, and he licks his lips at the thought of how wet she is for him.

His ears pick up all the telltale signs of her getting closer to her orgasm, her breath quick and uneven, her head thrown back against the seat. She doesn’t even realize how close they are to home now, but Bucky’s been counting down the seconds, and the moment he reaches their street, he tells her, “Can’t wait to taste you, have you ride my face until you’re screaming my name.” That’s all it takes for her to fall.

---------------------------

Part 2

Part 3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hear me out. Chauffeur takes the vees out in one of their sports cars and someone on the road challenges them to a race.

What are the reactions from each of the vees?

Drag Racing

PolyVees x GN!Reader

TW:Valentino and the mentions of some NSFW

A/N:YES YES- MORE CHAUFFEUR READER

Let me preface this with you know better than to listen to some demons who think they are better than the Vee’s but also..you know every back road and fastest route around Pentagram City. It’s like you have a digital map in your head, also it’s very easy to remember when traffic gets heavy.

Stick with me here cause I know nothing about sports cars or anything of the like and I’m not going into specifics cause I’m too stupid for that shit. But- all three have different tastes in cars, especially personal cars.

Vox likes the new high tech sports cars while he can appreciate the looks of old cars. I feel like he likes Lamborghini’s mostly. He has many of his signature colors, but if he wants more privacy (especially if he gets overwhelmed) I’m thinking he has an Audi.

Valentino Most definitely likes the classics but can appreciate the modern versions. He mostly does have classic cars like the cars made by the Morgan Motor company. It has that old classic look that he absolutely eats up all the time. But he does have a few Ferraris’ all of them having some sort of his signature colors to it. He doesn’t let ANYONE except you drive his cars cause he knows while it’s your job- that you do take care of them and if something comes up they are immediately fixed by the best people.

Velvette is a Mercedes-Benz girlie, she has the least amount of cars out of the three. She can appreciate the look of it and loves how the roof can collapse (if that's the word Idk). She can also appreciate BMW's. She's not a hater (yes she is..shhh).

ANYWAYS BACK TO THE PLOT-

You were driving the Vee’s around one day and a demon drove up next to the car, their vehicle tricked out to well..hell and back. Sadly for you, you had your window rolled down so you were able to hear all the curses and name calling before the taunts started. You looked over to the Overlord next to you, wondering what to do cause this person would not shut the fuck up. 

They all have different reactions from this but either way, they find it so fucking hot that you can easily beat someone’s ass in a race without having to gloat about it. Also the way your eyes lock in on what you're doing and how your jaw locks? If you weren’t kicking someone’s ass in the race all three would probably jump your bones.

If you're with Vox he’ll most likely tell you to ignore them which you do easily unless he’s in a mood. Then he lets you race the idiots trying to one up him, he’s not scared. He has more confidence in you winning than he does in himself. 

Valentino…is a different breed. He will allow you to race against someone and he will gloat about it, but the only rule is it can’t be in one of the Morgan cars cause he will actually fucking kill you if you race in that car, those are his relaxation around Pentagram City cars. The Ferrari's? He couldn’t give a shit about, don’t be afraid to mow people down if they get in the way too. He has his hand on your thigh the whole time as well.

Velvette  does care but if she’s annoyed enough by the person she will look at you and give you the go ahead, she will livestream the whole time too. Just don’t hit anyone or anything cause she will throw a huge fucking fit, that’s her car.

Once you win the race? Oh boy, get out a gloat for a bit cause the others surely will. Even if you didn’t demand money, they will. Most likely Valentino will kill them or destroy their car.

Vox will pull you in and tell you how he didn’t have any doubts about you losing. 

Valentino will more than likely use this as a way to get you to sleep with him or he will try to put moves on you the whole ride back to the tower.

Velvette is gonna be kissing up on your face and leaving lipstick stains all over your face and then going online to tell everyone how you were the best.

A/N: IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Tag List: @aboyscriminalrecord, Come get some food bestie-

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #the vees x y/n #poly vees #hazbin hotel vees #the vees #valentino x you #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #velvette x you #vox x you #vox the tv demon #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

[youjustwaitsunshine]

so this has been interesting me for a bit and I've seen that 'speed limits around the world' graphic again some time ago so

+ what country do you live in?

#for me it's germany and 220+ in my dads car #(my moms and my car is a little ford fiesta that doesn't go past 180 and that i rarely push past 140 for longer distances) #but my dads car is a bigger boi that doesn't become unstable at 200

[moonchildstyles]

lovage

rosemary part four: the past finally caught up with harry and now y/n might have to pay for it.

wordcount: 16k+

—————

It was quiet.

There was no sound above the engine humming and the tires spinning way too fast over the asphalt.

No music.

No talking.

The only noticeable sound was Harry's heart beating in his ears. He just hoped only he could hear that.

(Y/N) hadn't said a word since they pulled away from her home. Harry hadn't pushed her, instead focusing on getting them away from that town as fast as possible, before anyone could have a chance to notice anything out of the ordinary. The fastest route out of there landed them on the highway within thirty minutes, the black pavement stretched out for miles.

Now forty-five minutes out on the highway and the time barely ticking after three a.m., they were one of the few out on the road. Everything was almost eerily quiet after the kind of panic that had been ignited in him just an hour prior. This was why Harry liked making a getaway before the rest of the world woke. He could make note of every car he saw, every marker on the side of the road, and every deserted rest stop when the rest of the world was quiet.

Coasting past every sign and darkened gas station, the next nearest city was another one hundred and thirty-four miles away—at least according to a sun-bleached sign, anyway. Harry made a point to focus his efforts in creating a rhythm so he wouldn't miss a single detail around him. He checked the road ahead of him first, noting the signs and anything that could be an opportunity to slip them further away to somewhere no one would look for them. He then scanned over every exit and shoulder, trying to spot any car lingering in the dark, anyone waiting in the wings to possibly sweep behind them and give chase. Every car he came across was examined as quickly as he could manage without drifting through lanes, Harry noting the driver and anything that may have looked familiar to him in a previous life. His mirrors were his lifeline to ensure he didn't miss anything that popped up behind him. The pattern would then repeat, every detail fixing itself into his brain.

It was a strategic system, one of the few defenses he could manage outside of just going fast and getting away as quickly as he could. It also ensured he wouldn't look at (Y/N).

While he wanted to believe that she was asleep since she hadn't said a word or tried to pry any kind of explanation out of him, Harry knew better. Once in a while, he saw her hands stir in her lap, reaching up to her face or a short sniffle would shudder her chest. She was choosing not to speak to him, not to touch him, not to look at him.

Numbness still coated everything he felt. Even the raw edge of those softer emotions had been dulled. He would mourn that comfort he used to have with (Y/N) once she was somewhere safe.

Once the meter for the gas in his tank drifted too low for comfort, Harry strayed from the highway for the first time since embarking out. He had waited, patrolling the exits, until he saw one that looked well lit and close to the highway to make a quick exit as soon as he was done. While he was ninety-eight percent sure they weren't being followed, he knew that wouldn’t be the case for too much longer. Soon enough someone was going to notice he was gone and had another with him.

Even with his certainty, Harry still took the exit and lingered around the station until he could be sure that no one was following them. When he didn't see any headlights coming after them, a stranger pull out of the shadows, or any other suspicious omen, he finally made his way to the pump.

His movements were calculated to cut every second of time he possibly could, everything efficient to ensure safety was that much closer. He made quick work of grabbing the money he had stashed in the center console, his attention placed on the numbered flag hanging on the meter.

"'M going to go pay inside," he told (Y/N), his voice feeling loud in the silent cab, "Do y'want anything?"

(Y/N) only shook her head.

Harry lingered for a moment, the wasted time going against his instincts though he didn’t budge. "Do y'want to come in with me?"

He watched as she swallowed, one of her hands reaching up to her face and wiping across her cheek. "I'm okay," was her response, the words watery and thin. She sniffled.

His lips thinned when he realized why she was so hesitant to even glance his way. He hadn't known she was so upset. He knew she'd been scared, but there was no indication that she had been crumbling away in the seat beside him.

She said she trusted him.

With limited light reaching through the windows, he wasn't allowed much of a view of her, her face cast in shadows and the details fuzzied by the dark. He didn't make any move to get out of the car. "(Y/N)..."

"Hm?" She barely managed to make her voice above a whisper.

"Look at me."

(Y/N) shook her head at his strict command, her hair covering her face even further. Her hands lingered around her face, wiping tears he was sure she was trying to keep away from his eyes.

"Please, look at me," he tried again, his voice decidedly softer the longer he tried to picture what she looked like with tears streaking her skin, "I jus' want to make sure you're okay."

Something bubbled over inside (Y/N) when she heard his words causing her to whip her face up to look at him, her red-rimmed eyes angry. Her lips though swollen from her silent crying were thinned into a stern line as she matched his gaze. The light shimmer of tears sparkled on her skin.

"I'm not okay, Harry!" she said, no longer trying to wipe away the evidence of her tears, the droplets slicking her skin in unstoppable rivers, "I have no idea what's going on, or where you're taking me, or why I wasn't safe at home anymore! You woke me up at three in the morning, telling me that I have to trust you and that we needed to leave, but you won't tell me why and I'm scared, Harry! I'm not okay! I'm scared, and all you want is for me to trust you but I have no idea what's going on and you won't tell me anything!"

Her hands had formed fists in her lap, her skin heating with a stunted breath shuddering her lungs when she managed to tame some of her rage. Tears poured down her cheeks, cry-swollen lips beginning to quiver as she tried to say something else, only for her voice to break. She all but deflated now that everything was out of her system, only a whimper managing to escape her throat.

Harry couldn't pull his gaze from her. The box he had tucked away in the back of his mind unraveled just enough as he looked at her. He forgot what it was like to be scared like this; it'd been years since he first ran, he barely remembered what it was like to be ripped from everything you knew and have no idea what the future held—even what the next hours would look like. He couldn't look at her crying eyes and not do anything to help.

That unraveling allowed him to stretch over the center console and meet (Y/N) halfway. Her balled hands were taken in his, her fingers laying limp across his own as Harry cuddled them in a stern hold. He waited for her to reluctantly match his gaze before speaking.

"'M sorry, (Y/N)," he said, his voice a low croon as if there were anyone else around to hear. He pulsed his hands around hers, pressing the apology into her skin and in hopes of making her believe it. "If there were any other way to take care of all of this, I would have done it. But, we don't have enough time. I need to get y'somewhere safe before I can tell y'anything. I didn't want to scare you." That initial unraveling allowed for a crack to budge through his foundation. He held himself together with a thick swallow and his grip on (Y/N)'s hands—his reality. "I-I couldn't leave y'back there, but I promise I will get y'home when 's safe again. As soon as I know you'll be okay, I'll make sure y'make it home."

(Y/N)'s breathing evened out from the angered pants she'd gone through during her own speech. A level of clarity reached her glossy eyes. She squeezed her hands in Harry's, her statue limbs coming alive to reciprocate his hold.

"Y'still trust me?" he asked her cautiously, dipping his head and looking at her through the fan of his lashes.

No hesitation before she was nodding her head. Her eyes shimmered in the dingy light. "I'm scared."

"I am, too." His voice was barely a whisper. A true secret just for her to hear—one he'd never let out before.

She nodded her head as if accepting everything she was learning, and everything she wasn't. "But, we're going to be okay, right?"

Hearing the word we come out of her mouth felt like a punch in his chest, something breaking and shattering against bony knuckles. Even knowing he was the reason she was no longer safe, she still wanted him to be safe with her.

Harry's throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. "'M gonna make sure you're alright and safe by the end of this, okay? I promise."

If there was anything he was going to accomplish in all of this, it was ensuring that she was safe and could go back to the life she had before she had the misfortune of knowing him. Even if it meant Harry had to go back to his old life or end up somewhere he would never be found again, that's what he would sacrifice. Nothing mattered except making sure she was going to be well and happy after he left her alone.

Something flashed in (Y/N)'s eyes as she listened to him, a pinch appearing between her brows. Before she could say much, he squeezed her hands once more. "'M going to go inside, yeah? Do y'want to come with me or stay here?"

Her features relaxed, gaze darting around the empty station. "You'll be fast?"

"I'll be back before y'know it."

His stupid quip was just the thing to get a short smile touching at her features. The first one he'd seen since he last bothered her days before.

"I can hold down the fort here, then," she told him, offering him a view of that gentle smile as she tipped her chin up just enough to feign confidence.

With her chin tilted just right and the low light filling the area, Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He wanted to show her he could still be that man she invited into her home, the one that earned her trust in the first place, the one that could hold her gently and show her that she wasn't alone. But, the first thing that popped into his brain before he could even inch forward was the photo stashed away in his bag. The moment didn't seem so romantic now.

Backing off, Harry pulsed his hands around hers for just a moment longer.

"I'll be right back," he muttered to her, pushing his door open. "Lock the doors while 'm gone."

Even when he heard the click of the locks and felt the static of her gaze on him, Harry didn't look back as he walked away from her.

—————

Sighing, Harry pulled into the parking lot of the powder blue motel.

The only drawing factors to the rundown building were the lights being on in the check-in station and the vacancy neon lit up on the roadside sign. If not for the fact he'd seen (Y/N) nodding off an hour back on the highway, he would have kept driving. It'd been hours since she bawled at the gas station, and Harry wanted to give her somewhere comfortable to sleep for the night—even if this place didn't look particularly safe or clean.

Nonetheless, this wasn't the first time he'd stopped at a place like this, and they were good cover; less traffic went through, allowing Harry to make note of every person he saw, the rooms were cheap with attendants that didn't ask questions, and they were further out of the way and harder to find. Besides, it couldn't be too bad. Just in case, back at the gas station he had purchased a couple of fleecy, cheap blankets and travel pillows. Even if the place wasn't perfect, she'd have something to keep her comfortable for the time being.

Putting the car in park, he saw (Y/N) perk up from the corner of his eye. Her features were lit up in the glow of the neon, her skin painted a pearly blue with streaks of orange and red splashed across. She was exhausted; puffy eyes, swollen lips, and cheeks that just barely glistened in the light with perfect tracks of tears.

"We're stopping?" she peeped, her voice low to match the still silence in the car.

"For tonight," he decided, hands falling from the steering wheel. "We'll sleep, eat when we wake up, then we'll keep going." Even as he spoke of sleep, Harry doubted they had much more than an hour before the sun would begin to rise after the time spent on the road.

(Y/N) nodded quietly, moving to unbuckle herself as Harry did the same. He stopped when he heard the click of her seatbelt unlatching.

"Y'stay here, yeah?" he asked. "I'll come get y'when I have a room and everything."

She didn't fight him, instead just settling in her seat once more. "Okay."

Harry's jaw ticked at her dejection. Under that steeled demeanor he had curated for this, seeing her so defeated poked at the soft bits that didn't have time to hide behind his walls. More than anything, he wanted her to stay back so there would be less witnesses to pair them together if anyone came asking for him. It was safer this way, he wanted to tell her, all of this was to keep her safe more than anything.

Instead, he stepped out of the car silently, locking the doors behind him.

With a facade in place, Harry revived a version of himself he thought he left behind long ago. This Harry had an air of unwavering confidence. No one would dare question him. He was unfeeling, completely stoic and unshakable. This Harry had no qualms about the things he had to do.

That was who stepped inside the lobby of the motel, a bell jingling above his head. The attendant that had been lounging behind the desk, phone in hand, startled awake. He hadn't been expecting anyone, that much was obvious.

"Hi, how can I help you?" he rushed out, his voice in monotone after a near-silent shift.

"I need a room."

The attendant unabashedly yawned, mouth wide as he nodded. Looking to the computer screen in front of him, he clicked with taps of his fingers on the mouse. "How many nights?"

"Just for today."

He stopped his tapping at the computer, the screen stalling as a dark brow was arched over a suspicious gaze. Harry didn't flinch as the kid's eyes assessed him. "Just you?" he asked, skeptical.

"For two, please."

The attendant's gaze moved on, Harry's matching eye contact being more than enough to push his attention away. He appeared bored once more as he looked at the computer in front of him. "Our only two bed room is out of order at the moment. Sorry."

Despite the fact Harry couldn't conceive of a way a room could be out of order, especially in a place he doubted had particularly high standards, he thinned his lips and nodded his head. "Whatever y'have available then, please."

"I have a single queen open."

"That's fine," Harry blinked, already bored with the fact that this was taking longer than he liked. "Thank you."

"Cool," the attendant offered, sounding just as disinterested as Harry felt. "It'll be thirty-five for the rest of the night. Check out is at three or earlier, but if you want another night just come back up here. Second night's cheaper."

After the price was passed along, the rest of the explanation fell on deaf ears as Harry pulled some cash from his wallet. This pricing was just one of the reasons he preferred these kinds of places. He didn't want to blow all of his run-money on having somewhere to sleep for a few hours.

Harry worked quickly, passing along the cash in exchange for a sheet of paperwork he needed to sign. The page called for names and contact information, a whole top section saving the motel from any kind of liability if anything were to go wrong in one of their rooms. Particularly in the bathrooms.

It wasn't a comforting passage to read through, but Harry didn't care at this point. The longer he let (Y/N) sit alone in the car, the more anxiety built in his system. While he had a good idea that they weren't being followed, he could never be completely certain.

"So, you on vacation or something?" the attendant chatted, leaning on the front desk while Harry printed out fake names and numbers for both him and (Y/N).

"Kind of."

A hum left the attendant's throat. "That your girl out there then?"

The pen in Harry's hand skipped over a digit of the fake number. This kid was half asleep when he walked in and now there were all these questions to be asked?

Through a ticked jaw, Harry grumbled, "Something like that." He spared a single second longer to forge a nonsense signature before he was pushing the page and the pen back to the opposite side of the desk. "Which room?"

Recoiling, the attendant barely glanced at the information page before he was reaching around for the key. "Um, room six," he mumbled, passing along a key with a red, plastic tag with a large six stamped across, "Just leave the key on the table and the door unlocked when you leave."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry huffed, his muscles strung tight. How much time had he wasted in here?

"Have a nice night, man," the attendant offered.

Harry kept walking.

He rounded the car, heading towards the back seat where he had all of their bags and (Y/N)'s creature comforts. He could feel her eyes on him as he moved. It didn't surprise him when he heard her push her door open, feet stepping over the gravel of the unpaved parking lot.

"We're good?" (Y/N) asked, voice harmonizing with the sounds of the night around them.

Nodding, Harry passed her the key as he hiked the straps of their bags over his shoulders. "We're in six," he told her, jerking his chin down the length of the motel.

(Y/N) hesitated in her spot, eyeing all of the baggage he was shouldering. She looked just as tired as when the night started.

"C'mon," Harry prompted her, taking steps down for her to follow. She almost tripped to catch up with him.

Counting down the room numbers, they found number six towards the end of the strip, right beside the room with the Out Of Order sign. Harry's lips thinned at the sight.

Overall, the room wasn't too bad when they managed to make it inside. The lock stuck for more than a minute, the jamb unyielding as it held onto the door. (Harry didn't mind that quirk, really. He saw it as a built-in protection should anyone try to push their way into the room). Inside, the same color palette of powder blues and dull grey filled out the furnishings. An oddly colored landscape print was hung above the bed, complete with a ruffled blue ocean that matched the bedding below it. A tiny bathroom was shown off through the open door, seashells decorating the shower curtain.

Harry's attention almost immediately fell on the heavy curtains on the window, the split between the two panels a little too large for his liking. The second he had the bags settled, that was the first thing he fixed. He couldn't tell if they were dyed grey or dulled down from a collection of dust.

While he had his complaints of the space, it wasn't like Harry had much room to stand, he knew that. His apartment wasn't much better. The bed even, despite the comforter looking as if it needed a good wash, had a better bed frame than what he had been sleeping in for the last almost six months. He just hoped (Y/N) would be able to relax here, even if just for a few hours to decompress.

From the corner of his eye, (Y/N) wandered about the room. She seemed almost in a daze as she cast her gaze around, even peeking into the bathroom though she didn't appear to take much in. He couldn't blame her for being disconnected; if he could do the same, he would be almost catatonic.

Pulling the blanket from the flimsy packaging and one of the travel pillows, Harry laid them out on the blue bed. "Y'can sleep on these tonight if you're not comfortable with the bed."

(Y/N) snapped out of her daze at the sound of his voice, almost stumbling in her spot. She focused on him, eyes glazing down to the puff of a blanket he had folded on the foot of the bed. "Hm?"

"Jus' got y'some things so y'could sleep a little better tonight," Harry explained, urging himself not to tear at his cuticles, "You tired?"

She lagged in her spot for a moment. "I think I want to shower first, actually. Is that okay?"

He pulled back the sigh that wanted to escape his throat. He didn't like that she suddenly started asking him for permission.

"More than okay," he settled, "I'll be out here if y'need anything, yeah?"

Shooting him a small smile, (Y/N) went about collecting all of her things. It was slow the way she moved, glancing at him more than once as if he would strike if left unmonitored. The only movement he made was dropping himself into one of the understuffed armchairs positioned in front of the window.

Once the bathroom door was locked behind her, Harry felt a tightness in his chest. He knew it was most likely an instinct, but it poked at him, thinking that she was now scared of him. How was he supposed to keep her safe when she thought of him as a threat?

The thought made Harry restless, the sound of the running shower meshing with the buzz of his brain. He couldn't sit for longer than a handful of minutes before he was up and fussing about the room. Sparing both of the blankets he purchased, he made a cot for (Y/N) atop the already made bed, travel pillow dotted at the top. Though he wasn't particularly inclined to use it, he still grabbed the extra quilt that was tucked in the chest of drawers underneath the window. That would be his bedding, he decided, a pair of his sweats folded up under his head would be his pillow. The longer she was in the shower, Harry couldn't distract himself enough until he was changing his clothing into something comfortable enough to sleep in (or lay around for hours in, which is what he knew he'd be doing instead of finding sleep). He knew he wouldn't be able to shower tonight; the thought of being vulnerable and behind another set of doors with (Y/N) to fend for herself made his skin crawl.

By the time (Y/N) stepped out of the bathroom with a plume of steam, she seemed more exhausted than when she stepped in. Nonetheless, she still offered him a quiet smile as she tucked her clothing back into her duffle.

"Hi," she peeped, fingers fumbling with the zip.

"Feel better?" he mused, sitting in what he was considering his armchair for the night, plucking at a loose thread on the arm.

"A little, yeah," she settled on, standing to the full of her height with her clothes tucked away. Her gaze landed on the bed on top of the bed Harry made for her. "This is for me?"

Harry nodded, matching her eyes on the double stack of blankets. "I know these places aren't always the cleanest, so I picked a couple of things y'could use if y'wanted."

(Y/N) fell silent as she cautiously sat herself on the corner of the bed closest to him. A knit appeared between her brows, as she cast her eyes onto her hands in her lap.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier, Harry," she mumbled, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

He sat forward then, elbows on his knees as he looked at her with his own brows in a furrow. "Hey, I don't want you to apologize for that, okay? No reason to be sorry for any of that."

Her throat squeezed as she swallowed thickly around her words. He was sure she could feel his gaze on the side of her face, but she kept her gaze on her hands. "I just... You said you were scared too, and I shouldn't be screaming at you when we need to be helping each other. I just shouldn't have done that, and start being more helpful an—"

"No, you're not apologizing to me for this, okay?" he cut her off, unwilling to hear whatever narrative she decided on where she somehow had accountability in any of this, "This is my fault; I am the reason we are in this situation. Y'were right, and needed to let all of that out, (Y/N). Don't apologize to me.

"I don't want y'saying sorry for my problems. Y'don't need to be helpful or anything else in all of this. 'M going to fix all of this, I jus' need y'to trust me." Harry swallowed, his throat feeling dry as the weight of his own words caught up to him. "I know that's a lot to ask of you, but that's all I need from you. That's all I need to be able to get y'home soon."

A sniffle had her nose wrinkling, a small nod causing her wet hair to sway. She looked at him for the first time since sitting down, eyes glossy and wet. "I trust you, Harry," she murmured, voice watery.

In a split second, Harry saw the way she reached out for him. It was a twitch of her fingers, that purse of her lips, the tensing of her legs, that told him she was going to reach for him, wrap herself into a hug he gave to her freely before this. While he wasn't proud of it, he dropped his gaze from hers, moving his hand out of reach for her as he brushed his knuckle against the tip of her nose. He leaned just that much away from her, a movement he could pass on as absent. As if he wasn't trying to dodge her touch.

Feeling the warmth of her skin and allowing himself to grow reckless enough to reciprocate was one of the many reasons she was now roped into this mess. He couldn't make the same mistake now, not when her safety was the only thing he had on his mind.

He didn't deserve her touch after all that he'd put her through in the last few hours.

Something dimmed in (Y/N)'s eyes when he dared a look up at her. She sat still in her spot.

Clearing his throat, Harry passed his gaze to the palette behind her. "We need to sleep while we can," he started, absently picking at his raw cuticles, "We can eat when we wake up, then I think we should head out again."

"Okay," she said after a beat, voice distant. Spotting the makeshift bed on the floor, she flicked her gaze to Harry. "Is that where you're sleeping?"

"I want y'to take the bed."

For a flash, Harry could see that stubborn smoke he saw back in the bakery when she was so insistent about him indulging in her treats for free. It was the way it drained almost immediately that poked at the soft part of his heart.

"Thank you," she told him instead. Grabbing the edge of her makeshift bed, she slipped underneath the fleece. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

The words echoed in the silence of their room. Harry stiffly followed her suit, finding his own bed on the ground.

Harry didn't find sleep until he saw shards of light pitching through the curtains, the rising sun having beat him.

—————

Despite having fallen asleep last, Harry woke up first only a few hours later after a dreamless sleep. (Y/N) was still sound asleep, curled up in the cot he made on the top of the real. While she didn't look particularly peaceful, he knew she needed to sleep. The visible exhaustion he had seen on her remained in his brain. He wanted her to have as much time as she could to relax before he'd be putting her through another day of running.

Harry let her sleep as he showered. The rinse under the water he did barely could be considered a shower, but he didn't want to spend more time than necessary with (Y/N) unattended. By the time he made it out and changed into the set of clothing he'd used as his pillow during the night, she had barely moved in her spot, only the crease between her brows deepening just that much more. Harry wanted to smooth out the furrow, but kept his hands to himself.

He didn't disturb her as he went about trying to plan what the rest of the morning would look like before he'd set them on the road again. Unwilling to go very far from her, Harry only wandered as far as the front desk station, now manned by someone other than the attendant from the night before, though they seemed just as insistent on learning what Harry was up to. Asking about breakfast options close by, he was directed to a diner down the road, closer to the center of the small town they'd landed in.

In the interest of allowing (Y/N) to sleep in and make everything as easy as possible on her, he wanted to head out on his own and pick up meals from the diner and bring them back to their room. Maybe, it would make her smile to be greeted with warm food after what he was sure was a traumatic night.

But, the thought of being so far away from her for less than an hour, had something in his veins beginning to buzz. Anything could happen in that time while he was missing, and he would have left her completely defenseless. He'd never forgive himself if her life came down to takeaway boxes. If he could barely handle showering and walking as far as to the front desk without constantly feeling the need to check on her, traveling fifteen minutes away was going to be out of the question.

Instead, Harry took himself back to their shared room and took up residence in the same floral armchair that he took over the night before. This way, he'd be right there if she needed him.

The silence was something he hadn't accounted for, though.

While the last twelve hours had been on the quiet end, this was different. Before, (Y/N) was there, in her own world, but there to sit beside him and give him something to focus on—something real. Now, with her sound asleep, he was virtually alone. The freedom was more of a curse to his brain than a decompressing moment he had hoped for.

He didn't know where they were going, where he could take her, where they even were outside of a few roadsides. He didn't even know when they could stop running—if they could stop running.

Though this sloppy getaway was the only option at the time, the loose ends he hadn't thought about were getting more and more tangled the longer he left them without a plan. In all of the previous times he'd escaped his past, there were never this many variables to work out; (Y/N) wasn't a ghost like him. He didn't know when she would be safe, how closely they were being followed, and yet he had promised he'd be able to take her home soon.

He worried he wouldn't be able to follow through on that promise.

But, this was giving him time. The running and dodging was earning him time to figure something out. Anything.

Flicking his glazed gaze down to her curled form, the only thing Harry knew was that he wanted to keep her safe. He'd do anything.

—————

An hour of more rest passed before Harry forced himself to wake (Y/N).

Despite the fact he knew they were on a thin time limit, guilt still wracked his system when she had blinked her eyes up at him, something a little wild and scared appearing in her gaze for a split second. He knew she remembered everything that had happened after a moment when she settled into the mattress and only looked dejectedly at him.

He didn't know what to say to her. Instead, he only told her they needed to go eat before he'd start driving them out of town again.

(Y/N) had followed his directions quietly, only nodding and humming. He hoped it was only because she was still tired. Maybe she could sleep in the car today.

After getting dressed and ready to head out with their bags packed and room key sitting on the side table, Harry guided them back to the car. He felt a little better once the doors had sealed behind them, motor running with the key in the ignition. This was his only defense at the moment—the only thing he was in control of. It comforted him.

"There's this diner down the road we can eat at, then we've got to get going again." Harry's voice was a rumble that matched the engine as he backed out of the space he'd taken at the motel.

He hadn't been expecting to hear anything from (Y/N).

"Do you know where we're going, yet?" she asked, her voice small.

Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing. He was grateful for the fact he had to focus on backing them out so he wouldn't have to look at her when he spoke.

"No."

(Y/N) only nodded.

—————

Breakfast at the diner was quiet. Even with the food set out in front of her—an omelette with cheese and spinach, though the hash browns weren't as crispy as he knew she liked—she was more interested in the hollow town outside the window. She picked at the edges of her eggs, taking a bite here and there before instead tearing it apart and pushing the pieces around. She didn't bother with the hashbrowns. As soon as she realized Harry had finished his own plate, she was telling him she was ready to go when he was. He didn't argue with her.

Now with the town behind them, Harry forced himself to focus on blending in with the crowds of cars on the busy highway. Now with the sun up, he wasn't able to weave and swerve the way he did the night before without attracting attention. Driving so controlled and slow made him more anxious than the high speeds and knee-jerk lane switches.

Once he merged into a group of other travelers, his speed regulated and route nothing more than a straight shot forward, he allowed a brief glance outside of the constant cycle of checking every mirror. From the corner of his eye, (Y/N) was tucked into her seat, her eyes fluttering closed in long blinks before she was forcing them open and her attention forward. She looked moments away from curling up and falling asleep once more.

"Y'can sleep, you know."

(Y/N) startled in her spot, a short gasp blowing through her nose as her posture straightened to something uncomfortable. "What?"

"Y'can sleep if you're still tired. I'll wake y'up when we stop," he explained, his voice low as he tried to keep his eyes from drifting and sticking to her.

"Oh," she sounded, looking at him with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth even with the relief in her eyes. "Thank you."

With that, (Y/N) shucked off her shoes, brought her legs up underneath herself and curled up as best she could in the confined space of the cab. Her hand cushioned her head against the doorframe. She didn't look particularly comfortable, but with the way she drifted off almost immediately, he figured it couldn't be that bad.

—————

Despite what he had told her, Harry didn't wake her when he stopped for petrol later in the drive. If she was able to sleep through the jostling of the drive and the noise of the dirt road he had to take to get to the station in the first place, she was too tired for him to not feel guilty over waking her.

Merging back onto the highway, another dense group of travelers becoming his home for the next stretch, Harry tried his best to relax. Though he knew she was right there, he was spending too much time with his thoughts, unable to ignore the swirling pit forming in his stomach.

This was the kind of stress he hadn't felt in years, not since the first time he ran like this, and he had hoped he never would again. But, if this was the cost of keeping (Y/N) safe, he'd go through his over and over and over again.

Trying to stay a step ahead, he stitched any kind of plan together he could think of in the moment. Major cities were being advertised on the guiding green signs off the side of the road, miles marked between each. There had to be a small village he could stop them off in somewhere between, somewhere quiet enough to keep them hidden. This time, he hoped he could let her sleep and be comfortable for longer than one night, though he doubted his anxiety would allow them to stay in one spot for very long.

The longer Harry sat, stewing in all of the possibilities and variables that followed after them, he felt his hands grow restless wrapped around the steering wheel. His cuticles were already picked raw from the night before when he laid staring at the ceiling. Flicking his gaze to the glove compartment, an inch started in his palm. A glance in (Y/N)'s direction showed that she was just as deeply asleep as she had been for the last hour.

It took barely a moment of hesitation, a deep breath through his nose, before he lessened his foot on the gas just enough. He reached across the center console, making a point to keep his touch from hovering around (Y/N). His fingers caught on the latch to the glove compartment, pulling the door open.

A small strip of light clinging to the top lit up the contents: loose napkins, an old gas station receipt, one of his guns, a lighter, and a pack of cigarettes.

The carton and lighter were the two things he grabbed before splaying the napkins atop the firearm. Smoking was a habit he kicked a long time ago—it was too expensive and a fix too temporary for problems he knew ran deeper than just ten minutes of smoke in his lungs.

But, he could only be so strong. Back in the thick of it all, smoking used to be one of the only things that would relax him, take him off the teetering edge of his anxiety. It wouldn't be so bad to have just one right now; maybe it would help his brain settle and allow him a moment of clarity in all of this.

(Y/N) won't even know, he'd make sure of it. He'd smoke a single one, and then put it out before she woke up.

Cracking the window just enough, he kept his eyes on the road as he rested the single cigarette between his lips. The carton was quickly replaced into the glove compartment before he carefully ignited his lighter and lit the end of his cigarette. Once the cherry lit a warm red, the lighter joined the pack to be tucked away.

His first breath in exhaled like a sigh, the smoke trailing out the open window. Just the single drag allowed a level of calmness he hadn't felt since he was leaving his shift at the grocery store. As much as he complained about the mundanity of his job and his pestering coworkers, there wasn't much he wouldn't give to go back to just a few days ago.

But, this was the most he felt like himself since the last time he had caved and picked up this carton. In an odd way, each puff reminded him of what he was set out to be doing, and what kind of man he needed to be to get through this. He'd lost some of that self control over the time since he'd met (Y/N), but now was the time for him to find them. This time, these walls weren't going to be for his sake, but for her. She needed him to be that kind of man again, because he would be the one that would get her home safe, and ensure none of his problems followed after.

Harry pressed harder on the gas, the speedometer ticking ten above the limit.

The faster this is all over—the faster (Y/N) was safe—he'd pick a new place to settle for some time and move on from all of this. He'd make sure no one had to deal with him like this ever again.

Just barely, Harry heard a rustling from the passenger seat. A sleep-dredged voice said: "I didn't know you smoked."

Taking his last drag, the smoke billowing out the cracked window, Harry flicked the end of his cigarette out the window. "I don't," he told her.

He rolled up the window, sealing everything inside.

—————

"When do we leave tomorrow?"

This new motel's yellow walls looked too bright to be the background to (Y/N)'s sleep-sullen form. Her hair was still damp from her shower, baby hairs clinging to the edges of her face. She sat on the motel's cream bedding, her usual cot of a fleece blanket and travel pillow cushioning her contact with the questionable cleanliness of the space. This room's version of the floral armchair was a plain brown recliner settled beside the window.

"'M thinking sometime in the morning, a little early," Harry told her, his knuckle brushing the tip of his nose, "We stopped early tonight, so I want to make sure we have time to move on."

"Okay," she answered simply, her voice a monotone blip.

Harry swallowed back the sigh that wanted to drift from his throat.

This was the fourth time they've had this conversation. Four days on the road, with this yellow spot being the fourth motel he'd checked them into. The evidence of the rough road was clear in the dark circles under her eyes, and the way she barely had any energy to shower at the end of the night. Harry had to have been driving for a collective forty-eight hours at this point, blending in with others on the road while keeping a close eye on... everything. These days he only slept as much as he did because of the exhaustion pushing his brain to shutter for a few hours.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," (Y/N) said, running a heavy hand through her hair as she shuffled into her cot, "Goodnight, Harry."

Watching her, he knew he wasn't going to wake her until she was ready. She needed every bit of reprieve she could get. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

Just like she had been lately, (Y/N) fell asleep quickly, her head hitting the pillow moments before her eyes shut. As exhausted as he was, Harry knew he had a few more hours before he would be able to join her, his body still buzzing from the day of escape. Just like every other day.

Keeping his station in the armchair, Harry wished he could distract himself. His cigarettes were in the car (he didn't really want to smoke anymore, anyway. One was enough for a while), his cuticles were already picked raw, and his book was stuffed at the bottom of his bag in the car. He was then left in the dark of the motel, a single lamplight on, and (Y/N)'s even breaths the soundtrack.

She didn't ask where they were going anymore, not after the handful of times he told her he didn't know over and over. She just lets him take her wherever, no questions asked. He couldn't tell if it was because of the trust or if she was defeated after it all.

It broke his heart.

It was still (Y/N) he was traveling with, her bright eyes taking in the sights as they ran through, but she didn't chirp and quip with him like she used to. She pushed around her food until hunger took over and she took whatever snacks Harry picked up at the gas station. He knew she missed everything she had left behind when she agreed to trust him and leave with him, but she didn't speak of it.

He knew it was his fault, that he was the one that was supposed to deal with all of this instead of stringing her along until he forced himself to do so. But, he was being honest when he told her he didn't know.

He didn't know what he was doing, or how to fix everything. If it was just him who was running, there wouldn't be so much worry. Harry knew how to take care of himself, but adding (Y/N) into the mix shifted his priorities in a way that sent his head spinning.

It scared him.

This kind of life used to be so familiar, an old home he grew into, this wasn't the same neighborhood. It had the same architecture, the same doorway, the same floors, but it wasn't the same place. This kind of danger he wasn't accustomed to. This wasn't the kind of running he was going to be able to move effortlessly through like he had before.

It was all going to have to stop soon. Harry couldn't keep finding greasy diners and powdery motels, gas stations to keep them on the run. It wasn't an option to keep (Y/N) away much longer, not with the way he could see her reverting into her shell more and more everyday. She had a life she deserved to return to.

That was all Harry was able to think about as he sat watch for the night, his eyes only shutting when his body finally forced him to sleep dreamlessly.

—————

This motel was a sunbleached pink, patchy and bright. With the setting sun, the off-white trim was tinted a peachy orange, covering the dark stains and unwashed dirt he was sure were left behind on the surface. (Y/N) led the way this time, her duffle bag over her shoulder and the keys in her hand, while Harry was behind with to-go orders of their dinner in his hands. She adjusted the strap on her bag, her eyes scanning around while they scaled the length of the motel towards their room at the end.

"After a while, they all kind of look the same, don't they?" she mused, tossing a look at him over her shoulder, "They're always some kind of pastel, have an out of order pool, and the same three art pieces."

For the first time since embarking out on the run, Harry felt that itch in his cheeks to spread a smile across his lips. This was the cheeriest he'd heard her be in days—the most herself she'd been since he pulled her into the car with him. There was a pressure in his lungs that eased just the smallest amount at the sound of the chirp in her voice.

"They all have the same smell, too," he told her, his eyes softening as he watched her rattle the sticky lock to their room, "Like bleach, but bleach that was here two weeks ago."

A peal of laughter left her lips at his comment, the first airy sound he'd heard from her in a while.

He followed after her as they made it into their room, Harry twisting the lock while she deposited her things onto the bed. She was running out of clean clothes, he knew that, but she didn't say anything as she rifled through the limited amount she did have.

"After I shower, do you want to sit down and eat?" she asked, looking up at him with her hands buried in her clothes.

"Sounds good," he told her as he settled in himself, dropping their boxed dinners on the side table with his own bag slipping down his shoulder.

With that, (Y/N) gathered the few pieces of clothing she had left before moving onto the cramped bathroom. In the silence of the room, the closed door sealing them apart, Harry took a deep breath as he sunk into this motel's version of his floral armchair (this one was a loveseat stationed under the single window).

This was their routine. Harry drove for hours on end, taking them in whatever direction he figured would move them towards safety despite not knowing where safety was, landing them in a motel where (Y/N) would shower before the night began. Sometimes they would eat, other times go right to bed depending on how she felt. Every day had the same ritual with Harry's eyes constantly looking out for any possible threat with (Y/N) waiting for the next powdery motel he picked for the night.

Harry felt guilty even thinking it, but it was kind of nice not doing this alone. Even with all the strain, the stress, and everything working against them, there was a part of him that was almost eased by the fact he wasn't alone in all of this.

Even now, setting up their dinner so she could sit right down after she showered, Harry could hear a small hum coming from the bathroom and he didn't feel so alone.

—————

(Y/N)'s eyelids felt stiff as she forced them open, her limbs heavy and tangled in her cot. The room was warm, baby hairs sticking to the back of her neck. But, that wasn't what woke her in the middle of the night.

Harry's voice was a mumble in the dark of the motel room, his body bundled up on the tiny couch pressed against the wall. (No matter how many times she insisted that they could switch, even for the night, he always took the floor or bundled himself onto one of the other uncomfortable pieces of furniture in the room. He never complained about his back hurting, even when he saw him rolling his neck and shifting all around in his seat while driving). His words were mushed and a little too quiet for (Y/N)'s sleep-addled brain to comprehend. It wasn't until she heard her name that she sat up.

Spying him on the furniture, he was laid out on his back, scrunched tightly into the space, but he wasn't looking at her either. He was dreaming.

His features were twisted with creases between his furrowed brows, eyes scrunched tight, and mouth open as he spoke to no one. The thin sheet he had pulled from the near-bare closet had been kicked down to his waist as he squirmed in his spot. Hot puffs of air left his mouth in between the mumbled words he pulled from his throat. His hands were bundled into fists, one tightly holding onto the sheet and the other laying heavily on his chest.

After he said her name, he seemed to quiet some even though his body stayed tightly strung. His mouth was moving but barely any noise was leaving his lips.

In a burst of energy, he found his voice again, mumbles making way for clear protests. "No, no, no, no!" he rushed out, louder than she had ever heard him speak even during the day. (Y/N) jumped, not expecting the bubble of silence to burst like that. She hesitated in her spot. Were you supposed to wake up those who were having a nightmare, or leave them to sleep like a sleepwalker?

"(Y/N)!"

The syllables of her name were so clear and concise, she thought he was awake for a moment. The blanket in her hands bore the brunt of her fright as her grip tightened. As quickly as he had burst with noise, he was back to mumbling and mushing his words into nothing.

She knew he didn't sleep too soundly—or much at all, really—, but this was different. Harry was having a nightmare.

(Y/N) didn't hesitate then, untangling herself from her cot. It stabbed at a soft spot in her to see someone like Harry so scared and vulnerable over a dream; she didn't want to think about the things that would make someone as strong as him so upset. Hopefully the article she read was about letting sleepwalkers continue to dream, because she didn't think she could keep sitting there watching him break down like this. Especially when he gasped with a sob breaking through his throat. The smallest of tears touched at the corners of his eyes, glittering in the sliver of light remaining from the cracked bathroom door.

Slipping off of her bed, she sat on the floor beside the couch with her legs folded underneath her bottom. Carefully, she reached out and grazed her hand over his shoulder.

"Harry?" she whispered, compounding the soft touch on his tense shoulder.

He only clutched the sheet tighter, his mumbling picking up as a shiver worked through his body.

Swallowing, she tried again with a firmer hand. She could feel the tight set of his muscles as she pushed against his chest, shaking him. "Harry, wake up," she pleaded with him, "You're having a bad dream, you need to wake up."

His mumbling picked up, words becoming slightly more clear before he jerked his head away to face the back of the couch. He wrung the life out of the sheet in his hand. His breathing shuddered for a moment. She shook his shoulder once more.

"Stop!" he burst out, his breathing shaking just before he bubbled into another round of heavy sobbing breaths.

(Y/N) startled, jumping back and dropping her hand from his shoulder. She had thought he was beginning to come to, not still so deeply rooted in his dream to shout through the room. Her own breathing picked up as she tried to center herself after his outburst. He was still asleep.

Looking at him struggle against his own dream, (Y/N) reminded herself that Harry would never hurt her. He didn't even know that he had yelled at her, let alone scared her. He never would have done that if he was aware, she knew that. She needed to wake him up if this was the kind of effect his dream was having on him.

Reaching out once more, she shook his shoulder again. She firmly pressed against his skin, denting his flesh just enough in hopes of bringing him to the surface with her. "Harry, wake up," she told him, no longer trying to be gentle with her tone, "Harry."

Harry's breathing came in puffs, murmured words working in between that grew quieter and quieter as he twisted his hands into the sheet.

"Harry," she said once more. She shook his shoulder harder.

Just like that, he took in a sharp breath with his eyes popping open. His once tightly bundled fists relinquished the sheet and instead shook as he tried to take in his surroundings. A sheen of sweat glimmered on his forehead. She watched as he looked around as if finding the pieces of a puzzle until he landed on her. It was then that whatever had been missing clicked into place for him.

Her hand had fallen from his shoulder, backing away some from the couch when she saw how abruptly he was moving, but that didn't stop Harry from all but falling from the cushions and towards her. His eyes only seemed to focus when he took her in, the moss of his irises clearing. In moments, she had been pulled from the floor and repositioned in his lap, his arms a looping cage around her middle and head in her neck.

(Y/N) was stunned in her spot. Everything had happened so quickly. She had almost forgotten what it felt like for Harry to touch her, the last time she had felt his skin for longer than a brush being when he had barely held her hands and tried to comfort her that first night on the road. Now, he was touching her everywhere, cataloguing every inch of her as if he couldn't be sure she was there and whole. He held her body close to his, his lap cradling her to him to mimic the hold of his arms. She could feel the tip of his nose and the brush of his lips against the column of her throat, words he was saying being forgotten and melting against her skin.

Once she found her footing, she reciprocated his hold with her own gentle hug. With her on his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand stretching into his hair and brushing through the curls while the other dipped down his back. The blunt scratch of her nails made a soothing pace over his back, the circuit something he could hopefully focus on. She could feel each of his breaths, the fan of the exhale warming her neck.

"Harry?" she crooned to him.

As soon as she uttered his name, a shuddering breath rocked his lungs. Drops of wetness joined the graze of his nose over her skin, tears sliding between them. His hug tightened. Those mushy words she hadn't been able to understand became more prevalent, his voice shaking.

"I didn't mean to, (Y/N), 'm so sorry, please," he cried, swollen lips glancing over her skin.

A pinch knitted her brows together as she listened. She didn't understand why he was apologizing, but this wasn't really the time to start dissecting his dream when he was looking for some kind of reassurance. (Y/N) simply continued brushing her fingers through his hair and grazing her nails over his back.

"I know, Harry," she murmured, "It's okay."

That wasn't enough for him, it seemed as he shook his head from where it was buried against her throat. His tears slicked her skin. "I-I didn't want to, I promise. 'M so sorry, I di-didn't mean to, (Y/N). I didn't want to do it, 'm so sorry, 'm so sorry."

Her fingers curled in his hair. He was still stuck deep in his dream, she had no idea what he was talking about. Her lips thinned as he brought in a shuddering breath, hands shaking against her form.

"I know you didn't, I believe you," she told him, voice a gentle breeze in the quiet of the room, "I forgive you, okay? You're okay."

While he wasn't perfectly settled, that seemed to quell him enough as his pleads for forgiveness drifted into silence. He held her to him, his fingers pulsing against her body every now and then as if a reminder that she was solid and truly in his arms. As the minutes passed on, his breathing settled, working into even paces that fans across her skin with every exhale. He wasn't crying anymore, the much apse could tell. She kept her own touches up, tracing patterns over his back and threading through his curls.

He moved lethargically as he peeled his face away from her neck. She felt him move around her until he had his cheek pressed against her chest, just where her heart was beating against her ribcage. She was sure he could feel the pumps. He melted against her the longer he held her.

(Y/N) sat with him, their breathing matching one another, every slow exhale rewarded with a smooth of her hand over his hair. If not for the fact he hugged her so tightly, she would have figured he had fallen asleep.

"Are you alright?" she murmured, breaking the fragile silence.

In a blink, something shifted in the room. Harry tensed in her arms, the even pacing of his breathing skipping before resuming at opposing intervals.

"I...," he started, untangling himself from around her, "'M sorry, (Y/N)." Guiding her back to the floor, he helped her off his lap though he didn't dare match her eyes. "We should go back to bed. I want to leave early in the morning."

That wasn't the plan he had told her before, but she wasn't what she was going to bother focusing on for the time being. "But, Harry, you just..."

He shook his head, those curls she had pet back and smoothed through her fingertips now wild and flopping over his forehead. "It was nothing, (Y/N). 'M fine. 'M sorry I woke you up, but we have to leave in the morning. Get back to bed."

Hesitating in his spot, Harry chanced a single look in her direction, surely finding her with downturned brows and confused eyes. He didn't allow himself to linger before he was climbing back onto the couch and leaving her there.

Twisting the sheets back up to his chin, he told her once more, "Go back to sleep, (Y/N)."

Turning away from her, (Y/N) was left with a view of his back and the wrinkles in the thin sheet from where he had been wringing it in his sleep. She didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't even know really what had just happened and now she was supposed to pretend like nothing happened and go back to sleep?

Her head was spinning from how quickly the whole night had shifted and flipped and back again. She moved with absent limbs back onto the bed, slipping into the cot Harry put together for her, travel pillows under her head. She knew Harry wasn't sleeping—he barely did anyway, let alone after everything that just happened. If she had known that he would flip, she wouldn't have said anything.

With her back turned towards the occupied couch, (Y/N) didn't fall asleep again until exhaustion pulled her back down. She hoped Harry didn't have another bad dream if he bothered to sleep more at all.

—————

The cab of the car was as silent as the first night Harry had stolen (Y/N) away without explanation.

He didn't want to talk about the night before. He didn't like being so vulnerable in front of the one person he was supposed to be protecting. The whole reason they were in this mess was because he let his guard down, he couldn't do that again. That was why he dismissed her so blatantly when he realized what had happened; the second he heard her voice outside of his dream had woken him up from the comedown.

He didn't deserve to be comforted, not when his nightmare was nothing but a slideshow of his shortcomings.

It made it easier for him to focus, anyway. If he wasn't distracted with her touch and worrying about what it felt like to be in her arms, he could keep his brain clear. Even if his heart did break more and more every second she spent not speaking.

The sun's glare hit the bonnet of the car, the rays directly above them. They'd left at first light this morning, Harry forcing himself to stick to the lie he'd uttered to her when he was urging her to get back into bed. He needed to get her something to eat now that it'd been hours since she shoved a protein bar in her mouth for breakfast.

As usual, while he looked for a suitable exit to pull off, he cast his gaze to those vehicles around him. The longer they drove out, the more remote of a stretch they had landed on, leaving only a handful of other cars spaced out by a few miles. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but he still didn't take any chances.

The best opportunity came in the form of a rest stop twenty miles away from the nearest town. The small area consisted of a few small-town shops, an advertisement for a museum of fossils five miles deeper off the exit, and a gas station with a restaurant attached to the building. Coming upon the split in the road, Harry spotted the bare minimum of other patrons, no others on the main highway taking the exit.

Signaling, he pulled slowly off onto the exit, eyes switching to the rearview mirror to ensure he hadn't missed anything suspicious. Coming to a stop sign with a four-way intersection, he lingered a moment longer than necessary. When no one met up behind them, he went ahead, planning on trailing around for a minute or two before pulling into the gas station anyway.

Especially when he saw a big, black SUV cresting the exit ramp he'd just pulled off of.

Keeping his paranoia in check, Harry took a deep breath in. He hadn't seen that car on the road, and while it looked a little too familiar for comfort—a relic from a past life—that didn't mean anything. Anyone could have a car like that.

Nonetheless, he still took his time, making a point to slowly trace his way across the small rest area. If his paranoia was right, this car would pop up behind them at some point.

It wasn't until he pulled up to the single roundabout in the area that would lead out to the fossil museum that he got that dreaded confirmation. While the SUV wasn't right behind them, checking bumpers, they were definitely shadowing Harry. No turn signals were used, only smooth turns and curves to follow after his route.

His hands tightened on the wheel. He really, really hoped he was just letting the lack of sleep get to him.

Forgoing his turn signal, Harry took a sharp left turn into an alley between a pair of the roadside shops. His eyes were trained on his rearview, watching to see if anyone would follow the reckless move.

Unfortunately, a black SUV did just that.

(Y/N) hadn't been paying attention until then, a sharp gasp falling from her lips when Harry jerked the wheel for the turn. From the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of her hair as she looked around them, trying to find what would prompt his change.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking at him with wide eyes while he kept his attention directed ahead.

He didn't have enough room in his brain to try and explain at the moment. He needed to stay focused.

Reaching across the console, he popped open the glove compartment and snatched the gun from under a stack of napkins. (Y/N) stayed silent.

With the firearm on his lap, Harry's hands were white-knuckled around the steering wheel. His eyes only drifted from the rearview mirror so he could see directly in front of him. They knew now that he was aware they were shadowing him, the gap they'd given previously now all but completely closed. The windows were too tinted to make out clearly who was behind the wheel, but if things hadn't changed too much after he'd ran off, he had a good idea of who had been sent to tail him. And, he knew he was better.

His foot pressing on the gas had him racing through the streets, every turn taken sharply without a signal or a tap on the brakes. (Y/N) clutched the sides of her seat, her seatbelt tight across her body. Her wild eyes darted between Harry and the road in front of them.

All of these jerking turns and accelerating was just to bide his time until Harry could find a getaway onto the highway. The downside of these small stop areas, there wasn't much here to cause a distraction or obstacle for a clean getaway. He had to wait.

Lucky for him and unlucky for the driver he'd come across, someone had finally pulled out from the gas station. Harry watched as they came up to the same four-way he'd started this detour at. For the first time since noticing his shadow, Harry pressed on the brakes. He stopped long enough for the SUV to come close behind them. A second before he knew it would be too late for them to leave, Harry saw the third car start to pull out into the intersection.

Now was his chance.

In a move he learned after too many times of needing to get away as fast as possible from a tail, Harry hit the gas and peeled out on the asphalt. Maneuvering around them, the innocent car screeched to a halt in the middle of the intersection. Harry's hand on the emergency brake had him leaving marks on the blacktop, drifting around them to ensure he didn't give this person any more trouble than he already had. Before the SUV had a chance to follow after Harry, they were stopped in the intersection; they couldn't pass without a head-on collision that would cost them more time and damage than they could afford.

It took another sharp turn and a heady step on the gas pedal and Harry was pushing home back onto the highway.

Harry barely thought before he was weaving in and out between cars, and going too fast. His only thought was how quickly he could make that area disappear behind them. They were too close, that third car nothing more than a quick obstacle, for him to relax. Too soon, they'd find they way out here again and do anything they could to catch up. He wanted to be as far away as he could, hidden away in another village, before that happened.

Every reckless pass and blowing through speed limit signs felt like nothing by the time another hour had passed. No big SUV's had appeared on the horizon, just disgruntled drivers who were minutes away from uniting against him.

Forcing a heavy breath through his lungs and a loosening of his fingers around the wheel, Harry slowed. He needed to pick an exit for them to disappear on next. Hopefully, his shadow would assume he was too spooked to stop again, pushing them to assume forward instead of follow.

This time around, he picked a bigger exit, this one advertising chain restaurants and roadside shops. Others were taking the same route, something that made him a little nervous, but at least he could blend in this way. He knew what he was looking for now, he could make his getaway in moments if need be.

It wasn't until he pressed on the brake, signaling his turn, that (Y/N) seemed to come to life beside him.

"What just happened?"

Looking at her from the corner of his eye, she was just as scared as she'd been when he was whipping her around the rest stop. Her eyes were wide, flicking between his face and the gun on his lap, the safety having been switched off. Her fingers were still tearing into the sides of her seat, keeping her steady among whatever it was that was swimming through her head. She looked terrified.

Harry stayed quiet until he pulled into the shopping plaza a couple of miles past the roadside staples. Patrons were walking around, shopping bags in hands as they cruised the sidewalks, enjoying the sunshine on their skin. Bustling restaurants flooded the area with fragrant ingredients. Maybe, he could take her to one of those when he managed to explain everything.

Unable to relax completely, Harry picked a specific parking space, his eyes trained on the mouth of the plaza. He needed to be ready in case he saw someone that shouldn't be there.

"Harry, is someone following us?" (Y/N) tried again, her voice decidedly smaller than the pair of times she had tried to pull his attention. "Is that why we've been running?"

A lance of guilt poked at that soft crack in his heart. She really had no idea what he had dragged her into.

Pulling in a sigh, Harry dealt with the gun on his lap first. With the safety flicked back on, he reached across her to replace it in the compartment. (Y/N) shied away the closer the firearm was.

"Yes," was his simple answer, a deadpan tone to his voice.

A beat passed. "... Why?"

He didn't let his eyes stray from where he was patrolling. His throat bobbed as he swallowed around the jumbled explanation he tried to make sense of.

While he knew the truth was the only thing she deserved, he also knew she was scared enough already. She needed to keep trusting him. The more scared she became, the shorter that rope of trust became. He needed her to keep her faith in him, if only for a couple days more.

She would have to settle for half-truths for now. He'd tell her everything later, if he had the chance.

"I... I've done some bad things, (Y/N)," he started, his voice quiet. This was the most he'd ever spoken about anything from before. "A lot of things 'm not proud of and wish I could take back. When I was able to stop doing those things and leave, there's been people who have been looking for me since. They're not happy I left, and they're willing to hurt you or I to get me to go back."

Harry didn't need to look at her to know her eyes were stitched to his face. The air felt heavy between them.

A moment passed before he heard her voice again. "Harry?" Her voice shook around his name.

Chancing a look in her direction, Harry found her looking just as shaken as when he barged into her house in the middle of the night less than a week ago. He was taken back to the lowlight of the gas station, her hands wrapped in his as she pleaded with him for any kind of comfort.

He told her again what he had said then: "I promise you're going to be okay, (Y/N). 'M going to make sure of that. You're going to go home after this and everything is going to be fine."

Whatever she saw when she looked at him, or heard when she listened to him, caused a sparkling of tears to push into her eyes. Her waterline glittered, her bottom lip wobbled. She hadn't cried since that first night.

Harry dropped his gaze, his eyes falling to his lap. He wanted nothing more than to do what she had done for him the night before, wrapping her in his arms and shushing her, telling her everything she needed to hear to feel better. But, how was he supposed to do that when he was the reason for her tears? He didn't deserve to be the one to make her happy.

Running a heady hand through his hand and a heavy breath filling his lungs, he glanced at her through his lashes. "'M going to get y'something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."

With that, he forced himself out of the car, walking in the direction of the first restaurant he saw.

By the time he came back with a paper bag and warm food, (Y/N) stopped crying, the only evidence being in the sparkling tracks on her cheeks. She didn't say anything more.

—————

(Y/N) startled in her spot when Harry pushed open the bathroom door after his shower. She'd been jumpy ever since the incident in the car, but no matter how many times he saw her skittish reactions, it didn't make it easier on those parts of him that hadn't steeled through.

"Sorry," he told her, tossing his used towel over the shower rod. His movements felt stiff even with the steam softening his skin. The tense that had strangled his muscles while in the driver's seat still hadn't worn off.

"It's okay," she breathed out, settling once more with her own damp hair being twisted over her shoulder. A nervous habit he'd seen her pick up recently; she worried the ends of her hair the same way he plucked at his cuticles.

He felt her eyes on him as he moved towards his duffle, the bundle of clothes inside being reshuffled as he tried to fit the day's outfit into the limited space. While he brought a little more than (Y/N), he was getting low on spare clothing that was clean enough to wear. They couldn't keep running like this for much longer, even if Harry didn't have much of a plan outside of the open road.

It'd been long enough of a day, he decided, now wasn't the time to be rehashing his strategy. He just needed to get through the night. He'd figure something out tomorrow, maybe.

"We'll leave in the morning after y'wake up, alright?" he told her, zipping his bag closed with his back facing her, "I want you to sleep as much as we can before we head out."

(Y/N) didn't offer more than a hum of acknowledgement, though he didn't expect anything else. She'd been quiet since he gave her his story of limited truth. She was almost as quiet as him at this point. It was unsettling; Harry didn't like the quiet side of her. All he wanted was to sleep now—maybe she'd wake up different. That was all he could ask.

With the day washed off his body and damp curls beginning to dry against his neck, he plucked the spare sheet he'd already taken from the linen closet while (Y/N) had been showering. He made the familiar palette on the floor at the foot of the bed, this motel's armchair not looking particularly comfortable for even the few hours that he'd manage to squeeze in some sleep.

It wasn't until he started folding a hoodie of his up to make a pillow did he hear (Y/N)'s voice again: "Harry?"

"Hm?"

A beat passed, Harry able to visualize her plucking at the ends of her hair like he was sure she was doing behind him.

"Will you... Could you lay up here with me tonight?"

His lips thinned. She made this argument almost every night she wasn't tired enough to let it go. "'M fine on the floor, (Y/N), okay?"

A moment passed with the sound of a shaky breath falling from her lips. "No, I mean... I'm scared. Today was a lot, and I-I don't really want to be alone tonight." She paused once more, her voice thinning. "Since you can't tell me everything yet, please just let me have this."

Turning to face her, his bed abandoned, Harry saw watery eyes looking up at him from where she sat on the bed. Her fingers were twisted in a rogue strand of hair, the strands being worried around her digit, the slightest tremor being shown. The pits and cracks he had poorly filled in the walls around himself began to feel those tremors like earthquakes.

Despite the pit in his stomach that formed every time he remembered those photos of them wrapped around one another in her kitchen—the evidence that was being used to prosecute her on his behalf—he didn't think he could stand there and deny her of anything when she looked at him like that. She didn't deserve to marinate in her fear. She wasn't like him. She couldn't turn things off like he could—pretend he didn't have feelings or worries or anything worth feeling anything over.

It wasn't fair to punish her even more just because he didn't trust himself to keep her safe, even with her wrapped in his arms.

If this was what she needed to feel safe, he was going to try.

The nod he gave her was silent. Her own quiet smile that bloomed over her lips was more than enough to strengthen his faith in his choice.

Her eyes were stitched to him as he crawled upon her bed. His movements were slow, cautious with his fists sinking into the lumpy mattress, thin duvet cover wrinkling under his touch. (Y/N) offered him a space beside her as she lifted the edge of her personal blanket up for him, an invitation into the cot he made for her every night. Her warmth could be felt against him as he found his space beside her—but not too close. He could smell the scent of her lotion when the fleecy blanket fluttered atop him.

While it wasn't his first choice, his only option was the beaten pillow at the head of the bed to rest on. Before anymore more than a few strands of hair could brush the questionable fabric, (Y/N) stopped him.

"Wait, we can share," she told him, pushing her own pillows in his direction.

Harry hesitated, blinking as he looked at her. How close could he tolerate before those walls were erected once more to keep her out?

"Please?" was her gentle plea.

She had to know what she was doing, he thought. She had to know that he wasn't able to say no to her when she did that—when she spoke to him so softly, looking at him with those eyes he hadn't been able to stop thinking about since that first night under the fluorescents. She had to know what she was doing to him.

"Okay," he relented, his voice a soft croon between them. Maybe there were more than just cracks in his resolve; chasms just big enough to fit her through, it seemed.

Laying down, Harry felt stiff despite the soft accommodations. Her pillow cushioned his head, a burst of perfume leaving the fabric every time he adjusted his position, her blanket around his form with that same smell weaved through the fibers. He'd never shared a bed with someone before, at least not like this. Never for just sleep, or under such stiff circumstances.

With his back flat against the mattress, he kept his eyes facing the ceiling. He didn't drift his gaze from the texture of the drywall, even when he could feel (Y/N) looking at him from where shelled on her side. The best he could do was shutter his eyes as if he really had any chance of sleeping tonight.

Harry had counted his breaths up to forty-five before he heard his name wrapped in her voice, a quiet call in the dark.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Are you okay?"

He paused in his thoughts then. That wasn't the kind of question he had been anticipating. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. "Yes."

When she didn't say anything more, Harry chanced a blink of his eyes to open his lids. Turning to look at her, his cheek to the pillow, he found her facing him with those glittery eyes. Every time it looked like one of those glitters wobbled too close to the edge, she gave a fluttering blink to rein it back in.

"Are you?" he pressed.

Watching, he saw her twist the position of her blanket in her grip. "I'm scared."

"I know," he told her, the words floating on a deep breath, "'M sorry, (Y/N)."

Her own lungs shuddered as she tried to mimic his breathing. "It's n-not your fault."

"Yes, it is," he countered, tone firm, "And, 'm sorry for that. I really am."

She didn't bother pushing the subject, just rejecting his fault once more with a shake of her head. Her eyes drifted down from his face, following the line of his form to the broad of his shoulders and planes of his chest. She swallowed.

"Can I... I mean, would it be okay if it...?" She floundered around her words, her gaze flicking from his eyes and to his chest once more as she carefully wiggled over the bed an inch closer to him.

Seeing her become so shy, Harry thought it was a wonder he couldn't feel the heat bubbling behind her cheeks as she tried to speak to him. He really was weak when it came to her, he decided.

He wasn't going to make her spell it out for him, even if he did think it was a bit cute that this was the kind of stuff that had her clamming up.

"C'mere, 's alright," he told her, shifting to open his arm up for her to slip against his side.

A breath of relief fell from her mouth. She didn't waste any time before she was sidling up beside him. Her hands that had been worrying the threads of her blanket were now twined in the fabric of his shirt. The worst part was the way she nosed at his chest, snuggling close to him. She really did trust that he would keep her safe.

He really thought he was doing the right thing, keeping her at such a distance. She didn't even know why they were on the run or what kind of situation she'd been dragged into, but Harry never thought this kind of comfort would be the thing to thaw out the parts of her that were beginning to freeze. He wished he was a better man—a better person—so he wouldn't feel so much guilt giving her something she wanted; so he wouldn't feel like he didn't deserve the way she had so easily melted into him.

Quiet puffs of air fanned across his chest as she laid on him. "How much longer?" she whispered.

He knew what she meant. Bringing his arm down from where he had it laid across the pillows above them, he wrapped it around her and tightened her against his side. "I don't know."

She sounded so tired when she spoke again. "Okay."

God, he didn't deserve her trust. He didn't deserve her.

As they laid together, (Y/N) falling asleep before him with her hands still fisted in his shirt, Harry knew that if he wasn't so wrapped up in his own brain and hadn't cut his feelings off, he would have cried himself to sleep.

—————

Sunlight streamed through the curtains Harry hadn't realized he'd left open the night before. He woke in bed alone, his arm still curled around an empty space that was still warm from a soft body. He never slept later than (Y/N). He didn't even know if he'd had any dreams.

That was when the first bang on the door arrived.

Everything changed in that second. Harry swore his limbs stopped working the second the sound waves traveled through the motel room. He didn't know where (Y/N) was, and now the past was here to catch up with him.

Words were shouted through the door—familiar voices that were reduced to nothing more than droning calls. He couldn't focus on what they were saying when he felt his heart in his throat. His arms wouldn't move. How was he supposed to get out of bed and try to find (Y/N) if he couldn't move?

Where was she?

Only moments later, those bangs and voices on the other side of the door joined him in the motel room. That was how he figured he was the only person stuck with lethargic limbs. The door was broken down like it was nothing with a swift kick and a heavy fist.

Guns were the first things he saw when they entered. The guns lead to burly arms, tattoos he knew too well, and men he had left in a past life. These were the ones he thought he had taken care of when he ran away all that time ago, but now they were here to avenge him themselves. He couldn't pick out individual heartbeats anymore, the paces feeling like a constant stream as he looked at his past.

The instincts Harry expected to take over never came, even when heavy boots stomped over (Y/N)'s duffle bag left open on the floor.

It was then that (Y/N) made her appearance. Stepping out of the bathroom, she looked just like the day he'd first met her. That same cardigan and bow he didn't know she'd packed were adorning her body, bright eyes that he swore he had almost memorized under those grocery store lights now looking wild.

(Y/N) screamed when she realized what was going on. The sound drowned out the beat of his heart.

The men seemed to have grown bigger, looking huge beside (Y/N). Especially when one reached out and grabbed her.

The barrel of a gun was pressed to the side of her head, a heavy forearm crushing against her windpipe. The force cut off every scream she tried to let out.

Harry laid there, limbs too heavy to even throw the blanket off of him. He watched as (Y/N) cried with tears running rivers down her cheeks.

"(Y/N)!" he instinctively shouted.

Two thick voices began talking again. Every word was like mush to Harry's ears. He only heard the bits where they promised they were going to kill her. All because of him.

"H-Harry, pleas-se help m-me," she choked out, the only clear thing he could pick out in the moment.

He tried so hard to wretch his limbs from the mattress, will the cement out of his veins, shake off the dredge of whatever it was that was keeping him down. He did everything he could, just short of actually moving and helping her. What kind of protector was he? Paralyzed by fear.

(Y/N) cried harder looking at him, clawing at the arm on her neck and kicking her legs against the giants around her. She locked eyes with him, caning her head as oceans swam around her irises.

"Why did you let this happen to me, Harry?"

A gunshot sounded.

All at once, the world came rushing back to Harry.

The motel was still dark as he forced his eyes open, a harsh breath filling his lungs. (Y/N) hovered above him with sad eyes he just saw in his dream.

That sharp gasp he took gave way to a heady sob, the crack in his breathing matching whatever broke inside him during his nightmare.

She's okay. He thought she was dead, and hated him, but here she is. She looked at him with concern and care, and everything he wished he could dream of with her.

Harry didn't hesitate before he was reaching up, cradling her face in his hands. Her cheeks were warm under his palms, bottom lashes tickling the tips of his thumbs as he brushed the pads over her soft under eyes. Tears he hadn't realized he was harboring trickled down his temples, falling into his hair as he looked at her.

"You're okay," he whispered, the words scraping his throat, "fuck, you're okay."

He couldn't help himself, mumbling over and over the fact that she was okay and here with him. He traced each of her features, feeling her warmth and every tiny movement of the muscles under his hands. She's alive, and she's looking at him, and she trusts him, and she's letting him touch her, and god, she's here.

"'M so sorry," he sobbed, his thumb cataloging the height of her cheekbone, "Pl-Please, don't hate me, 'm so s-sorry."

She had let him have his fun until then, allowing him to touch and mould her all her wanted. The second his apologies began to spout from his mouth, she reached her own hand out and pressed hair out of his face. She soothed him with small touches over his own face, wiping tears away and petting his hair back. She settled with a palm against his chest, her softened eyes now with creases between the brows as she looked down at him.

"I don't hate you," she told him, whispering an earnest promise, "It's okay, Harry. I'm not mad, it was just a dream."

He only shook his head. That wasn't the point. She didn't understand. "'M so sorry, 'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he babbled, his words thick on his tongue.

Harry wanted to say more, apologize more, tell her that she didn't understand all the things he was sorry for. He wanted to tell her everything, but all of that fell to the wayside when another sob ripped across his chest. He couldn't keep it together when she looked at him like that; when she so much as blinked or twitched her nose, that was how he swore this was real. She was alive and that was the proof that made sense in his brain.

Dropping his hands from her cheeks, he instead wrapped his arms around her and brought her to his chest. He cried as he felt her hands bundle his shirt in her fists, her small reciprocation of his clumsy hug. Her face was pressed against the column of his throat, the tip of her nose brushing against his skin and her heat melting against his own. He held her tighter when he felt her chest expand with a breath, his nose pressing into the crown of her head.

She was breathing. She had a beating heart. She could move, think, see, hear. She was real.

"You're okay," he sighed, his words barely a whisper.

(Y/N) nodded, the movement felt against his throat. He forced himself to breathe so he could hear her speak.

"I'm okay, I'm here," she reassured him, lips grazing his skin, "You've got me."

"I've got you," he repeated, voice shaking with eyes shut tight.

He could feel her smile against his neck. Another round of tears fell from his eyes. He liked knowing she was happy.

"You're keeping me safe, Harry. Thank you," she murmured to him.

A bubbling sob shook her where she laid on his chest. "'M keeping y'safe,” he parroted, his heart easing every time she fed him lines.

"I trust you."

Another deep breath, a tear following the line of his nose and sinking into her hair. "You trust me."

(Y/N) fell silent then, comforting him through touch alone as he came down on his own. The weight of her on his body worked to soothe him, evening his breathing as he didn't want to bother her with the racking sobs.

The longer he stayed on earth, the less real his dream became in his mind. He saw the real motel around him, saw the sliver of the night sky through the split in the curtains, saw the door tight on its hinges. He pulsed his arms around (Y/N) once more. That was the most important dose of reality.

In his better brain, he knew he needed to separate himself from her—that was the smart thing to do. He'd done too much tonight, taken too much when he laid up there with her in hopes of comforting her, not the other way around. But this was different even than the past time she'd saved him from a nightmare. How was he supposed to reject her hold, go back to feeling the chill of the room when he knew what it was like to have her pasted on him and telling him just how much he was helping her?

He knew there was nothing in him that deserved this comfort, deserved this woman, deserved any bit of the warmth he was feeling bloom in his chest. He knew that. But, god, did he wish he did.

If this was how he would get it, the loophole in the contract, he'd take it with both hands.

He hugged her even after his eyes fell closed and breathing evened out.

—————

the lovage herb represents strength; going forward despite the past.

this is a long one w lots happening!!! I really hope yu guys are liking the story only a couple of parts left! thank y sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas or requests for anything lmk!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry angst #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry style angst #harry styles x reader #harry au #harry styles au #love on tour #harrys house #pleasing #as it was #satellite

[robinfrinjs]

Always There, Women in Motorsport: The fast women of la belle époque

Women's history in motorsport is rich, and that has always been the case. Most of these stories however aren’t well known and aren’t spoken about enough. Women have always been in motorsport and always will be.

Three French women, Hélène van Zuylen, Camille du Gast, and Anne de Rochechouart de Mortemart are some of the fastest women from France’s La Belle Epoque (circa 1880-1914).

In 1898 Anne de Rochechouart de Mortemart (1847-1933) (also known as the Duchess of Uzes) became the first woman in France to obtain her driver’s license. While getting out of the car she announced with delight that woman had just overcome a new barrier. Not long after she also became the first to be caught speeding for which she had to pay a five franc fine.

in 1926 she founded the first female Automobile Club, L'Automobile Club féminin de France (ACFF)

The Duchess of Uzes in 1927

Hélène van Zuylen (pictured on the cover image) was a French author but also the first woman to compete in an international auto race. Baron Etienne van Zuylen, her husband, was the President of the Automobile Club de France

She entered the 1898 Paris–Amsterdam–Paris using the nickname Snail, while her husband used the nickname Escargot. She successfully competed the trail and entered the Paris-Berlin race in 1901 but was stopped by technical failure.

That year Hélène, a lesbian, would meet Renée Vivien with whom she would have an affair. Vivien's letters to a confidant revealed that she considered herself married to Hélène. Most of Vivien's work is dedicated to "H.L.C.B.," the initials of Zuylen's first names.

Just over a decade before she died, Hélène van Zuylen created the Renée Vivien Prize, Honoring the woman she loved and intending to give encouragement to female writers.

Hélène van Zuylen - Nouvelle Revue internationale illustrée, December 1908

Camille du Gast (1868-1942) finished 33rd (19th in class) out of 122 participants in the 1901 Paris-Berlin race. Du Gast, achieved the results despite driving her husband's 20CV Panhard-Levassor which was not designed for racing. She had to start the race in last because she was a woman. The race did mark 2 female competitors with du Gast and van Zuylen. She loved several extreme sports such as mountaineering, parachuting and frencing.

In 1902 she competed in the Paris-Vienna race and also wanted to compete in the New York-San Francisco but was refused entry because she was a woman.

In 1903 she would start the Paris-Madrid race. Which she would enter with a proper racing car, a works 5.7-litre de Dietrich car. It was a chaotic race with 207 competitors which unfortunately saw several deaths. Camille started in 29th and gained 9 positions in the first 120 km. She had climbed up to P8 before stopping to give medical aid to a fellow driver, Phil Stead (also driving a de Dietrich) involved in a near-fatal crash.

Camille du Gast in her 30 hp De Dietrich with starting number 29 during the 1903 Paris-Madrid Race

Later one of the leading drivers at that time, Charles Jarrot said that if Camille had not stopped Stead likely would have died. After an ambulance arrived she continued the race eventually finishing 44th or 45th in the shortened race.

The French government would stop the race at Bordeaux, as over half of the field (275 cars) had either crashed or retired and several drivers and spectators had died.

Open road racing was banned, so in 1904 Camille wanted to participate in the French elimination trial for the Gordon Bennett races, as the Benz factory team offered du Gast a race seat. But the Autosport Club France (ACF) banned women from racing. Du Gast published a letter in protest but the ban was defended as the ACF could not risk a woman getting injured or killed in a racing event.

Because of this she ventured to boat racing. One of those races was caught by a big storm which saw most competitors either abandon their ship or they sank. She was rescued and later declared the winner of that race.

Eventually she had to put a halt to her adventurous life when she survived an assassination attempt by her daughter. Nothing was ever the same for her after that. From that point she devoted herself to animals. She would serve as president of the 'French Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals'

NEXT UP > More female racing drivers from the early 1900s

#Hélène van Zuylen #Camille du Gast #Anne de Rochechouart de Mortemart #Women's Motorsport History #*History Series #*History Series: Always There Women in Motorsport #Women in Motorsport #Also a little bit of queer motorsport history ! #international women's day

[amphibiangeorgerussel]

soooo done with f1. lets have teams spend millions of euros building some of the most hightech cars that are engineered to be some of the fastest and that require years of dedicated training to drive properly. also lets race them in the road.

#we do not need more mid street circuits!!!!

[ladykailitha]

Across a Crowded Room Part 2

This has five parts and is complete. It will be released every Saturday.

In this we has Steve's friends be dim, Eddie bringing breakfast, and Steve be a lovable dork.

Part 1

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve had been shocked by the greeting of Eddie spinning him around. But not as flabbergasted as when Eddie kissed him on the lips just for saying that he missed him.

After Eddie left, Steve felt three pairs of eyes on him and he squirmed a little under their gaze.

“What?”

“Look,” Maria said, “you have been talking this guy up for weeks. Ever since you announced he was coming to stay for a week. And yeah we knew you had a crush on the guy, but this was holy shit fastest levels of yearning to relationship I’ve ever seen.”

Jarren nodded. “I mean, he’s hotter and cooler than you said he was. Like an actual record deal for his metal band? So cool. Long curly hair and doe eyes? So hot. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make here.”

“It better not be,” Steve groused. “Mine!”

Jarren laughed. “All yours, Steve. I promise. But the point I’m trying to make here, is that you kinda blindsided us with this one. Why didn’t you tell us about him before.”

Steve looked over at Robin. “I talk to him all the time. Like prior to him coming out to Chicago, we’d constantly call and text. He’s always commenting on my socials. Like I know I’m slow, but that is extreme levels of dense.”

Jarren and Maria glanced at each other in confusion.

“Wait,” Maria said, “you’re telling me that your ‘stalker’ is that guy?” She pointed toward the door.

Stalker was the name Steve’s friends called Eddie because he would always have commented or liked Steve’s posts by at least the end of the day. Faster than even Robin most days.

“You guys didn’t know?” Robin asked. “Like how many Eddie’s do you think Steve knows?”

Jarren held up on finger and then deflated. “Fuck. Yep. We’re idiots.”

Maria tilted her head back and forth and then shrugged. “Yeaaahhh.”

“I’m going to head home,” Steve said looking at his watch. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

They all waved him off with Maria promising she’d get Robin home safe. As he walked to the door he checked his state of drunkenness. He ran his tongue over his lips and decided that an Uber was a better idea than driving home.

He scheduled the ride on his phone and lit a cigarette. He had graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in education and basically had the whole summer off to get ready for the major change in his life.

Robin was moving out to New York to get her master’s degree and with any luck an internship at the UN as an interpreter.

She was super excited, but it would be the first time since they became friends that they would go their separate ways.

At first she had tried to convince him to do his last year of school in New York so that he could get his teacher’s certificate and teach there.

But as much as Steve was on board with the idea they both realized too quickly that Steve would be miserable in New York.

But Robin?

Robin would thrive.

So they had packed as much time together as they possibly could as they got used to the fact she would be leaving come summer’s end.

His thoughts were interrupted by the driver pulling up. After both of them triple check they were the other’s right person, Steve slid into the back of the car.

“Music or no?” the driver asked, looking at Steve in the rearview mirror.

“No music tonight, man,” Steve said. “I just want a little quiet tonight.”

The driver nodded and directed the car back to the main road that would take Steve home.

Steve made sure to tip well as the ride slipped by in blissful silence.

He thought that he would be thinking nonstop about Robin. About Eddie. About that kiss. But the quiet hum of the car in the darkness soothed Steve mind and while he didn’t sleep, he felt groggy when he got home as if he had.

He thanked the driver and began the slow trek up to the apartment he shared with Robin.

Steve stuck his key into the lock and sighed. Half the apartment was in disarray as it was nothing but half filled boxes and rolls of packing tape and bubble wrap.

Robin had already packed up her stuff and it was sitting in storage waiting for her to tell them to ship it cross country. The only bit of her things that remained was her clothes, which she had been living out of her suitcase, her daily stuff like toothbrush and shit, and her cellphone and laptop.

She had been sharing Steve’s bed because they needed to be next to each other. To hear the other breathe in their sleep. To know that their person was still there.

Yeah, okay so they weren’t handling it as well they had hoped they would.

He had taken off his shoes and flopped face down into the bed when got two messages.

The first was from Robin saying that she was staying the night Maria’s. Something they often did when they got too drunk. The second one was from Eddie.

-Sleep well, angel

Steve blushed. He didn’t even know why. There was just something so sweet about it.

-Night, Eds

He set his phone to the side and rolled over onto his back. He draped his arm of his eyes.

His plan was always going to be telling Eddie he was in love with him. It was also the plan was to move out to California with Eddie after the week. He was going to give up everything to be with him. Because he didn’t think he could live in Chicago by himself.

He had friends here. But without Robin to put a buffer between him and others when he got overwhelmed, he wasn’t sure if he could keep going out. He would become a hermit.

But now that Eddie was going to move out here, Steve knew that he would have other outlets for social interaction. He got along well with the other members of Eddie’s band and it would be great to see them again.

He got up and stripped down to his underwear. He preferred to sleep like that even in the dead of winter, but with Robin sharing the bed with him he had at least been wearing sweats to bed.

He slipped underneath the sheets and wondering what it would be like to feel Eddie’s skin between these sheets.

He fell asleep to the thoughts of Eddie curled up behind him.

****

The next morning was disturbed by the sounds of his soulmate coming home.

“Come on, dingus!” she hollered. “Up! I have coffee and breakfast.”

Steve was up and throwing on a pair sweats, hopping on one foot as he scrambled out to the kitchen.

He skidded to a stop and blinked at the sight before him.

“Look who I found on our doorstep?” Robin greeted cheerfully.

Steve smiled. “Hey, Eds. I’m guessing you are the bearer of breakfast and coffee?”

Robin squawked her outrage, but Eddie grinned. “Sure am, sweetness. Got you that caramel macchiato you love so much, an iced mocha for the lady and a dark roast, cream and two sugars for me.”

Robin glared at him.

“I kid I kid,” he said and handed her the black coffee. “It’s as dark as your soul, Buck.”

She took the coffee and sipped happily. “Yeah, you can keep him.”

Steve laughed.

“If that’s all it took to get soulmate approval,” Eddie teased, “was a single cup of coffee, I would have bought you one years ago.”

Robin pushed at him and then dug into the bag of breakfast sandwiches.

“What’s this?” she asked pulling out a sandwich in a plastic container.

Eddie snatched it out of her hands. “Mine!” He clutched it to his chest and hissed.

Robin held up her hands in surrender. She went back to her digging. She pulled out a breakfast burrito with peppers, onions, mushrooms, eggs and sausage.

“And that one’s mine...” she said sing-song, setting it to the side.

The last one she pulled out was a simple egg, cheese, and sausage on a buttery croissant. She handed it over to Steve.

“Is it creepy he knows our breakfast order?” she asked as she settled into to her coffee and breakfast.

Steve scoffed. “Robin you have posted about that same burrito almost every Sunday for the last two years, if he didn’t know what you liked, then I would be concerned.”

“Oops!” she said around a bit of food.

Eddie just shook his head and dived into his breakfast.

“What did you get, Eds?” Steve asked.

Eddie had just taken a bite, so he didn’t answer immediately. But he moaned happily around his bite.

“That, my darlin’,” he said once his mouth was clear, “is an eggs Benedict in a breakfast sandwich and I’m in heaven.” He wiped his mouth with his fingers and sucked on them to lick them clean.

Steve’s eyes went wide as he followed the movement. He licked the bottom of his lip and forced himself to look away before the situation got uncomfortable.

“It’s almost as good as the eggs Benedict Uncle Wayne used to make. I see why you guys love that place so much.”

“Yeah...” Robin said, “I’m gonna talk to Kendra and see if I can sleep on her sofa this week...”

Eddie and Steve’s heads snapped her direction.

“What?” Eddie asked, oblivious to Steve’s torture.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to be around when the tension finally breaks and you fuck like rabbits on every surface of this apartment. Just clean up after yourselves, yeah?”

She hastily finished her burrito and kissed Steve’s cheek. She walked down the hallway to their bedroom to change out what she was wearing and to shower.

Eddie chuckled at her swift exit. “I didn’t realize I was being that obvious.”

“I think it was the moan that got her,” Steve muttered going back to his sandwich.

Eddie leaned forward and whispered, “Why, darlin'? Did it get you?”

Steve blushed all the way to the roots of his hair. He chewed on his bottom lip and then nodded.

Eddie wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

“Eds!” Steve groaned, pushing the other man’s shoulder. “At least wait until she goes to work, yeah?”

Eddie cackled. “All right, darlin’. I’ll be good until then. But after that, all bets are off.”

Steve felt like heat slid down his spine to pool in his gut.

He gulped and went back to his sandwich. Eddie and Steve were finishing up their breakfast when Robin came back out. She had her bag thrown over one shoulder, ready to go.

“I’m off at five,” she said. “So if you two wanted meet somewhere for dinner, just text me before then.”

She kissed both of them on the cheek goodbye and sauntered out the apartment with a cheerful wave and a “Don’t do anything I would do!” said over her shoulder.

“I’m not sure which of us the menace anymore,” Steve chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

Eddie pulled Steve in for a kiss. “Babe, you share the same brain cell, I’m pretty sure the answer is both of you.”

Steve snorted but couldn’t deny that Eddie was probably right.

“I’m going to miss her when she moves to New York,” he said softly.

Eddie held Steve tightly. “I know, sweetheart. Have you thought about what you want to do after she’s gone? I mean I know you were planning on moving out...” he makes a vague hand motion at the mess around them, “but where were you thinking?”

“Originally or now?” Steve asked after a moment or so just staring at him blankly.

“Is the plan different now that I’m in Chicago?” Eddie asked, pulling back so he could look Steve in the eye.

Steve pursed his lips and nodded.

“Stevie...” Eddie said warningly.

“What?”

“What was your original plan?” he asked dryly.

“Throw myself at you and move to California with you when you went back at the end of the week?” Steve said with a grimace.

Eddie blinked a moment. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Steve asked tilting his head.

Eddie steered him over to the sofa and sat him down on it. “Let’s talk about this for a minute, because even though we want the same things it seems like we’re not on the same page yet.”

Steve furrowed his brow but nodded anyway.

“Hey,” Eddie said firmly. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing or that I don’t want to be with you. I do, but we need to have a talk about what being together means, okay?”

Steve let out a rough sigh. “Yeah okay.”

“So tell me about this plan of yours.”

Eddie settled himself on the sofa, twisting his body so he was facing Steve. He leaned one arm against the back of the sofa and laced his hands together, giving Steve his full attention.

“I was going to confess my feelings for you tonight over a fancy dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant,” Steve began. “Which I’m still taking you to, but maybe not tonight.”

Eddie smiled encouragingly. “Sounds good so far. What’s next?”

“And then if you told me you felt the same,” Steve continued, ducking his head, “I’d spend the rest of the week trying to convince you to let me go back with you to California.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “And what would you do back in Cali, baby?”

“I’d bartend,” Steve said with a shrug. “It’s what I did when I was going to school here anyway. Then during the day I’d get my teaching certificate in LA.”

Eddie blinked and then his expression softened. “Oh, Stevie. That sounds like a great plan. Too bad I blew by getting a record deal out here, huh?”

Steve laughed. “Nah, it just means I didn’t waste my money getting my teaching certificate for here.”

“So now what’s your plan?” Eddie asked after kissing him fiercely.

Steve shrugged. “Well, you’re here apartment hunting, so I figure I can tag along. Because something that might not work out for you...”

“Might work out for you instead,” Eddie finished. He licked the top row of his teeth thoughtful. “Sounds like fun. Let’s do it!”

“Today or later this week?”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s wrist and hauled him to his feet. “Go get dressed, baby, I want to go apartment hunting with you.”

Steve kissed him deeply and then went and did as he was told.

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Tag List: @counting-dollars-counting-stars @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

[onmyyan]

How each of your original characters dealin with Y/N who’s in labor? Who be panicking, composed, etc?

He packed your labor bag to maximum efficiency, has the car warmed and ready by the time he helped you outside, takes the fastest roads to the hospital, (he pre-planned route months ago), and is a picture of calm, collected energy, let's you crush his hand with the happiest smile on his face, he's been ready for this since the day you met and it shows

CASPIAN, ASHLEY

He's panicking but somehow gets you to the hospital on time, screams when your water breaks , you end up comforting him as you drive to the hospital at three in the morning, he's so fuckin excited it's coming out as anxiety, almost breaks the nurses arm when he sticks you with a needle too hard for his liking.

GABE, MARCOS

Finally we have the home birthers, for whatever reason you two decide to have the baby at home with a trusted doula/midwife, and he couldn't be happier, it's as private as can be, completely personal, lots of belly rubs and cooing, these MFS are in a state of half bliss at your child coming into the world and half scared because you're in pain, holds your hand through it all.

RICKY, MANNY, DIEGO

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #delmont brothers #yandere oc x reader #caspian delmont #gabe delmont #ricky delmomt #manny delmont #marcos delmont #diego dumas #ashley hunt

[vnmpior]

PAY ☆ ATTENTION

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

x fem! reader

summary: dragging yourself through an alleyway, you didn't notice the gleam of a metal barrel behind you, or the other pair of eyes looking through a scope, trained on you. maybe if you paid attention, he wouldn't be here taking a bullet out of you.

note: he's taking over my entire tiktok fyp this fanfic is the least i could do. i haven't played the whole campaign and i've mostly watched my mom play, so sorry if there's any crazy mistakes (although this has nearly nothing to do with the actual mw2 campaign) this is gonna be short until i'm comfy enough writing for him. intentionally lowercase.

not proofread + i hate this

☆☆.

you stalked through a dark street, only the moon illuminating your way to the rendezvous point, a safehouse. you tightened your grip on the handle of your rifle, alert for any sounds of being followed.

you had a slight limp, due to someone catching sight of you running away from the scene of majority of his cartel lying dead on the floor. before you could manage to pull your trigger, he shot a bullet that skidded right past your leg, causing you to wince in pain.

the man who shot you fell to the floor, gun clattering to the floor. you scowled at the red starting to slowly spread through your pants and decided that it wasn't bad enough for you to have to treat it at the moment.

"i'll just fix that at the safehouse. i've wasted enough time," you sighed to yourself, turning back around and continuing on your way.

as you left the building, you scanned the area outside in case there were any more cartel members, looking deeply into the shadows that could easily deceive you and cost you your life. if the area wasn't clear, you would be easily identifiable on the way to the alley, almost nothing to cover you and nothing but cars on the street to prevent you from being shot again.

after verifying that the coast was clear, you ran to the alley that you decided was going to be the way you made it to the RV from, since it would be easy to blend in with the cover of the night and was the fastest way to the abandoned house.

of course, that was true. but it was also true for whoever else could possibly be in the narrow road with you.

you hissed occasionally, debating if you should make a makeshift bandage for your leg before continuing on.

"viper, how copy?" ghost's voice crackled, breaking you from your thoughts

"i'm alive," you responded, gripping onto your radio. "son of a bitch shot me in the leg though."

"you got him?"

"of course, Lt."

"atta girl."

a few moments of silence passed, the only sound being your soft footsteps echoing off the walls, and then, something else.

you turned around quickly, gun ready. your eyes shot left and right, waiting for something to come out of the darkness. with your luck, they wouldn't even come out of the black pit and simply just shoot you.

"viper, pay attention." it felt like you could hear him from above, and also from the radio. was he watching over you? you would ask him about that later.

"fucking christ ghost, what the fuck do you me-" you stopped when you saw a dull glimmer from the moonlight hitting something metallic.

before you could react, or even pinpoint where exactly the person was, two shots rang out.

you heard a thump, and felt a sharp pain in your arm.

"fuck!" you yelped, dropping your gun to grip onto your left arm, feeling blood seep through.

"you alright?" you knew that you didn't hear a hint of worry in his voice. you knew he would chastise you when you got back for your late reaction time on now two occasions and how you could've died. he just wants to know you aren't lying dead on the floor.

"yes, sir. i'll get through it. i'm guessing you got them?" your bloody hand made the radio all sticky, and you bit your lip as you ripped a piece of your pants off and wrapped it tightly around your arm.

he ignored your question, or maybe you took your hand off the radio trigger a bit too early. "we're close enough to the RV point, i'll take the bullet out there."

your gaze went up to the sky, squinting to see if ghost was there. after not even hearing a single noise, you continued on your way to the rendezvous, retrieving your gun from the floor.

☆☆.

"miss me, lieutenant?" you limped into the building, grinning.

he had his arms crossed, and you couldn't read the look in his eyes.

"still mad at me? i'm here, in the flesh," you set your gun down against the wall and stalked past him, looking for some bandages and tweezers.

"what was that back there?" he finally spoke in the silence. "if i wasn't there, or if he didn't have such shit aim, what do you think would've happened?"

"good thing you were there," you snapped. "now before you start scolding me like some fucking grandma with her panties in a twist, how about you help me take this cold ass bullet out of me?"

you heard him let out a growl as he came closer to you, and you nearly sunk into the floor with how he towered over you.

the two of you stared at each other, and you narrowed your eyes, standing your ground. if anyone looked at the scene from the outside, they would find the height difference laughable as you craned your neck up to see him. most times, you loved the height difference and would even build your fantasies around how he could easily pick you up, but in times like this you despised his massive build and height.

"alright, sit down," he gruffly said, his expression still unreadable. "don't think i'll forget about this shit you got yourself into."

you frowned and made your way to the chair he gestured towards, taking off your gear and lifting your sleeve up.

he unwrapped your makeshift bandage and examined the wound.

"don't fucking flinch," he brought a lantern closer to the two of you and took the tweezers from your hand.

you shivered at the contact, but ghost seemed to not notice or he paid no attention to it.

you let out a groan of pain as he began retrieving the bullet.

"holy fuck ghost, can't you make it hurt any less?" you said through your teeth.

"what, do you want me to kiss it better? fucking hell viper, did you think me taking the bullet out was going to be all happy and fun?" he kept his attention on the wound.

you shut your mouth, not knowing how to respond. your breath came out harder as you tried not to cry out.

"what if kissing it better will help?" the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

the tweezers paused where they were, and you saw his eyes meet yours for a second before going back to the work at hand.

"for fucks sake, shut your mouth," he shook his head, acting disinterested, and continued. through the pain, you started observing him and the way his muscles tensed and untensed, his focused gaze on getting that bullet out of you, and his mask.

"ever gonna take the mask off?" you questioned.

"weren't you there with soap? the mask doesn't come off." he replied, and you heard a little ding as the bullet fell out.

you let out a sigh of relief, and ghost pulled away, grabbing a needle and some thread. as he turned his back, your eyes quickly shot down and back up before he could realize your attention on certain parts of him.

"how's your leg?" he nodded his head towards the bloodied side of your pants.

"he grazed it a bit." you pulled your pant leg up, slightly whimpering as the rough material slid over the open wound.

"bloody hell viper, that's fucking deep," he sighed. "i'm going to have to stitch this up also."

you frowned. "you sure this needs stitches, Lt? maybe if you put a little band aid on, kissed it, and called it a day, it'll heal," you winked.

"how about you stitch up your own damn self then, twat? you talk to all your superiors like this?"

"nope. you jealous?" you smirked.

"it sounds like you want to stich yourself up and have first watch," he replied as he started stitching you up without warning.

"holy fuck, ghost! a little warning?"

"maybe you should pay more attention to you surroundings. still haven't caught on that you could've died today? twice, apparently." he skillfully closed the tear on your arm, and then moved on to your leg, lifting your thigh up and setting it on a little stool.

"well i sure fucking didn't, did i? i never die on y'all," you were starting to get annoyed of being reprimanded like a little kid.

a shock of pain shot through your leg, but you ignored it through your anger. all he's going to do is constantly talk about this. maybe he's even lost complete trust in you when it comes to being alert and undistracted.

you loved it when he talked to you, having a "little" crush on him for years now, ever since the first time you worked with him, but you knew ghost would never let his work life mix with his love life. but him being pissed off and annoyed with you never felt good.

you looked down again at ghost closing up your laceration. your ears were nearly buzzing at how silent it was, and said,

"ever had a girlfriend?"

ghost hummed, seemingly now unsurprised in your random questions.

"no, i haven't."

"too handsome for them? the girls over there in the uk not good enough for you?" ghost put the last stich in your leg and began cleaning up, getting up from his place where he was crouching, which you noticed with a grin was one of the only times he was shorter than you.

"i don't think about dating. is that why you were so distracted today?" his accented voice made you have goosebumps with how close to your ear he was.

"what if i was distracted by someone?" you got up from the chair, wobbling a little due to the pain and probably even the amount of blood you lost on the way here.

"well, you sure as hell better stop thinking of them by tomorrow," he quickly grabbed your arm to prevent you from falling over, and your face flushed.

"but if they're always around me, how am i supposed to stop thinking about them?"

"so you have a little schoolgirl crush?"

"i wouldn't call it a schoolgirl crush. i've known them for years."

you saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

"if you want them so bad that you can't focus in an area with a bunch of threats, maybe you got to fucking get over it or tell them how you feel already. i don't need you making rookie mistakes on your missions."

"so i should confess to them?"

there was a pause before ghost responded, "do i look like a fucking love fairy? do whatever you have to do to start paying attention."

you made your way in front of him, preparing for the rejection of your life. hey, at least that would most definitely stop you from thinking about him all the time.

you looked up through your eyelashes at the built man towering above you.

"i fucking like you, simon."

"what was that?"

your head flung upwards to look at him, his hand gripping onto your chin.

"i said, i fucking like you," your eyebrows furrowed, and your face heated up in embarrassment. you attempted to look anywhere but him, but it was kind of hard when his face was right in front of yours, to the point where you could see every single little scratch and imperfection in his well loved skull mask.

"so i was the one distracting you this whole time?"

"yes! jesus christ, are you gonna kiss me or not?" you decided to let that slip from your mouth, impatient in how he was going to respond.

a hint of amusement danced in his eyes, and he took his hand away from your chin and lifted his mask off just barely to the point where you could see his plump lips, the yellow light from the lantern casting shadows on his face.

he inched closer, all the way to where you could feel his breath on your face and all you could see was his eyes. you licked your lips in anticipation, finally being able to kiss the one person you've wanted to kiss ever since you were a young rookie.

"will this make you pay attention?"

☆☆.

#i fucking hate this i'm sorry #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw22 #mw2 imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fanfiction

[cosmerelists]

Would Cosmere Characters Drive the Speed Limit?

You know, if cars and speed limits existed for them. (Potentially necessary context: I am a USAmerican)

For a different but hilarious take on Stormlight Characters driving, please check out this @saffronique post, which I spent forever looking for because I vaguely remembered someone else doing a driving post and wanted to make sure I hadn't copied them! Anyway it's funny; go read it: https://www.tumblr.com/saffronique/719947907049127936/was-just-struck-by-the-overwhelming-urge-to-rate?source=share

But now for a much more limited question: just, do they go the speed limit?

1. Nale: Yes but also no

As Mr. Beholden-to-All-Laws-of-the-Realm, Nale would of course drive exactly the speed limit! Except that he would also go immediately to the local jurisdiction, get deputized or whatever, and then obtain permission to speed all the time so as to Apprehend Criminals. So he'd actually be almost exclusively speeding but, like, legally.

2. Vivenna: Only at first

Vivenna does drive the speed limit when she first gets her license, because she wants to Follow the Law and be a Good Example for Siri. But, like, everyone is always so mad, and eventually she starts going just like 5 miles over the speed limit, which isn't even breaking the law, really. It's going with traffic! And then maybe 10 miles over, just occasionally 15 but only on a highway when it's safe! 

3. Siri: No

Like, going a bit faster is not a big deal, especially if all the other cars are doing the same thing. It's actually safer to go with the flow of traffic! 

4. Elend: Depends on who's in the car

Elend drives moderately above the speed limit like most people except if his dad is in the car and then he drives under the speed limit just to piss him off.

5. Vin: No

Vroom, vroom to be honest. Vin doesn't do things slow.

6. Dalinar: Yes

As a young man, Dalinar's speed demon ways led to the deaths of many people. So now he does drive the speed limit and insists that his sons do as well, whether they're in company cars or not.

7. Kelsier: No

Kelsier? Follow a law? I don't think so. He taught Vin to drive, you know.

8. Adolin: Not anymore

When his dad was really into Car Laws, Adolin did drive the speed limit per his dad's instructions. But he's since loosened up a bit. He figures he needs to find his own way to drive!

9. Shallan: No

Shallan drives the speed she needs to drive. Veil definitely drives the fastest, and Radiant is most likely to follow the speed limit. But on average...not so much.

10. Navani: No

Adolin can still remember being in the car with his aunt for the first time and being SHOCKED that she speeds. (In my head this is related to Adolin being shocked when he sees Navani wearing a glove rather than a full sleeve. This may not make sense to anyone else but it feels right to me).

11. Moash: No

Moash always wants to get to his destination as fast as possible. Also I just can't imagine him trying to follow the speed limit. 

12. Wax: Depends on the geographic location

Wax drives the speed limit in the Roughs but not in Polite Society (except in dense urban areas where he wishes to avoid, like, killing children).

13. Wayne: Does not have his driver's license

I feel this in my soul. 

14. Lirin: Yes

I think Lirin would argue that "getting to your destination thirty seconds faster is no reason to speed and put everyone else on the road in danger! Drive safe - arrive safe! That's what matters!" And then he would go exactly one mile under the speed limit at all times while everyone behind him honks. 

15. Kaladin: No

Kaladin spends three months driving very slowly after his dad shows him videos of horrific car crashes but eventually he just can't do it. He NEEDS to get there faster! People are DEPENDING on him! And he likes to feel the WIND in his HAIR as he cruises down the open highway! 

(Kaladin and his dad cannot drive together.)

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Nale #Vivenna #Siri #Elend #Vin #Dalinar #Kelsier #Kaladin #Lirin #Adolin #Wayne #Wax #Moash #Navani

[ozarkthedog]

Hi Ozzie!! Congrats on 11k ❤️

Can I request 📝 & public no. 6 (a quickie in a diner restroom before getting back on the road), with Dieter?? 🥰

thank you so much, Gideon! idk what happened but i took this and ran. hope you love this, my dude!

18+ mdni. dieter bravo x f!reader. sex in a public bathroom. w.c. 783

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

It was supposed to be a quick stop: fuel up, grab a bite, and get back on the road. However, you knew to expect a blip in your plans when Dieter was your co-pilot. 

Today, though, the blip turned into 35 minutes behind schedule because someone wanted to play an old arcade game the owners had set up in the back of the small diner. 

You let Dieter have his fun while you drank your coffee and went over your route once more. He looked so cute playing the arcade game in his long, green robe. You never could part that man from his robe. "I like to be comfy at all times," you recall him saying when he sunk into the passenger seat at the beginning of your trip. 

When you couldn't waste any more time, you gave him a '5 more minutes' signal as you made your way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was what you expect in a local diner. Small but relatively clean, thankfully. As you finish washing your hands, Dieter frantically knocks on the door.

"Let me in," he whines.

He's already turning the knob as you unlock it. He shuts the door quickly and slithers into the tiny space. Your ass bumps into the sink as you make room for the broad man.

"What's wrong?" you ask, worry framing your words.

"Nothing. Just missed you." he smiles, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Dieter! You can't worry me like that." you chastised, poking his chest.

He plasters his thick body against your own, pushing you further into the porcelain sink. "Sorry, love. I just thought we could have a quick fuck before we got back in the car." he muses, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You roll your eyes, but they stop mid-way when he rubs his large bulge over your belly. "Shit, D." you look at the door and then back to those wild, wanting eyes. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and tips his head, looking at you under his lashes. "You know how quick I can be."

You huff with a laugh. "Okay, Mr. Quickie. Let's go," you happily prompt.

"Oh, that means you're Mrs. Quickie! " he muses, laughing until his cheer is struck down. His eyes zero in on your lower half as you hike up your skirt and tug your panties to the side.

"Well, what are you waiting for." you dare, propping your leg on the window sill and wrapping your hands around his neck for support.

Dieter goes a bit dumb when you and sex are involved. He usually relies on you to tell him what to do. The second you snap your command, he shoves his sleep pants down to his knees and takes his cock in his hand. 

He teases your already slick opening with his throbbing crown before slowly pushing into your searing core. He doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, and his girthy base nudges your clit. He bites the side of his cheek, wantonly moaning into the small space as your walls stretch around him. 

Your "magic pussy" as he likes to call it, is already working, teasing and tempting him to fill you up.

"Best be quiet, D. We don't need anyone interrupting us," you say, combing your fingers through his hair and slightly tugging.

A whimper bubbles up from his throat. You press a single finger to his pouted lips before branding him with a kiss. He sets a steady pace, angling his hips just right and grazing all those sensitive spots he knows that get you off the fastest.

His bulbous crown notches something profound and devastating, forcing your arousal to rise steadily until you're drowning in the salacious rapture. His brow pinches tight, furrowing with a heavy need to stave off his own pleasure until he feels you come on his cock.  

His bottom lip trembles. With a silent command, you thumb at the plush cushion and plummet off the edge together, holding one another's gaze. Hushed whimpers and labored breathing fill the room as you melt into one. 

You exit the bathroom first, praying that no one will notice Dieter leaving the tiny bathroom a few moments after you. You keep your eyes locked on the floor as you make a beeline for the main entry, casually looking over your shoulder to ensure Dieter is tailing you. 

He curls a weighty arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side as you push through the glass doors and walk out to your car together. 

"You know we're gonna have to make this a road trip ritual now, right?" he grins.

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

#ozzie 11k birthday #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal