#car flasher

[wigglebox]

You are supposed to ride bikes WITH traffic. Not against. Ffs.

[britcision]

Also if you don’t use your turn signals not only might you kill someone but I will fucking punch you in the throat there were six months around 2022 where EVERY TIME I FUCKING DROVE someone tried to merge directly into my car

It was like I was suddenly a magnet

Every single time. No matter how far I was going. One time it was SEVEN SEPARATE VEHICLES in a single trip

None of them fucking used their indicators

Every single time you merge or turn without flicking your turn signals please be aware I am psychically twisting your organs into spaghetti xoxo

Why do so many people make tiktoks while they're clearly driving. What the fuck. Stop that shit, you're gonna kill someone.

[merlinsear]

I accidentally stole a parking spot from someone and now I feel like an awful person before 7am

[santabarbaraautowerks]

How to Tell if Your Volkswagen Beetle Needs a New Flasher Relay?

Did you know… Volkswagen sold over 21 million Beetle units worldwide between 1938 and 2003? Iconic design, affordability, reliability, and versatility have made this model a beloved and enduring vehicle across generations. However, it is not without flaws… Today’s blog post is about one of the most complained about issue in the VW Beetle model―flasher relay failure.

What Is a Flasher Relay?

The flasher relay is essentially an electrical component found in almost all vehicles… entrusted with the task of controlling the blinking of turn signals/hazard lights. When the driver activates the turn signal, the flasher relay completes an electrical circuit and cycles the power on and off in order to create a flashing effect.

A properly functioning flasher relay is required for your VW Beetle’s turn signals and hazard lights to operate smoothly. If there is something off with the flasher relay and it is not working as intended, the turn signals and hazard lights will have trouble performing their duties in an orderly manner.

Common Symptoms of a Faulty Flasher Relay

#1- Turn signals not working: To create a blinking effect the flasher relay provides intermittent power to the turn signals. If the relay is defective, the power supply to the lights will be disrupted, hindering their ability to blink at a normal rate. Just to be clear… issues with the wiring, connections, and bulbs can also result in such a problem. So, before replacing the relay… have the said elements checked.

#2- Erratic blink rate: The rate at which the turn signals will blink is regulated by the flasher relay. The relay works by conveying electric power to the turn signals in a rhythmic pattern… so that they blink at a steady pace. If the relay malfunctions and fails to maintain correct timing, the lights will blink at an abnormal rate… either at a faster or slower pace than normal.

#3- No sound from the turn signal: A clicking sound will be emerged when the turn signal is activated… This noise is produced when the flasher relay switches the electrical current on and off in a pattern. You can tell a lot about the flasher relay’s health from this sound. The generation of an inconsistent clicking noise could mean the relay is faulty and needs to be replaced.

#4- Emergency flashers not working: Volkswagen Bettle hazard lights not turning on? It could be due to the fact that the flasher relay has failed and needs to be replaced. To be sure if this is the case… check if both the right and left side lights are functioning properly. Since both side lights are controlled by the same relay circuit… an issue with the relay will have a simultaneous impact on their flashing pattern. 

Potential Causes of Flasher Relay Failure

#1- Short circuits or blown fuses: One of the leading reasons behind flasher relay failure in VW Beetles is an electrical short circuit caused by an unintended connection between two wires or terminals. An electric surge resulted from a short circuit can overload the relay, hindering its ability to perform its intended function.

#2- Internal component failure: To control the timing of the blinkers, the flasher relay manipulates the power flow with the help of many different electrical components including resistors and capacitors. If any of these electrical components fail due to constant use or exposure to heat, the flasher relay will malfunction, impacting the turn signal and hazard light functionality.

#3- Faulty wiring: The wires powering your VW Beetle’s flasher relay can become damaged over time… due to wear and tear or exposure to elements such as water, dirt, heat, etc. This may prevent the relay from receiving the correct electrical signals, contributing to issues such as erratic flashing behavior, delayed response, etc.

Closing Remark

For the blinkers and hazard lights of your Volkswagen Beetle to function as they should, its flasher relay must be in good condition. It plays a crucial role in creating the flashing effect by manipulating the flow of power. Like any other electrical components… the flasher relay your vehicle come equipped with can malfunction. A faulty relay can contribute to issues such as abnormal turn signal behavior. Ensuring the upkeep of such a vital component is therefore important.

[liopleurodean]

The Cars trilogy will always be the greatest Pixar movies TO ME.

[noohyah]

Why Is My Car Turn Signal Not Working but Hazards Do? SOLVED

Ever wondered why your car’s turn signal plays hide and seek while the hazards seem to have a perfect attendance record?  It’s a common hiccup that many drivers encounter.  Picture this: you’re cruising down the road, ready to make that smooth turn, only to find your blinker taking an unscheduled break.  Frustrating, right?  But hold on, don’t hit the panic button just yet.  Let’s unravel this…

[icaruspendragon]

i’m driving home thinking about my silly little fictional characters. a car flashes their lights at me. i slow down. there’s a state trooper sitting in the parking lot of a baptist church. on all levels except physical i’m making out wet and sloppy style with the light flasher.

[ottocre]

˚✶ * busted lip w/ kageyama

m.list / wc: 815

    your window rolls down, thick bouts of wind whistling past you. resting your elbow against the wood, you rest your chin in your hand, feeling every bump on the road against your jaw. the drive has been long and tumultuous, the tension growing thick within the car's bounds, only barely releasing as you open your window.

  just as stubborn, kageyama looks towards the road, jaw clenched. you'd never been on a road trip together before, never even thought anything would be an issue. however, now his hand tightens around the steering wheel, knuckles growing white. his chest moves quickly as his breathing heightens. 

  he wants to say something, just to break the silence, even if it meant continuing the argument. because at least then you aren't staring out the window, not even glancing towards him. kageyama bites at his lip, any sense of anger or resentment trickles away as soon as he sees the frown on your lips. your shoulders drop from their usual height, your legs pulled as close to your body as they physically can in the seat. 

  kageyama's not one to pick up social cues, unless it's you. and as he stares at you, he knows he shouldn't say anything. giving you space is exactly what you need, except he can't bear the silence, he can't bear the tension, "do you want to stop soon-"

  "you already told me you didn't want to stop, so let's just keep go-" you reply, tilting your head ever so slightly until he accidentally hits a pot hole.

  your elbow raises and falls back against the car, chin quickly following. as your chin hits against your hand, your teeth bite down on your lip, drawing blood. "oh shit," you immediately yell, hand reaching up to wipe at your lip, "oh god that hurts."

  kageyama swallows hard, absentmindedly putting on his four-way flashers, pulling off onto the side of the road. "y/n, i'm so sorry, i didn't see the pothole," he pushes the car into park, looking over as you open up the car door and stepping on the grassy open area. 

  you feel tears build in the corner of your eyes. pain sending throbbing sensations throughout your head, blood smeared along your hand. the grass just barely brushes against your ankles, wind whipping past your ears and running through your hair. "here, let me look at it," kageyama jogs around the car to reach you.

  "tobio, it's alright, i got it covered," you shake your head, staring off into the tree line.

  kageyama's eyebrows furrow, the corners of his lips turning downwards into a frown. "just let me look, i've gotten enough torn lips in volleyball," he reaches out to your arm, hand hovering under your elbow, yearning to be close to you.

  "sorry, fine.. okay," you turn towards him, unable to keep your gaze on his for any longer than a few seconds.

  his fingers gentle hold up your chin, eyes squinting as they inspect your wound. there’s not much there besides a split in your lip with blood trickling out of it, growing slower with time. he purses his lips, raising his thumb up to wipe away the blood. you can feel your heart rate rising as he does so, feeling the same giddy feelings you felt the first time he kissed you, even when you feel you should be angry.

  kageyama looks towards your eyes, waiting patiently for yours to meet his. “i’m sorry, i didn’t meant to do this. and i never wanted to make you upset,” he can feel his stress melt away as soon as he sees your beautiful eyes staring back at him, acknowledging him.

  “i know, i just wish we could be more spontaneous. this is our first road trip together, i want to stop at the random pit stops, grab gas station snacks that are so unhealthy. i know that spontaneity is not your strong suit, and i accept that, i was just hoping this once that you would at least try,” you reach your hand up, grabbing his to remove it from your chin. 

  your hand wraps around his so naturally, fingers intertwining until his thumb runs circles into the back of your hand. kageyama nods, taking in everything you’re saying. “okay, i can do that. and can you please just talk to me instead of turning away? i can’t understand you if you don’t let me try,” his eyebrows drop, turning upwards as his lips turn into an apologetic frown.

  “yeah, i’m sorry about that, we wouldn’t even be stopped like this if i hadn’t done that,” you shrug your shoulders, still feeling your lip burning from the pain.

  kageyama shakes his head, a smile finally forming on his lips. wrapping his free hand around your waist, he leans in to give you a soft kiss, careful to not bruise your lip any further.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Hell Has Officially Frozen Over

Prompt Day 9: Icy Roads | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Future Fic, Reconnecting in Your Hometown, Old Friends, Pre-Steddie

It's bad. It's really, really bad.

Eddie white-knuckles the steering wheel of his pickup truck wondering if he's ever gonna make it to Hawkins as he barely crawls along. Not only is it nearly impossible to see, but the roads are slicker than shit already. It's like this snuck up on them, and the state didn't even have time to salt the roads.

He should have left an hour earlier.

Hell, he should have left a day earlier.

It's heading towards being a whiteout. Which is pretty fucking gorgeous, honestly, but not when he's having to drive in these blizzard-like conditions.

Easing down the highway, not another car in sight, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him. A slight glow, off to the left.

As he approaches, he's pretty fucking certain that he's seeing the faint glimmer of taillights off in the ditch. A car probably missed that little curve, and slid off in the ditch.

Fuck.

He should stop. But he isn't exactly sure how or where he might be able to do that safely.

Fuck it.

He hasn't seen anyone else out in miles, so he stops in the middle of the two-lane highway. He'll check real quick, see if there actually is anything, or if it's just his eyes deceiving him after all this white.

He turns on his flashers, but he's not sure that'll help anyone see him in this near zero visibility. 

Eddie pulls out his Maglite, and is thankful Wayne was always so adamant that he carried one.

He's pretty sure there is a car. Something covered in white, and lodged into the snowbank.

"Hey! Anybody in there!" Eddie hollers. 

He stops to listen, and he doesn't hear anything — then. A dull pounding. 

"Goddamnit," Eddie mutters, but slides down the ditch, and once he gets closer, he hears the pounding again. Hand against glass. 

The passenger window is covered in snow, and Eddie starts brushing it away as fast as he can. It's fucking freezing, even through his gloves.

He gets the window cleared, and a face appears.

"Eddie?!"

It's Steve Harrington. 

Shit.

Eddie leans down to get a closer look.

"You okay?" Eddie asks through the window and Steve nods.

"I'm stuck. I can't open either door, or the windows!"

"Want me to break in?" Eddie hollers, and Steve nods. 

Eddie moves to the back window of the car, and yells back, "Cover your eyes!"

Steve leans forward, and Eddie bangs the butt of his metal flashlight against the window. It doesn't give. Fuck. Apparently it's gonna take more power than that. 

He rears back and gives a really good whack this time, then another, harder, near the corner, shattering the glass into the car. 

"Hey! Still okay?" Eddie asks, brushing glass from the window sill with his flashlight. It's safety glass, and not sharp, but he can't imagine crawling out over it would be a whole lot of fun, still.

The soft glow of the lights Eddie could see goes out, and then Steve's head pops back into view as he crawls over the console of the car, and into the backseat.

"I'm good, I think. Just thought I might freeze to death before I was able to get myself out."

Eddie holds out his hands, and offers Steve help as he tries to slide out of the now broken window. It's a tighter fit than seems comfortable with his heavy winter coat on, but together they pull him out. 

"Sorry about the window."

"No, no. Thanks for stopping. I figured I was stuck until INDOT came out tomorrow."

They climb up the ditch and towards Eddie's pickup, to see if they can find something to at least cover the broken window.

After, Eddie can't get the traction to get going again. He looks around. He does have some gifts for Wayne, and unwraps one, dumping the contents in the seat, then with his pocket knife, cuts the box into four pieces, one for each tire.

It's enough. He's able to get them edging forward again.

Five miles to Hawkins.

But it seems like five-hundred at this rate.

"What were you doing out here?" Steve asks.

"I could ask you the same thing, Harrington?" Eddie banters back, and Steve laughs.

"Coming home from the airport-"

"That was a rental? Oh shit."

Steve laughs, but continues, "I promised I'd do Christmas at home this year," Steve admits.

"Oh, so this blizzard is your fault."

"Huh?" Steve questions, confused.

"Hell has officially frozen over," Eddie teases.

And Steve laughs. Eddie has missed him. It's been too long since any of them have gotten together. Once out of Hawkins, it's been really hard to return.

"Something like that," Steve says, but he's smiling at Eddie, "What brings you home?"

"Wayne," Eddie says. Wayne's the only reason he'll step foot into this town these days. 

There are no other cars on the road. They're the only dummies out and about in this shitshow.

When they pull up in front of the Harrington house, Eddie turns to look at him.

"Thanks for rescuing me," Steve says, meeting his eyes in the dark.

"Hey, I definitely owed you one. You rescued me first."

Steve reaches over and squeezes Eddie's hand, "You didn't owe me anything. It's been good to see you, man. You look good."

Eddie flips his hand over so he can squeeze back, "If the parents get too stifling, come to Wayne's," Eddie offers.

"Expect me. How long you here?" Steve asks.

"A week, you?"

"Same."

"Let's definitely catch up," Eddie offers, and Steve's nodding, hard. 

"Yeah, let's do that. You and me."

"The Hideout," Eddie laughs.

Steve grins, "All the shitty beer we can drink."

"Where's Buckley?" Eddie asks.

"She'll be here in two days, weather allowing."

"Let's gather up everyone who's home. Do something together again. We survived Hawkins once."

"Hell yes we did," Steve says, his blinding smile proof they can do it again.

This time, it's only Hawkins for Christmas.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[eilorow]

Horny Hunk - Car

Caden was sitting in his car, exhausted after a workout with his best friend Thomas, who was way more athletic than him, but would always go out of his way to bring him along and give him tips. That sweet attitude might be the reason Caden had a pretty big crush on him, though he would never admit it. Thomas was a chick magnet, and wasn’t shy about it. So, Caden was happy just being his gym buddy, and tried to stop himself from checking him out too much in the changing room.

He saw Thomas making his way to his car. “You’re in a hurry,” he said, getting inside. “Well, I didn’t know your showers lasted 20 minutes,” Caden shot back playfully. “Hey! The girl at the reception was checking me out, so I went and got her number,” his friend replied, showing the little piece of paper. “I see, so you’re just desperate to get laid.” “Maybe you should try, you know, your dream guy isn't gonna just show up, you have to talk to people sometimes,” Thomas said with a smirk. “All right, shut up now, before I leave you on the sidewalk.”

-----

They had been riding for a few minutes, not saying much, until Thomas pulled out his phone and started admiring himself. He never took pictures, but he did love looking at himself, especially after a workout. Caden glanced to the side as he was styling his hair up and looking into his own eyes; he couldn’t help finding it attractive. “Dude, check out these biceps,” Thomas let out with a chuckle. He was flexing his arms repeatedly, showing his noticeable progress, glistening with sweat. Caden tried not to look again, but couldn’t help sneaking a peek. He loved how big they were, and yet still defined…

“Shit!” Caden thought. He was starting to get an erection, and this was not the time nor the place. “Stop doing that,” he said. “You’re being weird.” “You’re being weird!” Thomas replied. “You’re not even complimenting your friend’s awesome gains.” Caden kept his eyes focused on the road, but felt more and more uncomfortable in his seat. “You should feel them, bro, they’re so tight-” “Stop that! I am not touching you!” Caden snapped, though he was blushing slightly. Thomas grinned even wider, finding his reaction funny. “Come on, man! You don’t like it when I do that?” He grabbed his friend’s wrist and brought his hand to his chest. “Feel that, dude. Real muscle.” “Dude, stop!” Caden was actually getting horny now, and had to quickly turn his flasher on and pull over to the side of the road. “Cade, why are we stopping? I’m just messing with you!” Thomas said, playfully punching him on the shoulder. But Caden wasn’t paying attention anymore. He grasped the arms of his seat, a familiar feeling stirring inside him.

Caden tentatively glanced down at his crotch, and saw what he expected to see: his boner was straining against the front of his shorts, visibly getting bigger. He groaned as his transformation began. His hands widened slightly, gripping his seat even tighter, while his arms started packing on muscle rapidly. He tilted his head back, making a whining sound that slowly got deeper. His throat thickened slightly and his chest widened, better adapting to his large arms. Caden groaned again as he felt himself getting taller and felt his pecs filling up, his loose tank top now barely reaching his waist. A hint of abs, more than he ever had, was peeking from under it. His legs stretched too, his thighs getting bigger and his calves gaining definition. The young man, feeling his feet pushing against the front of his shoes, pointlessly tried taking them off by rubbing them together. He then had to spread his legs apart to make space for his bulge and his growing asscheeks.

Thomas was watching the scene, bewildered, and started getting scared, not knowing what was happening to his friend. At this point, Caden was almost as big as him, if not bigger. He tried exiting the car, but his door was locked. As he tried reaching over him to get to the lock, his friend grabbed his wrist with his right hand, his fingers thickening and strengthening his grip. He brought it down to his chest, and slid it under his tank top, on top of his pecs. “You should feel them, bro,” Caden said in his new deeper voice, smirking cockily. Thomas couldn’t help but admire the two mounds as he felt them ballooning under his touch, growing full of powerful muscle. He looked up at the growing man’s face, seeing his friend’s boyish features hardening into squarer, more manly shapes. A hint of stubble also covered part of his face. At this point, Caden was fully enjoying his transformation. He grunted and flexed his arms as he grew again, arms becoming powerful rods of muscle and shoulders bulging outwards. His shredded 6-pack abs were clearly visible just above his widening waist and remarkable cum gutters. He had to pull his legs up slightly as he grew taller again, his thickening thighs making it somewhat difficult. Two loud tearing sounds could be heard as his feet burst out of his training shoes, now several sizes too small. A third ripping sound was heard as his ass grew into a large bubble butt, tearing his shorts right down the middle and freeing his large erection that was nearing 9 or 10 inches now, by how it was tenting the front of his underwear.

Just as Thomas thought the growth was over, Caden let out an even deeper groan. His neck became incredibly thick, his shoulders broadened to the point where he barely fit in the driver’s seat, and his pecs blew up again. It was a miracle his tank top was still intact; it was stretched out over his chest and powerful back muscles, and his pecs were jutting out from the sides. It didn’t even reach his abs anymore, stopping right above his chiseled 8-pack. His legs, already confined in the small space, lengthened one last time, bringing him easily over 6’6. Below them, his feet finished their steady growth, tearing apart his short white socks. Finally, a last ripping sound was heard as his underwear gave way and his enormous 12-inch jock cock erupted from its confines, pointed straight up, the swollen head already leaking pre-cum. Thomas stared at it, feeling his own erection straining his shorts, almost against his own will.

Cade, the Hunk, horny in an almost feral way, grabbed Thomas by the back of the head and shoved him on his throbbing member. He struggled to even fit the thing in his mouth, because of how long and thick it was, but he started hungrily swallowing and licking it, experiencing the salty taste for the first time. Cade closed his eyes in bliss, pushing out deep moans from his enlarged throat. It didn’t take long before he pulled Thomas off and shot ropes of cum, again and again, all over his dashboard, tilting his head backwards and bellowing out a last groan. Thomas, seeing his friend’s humongous dick spurting cum with such intensity, came on the spot. They both panted, out of breath after their simultaneous orgasms.

-----

Caden sighed, using yet another tissue to clean the cum off his dashboard. He was back to normal now; it never took him too long. He shot a disgruntled look at Thomas, who still seemed a bit shaken and out of breath. “When I tell you to stop, you have to stop. You understand why, now?” Thomas nodded, looking at the stain at the front of his shorts. “I can’t believe you had to find out about this,” Caden added, annoyed, but blushing slightly. Thomas looked over. “When were you planning on telling me?” he asked. “Never!” snapped Caden. “It’s not the sort of thing I bring up in the middle of a conversation, you know. I don’t tell anyone that doesn’t need to know.” Thomas looked at him again, a smirk on his face. “Well, now that I know… Could we do this again sometime?”

[megangovier]

Expelled | J.M Fic

Pairing: Stepdad!Joel x brat! fem! reader Summary: Joel was heading out on lunch break, when his phone blew up with notifications of links and videos of you doing nasty things with your teacher, angry he drives to your college and confronts you in private. Y/n describes her "time" with her teach and Joel bends you over the desk" Warnings: 18+ only // age gap 21/30s // punishment // slapping x1 // slight s&m! reader // swearing/degradation // spanking // fingering // ear biting // finger sucking // Joel being jealous // biting // Minors Do NOT interact!. Author's note: I'm not responsible for what you view on your algorithm, so if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll past! Thank you <3 pic isn't mine mention of y/n This is all fictionalised, nothing from this fic should be taken into the real world, it's all fantasy! for my stepdad!Joel sluts😏 Wc: 1k

Joel was in his office, sitting at his desk sipping on his rich americano with a beaming smile on his face. He thought to himself it's not going to be bad of a day and it's going to go his way for a change. As the clock turned for his lunch break he decided to head out to get something hot and sweet, walking into an elevator two people looked at him with a distain look in their eye. Confused, Joel just shrugged it off and ignored them thinking they just heard some bad news of some sort.

Getting out of the elevator, they ignored Joel's look and walk off towards their separate offices. Taking out his phone it started to buzz with notifications and links, tapping his password into his phone heart began to pound faster in his chest. He never gets this many notifications during working or even break hours. Clicking on a link that was sent to him a video popped up of a female bent over the desk with a older man behind her.

Squinting to look at the female properly his heart shatters and chest heaves, the woman in the video was you bent over the desk. No wonder he was getting dirty looks from his work colleagues, they must've know about this before he did. Muting his phone he watched the video, tears ran down his cheeks. Your mother brought you up to be better than this.

He calls his boss to say that a family matter has come up and if he could do an extra work shift tomorrow, his boss agrees and Joel headed towards his car, gets in and zooms to your college. Jaw clenching and knuckles turning white, he swears loudly in his car with the windows down.

1 hour later...

Joel parks in the parking lot, locks up his car and heads off into college. It was gone 14:00 when he arrived so you'd be finishing lesson soon which gives him plenty of time to talk to you privately. As he walks in, the college secretary asks "do you have any business here sir" walking upto the table his hands slam on the desk "I'm here to see y/n, I heard there's been a bit of trouble with her" anger flashers in his eyes.

"You must be y/n's stepfather, please follow me" as she got up from the chair, Joel's jaw was clenching again but harder this time. He was so pissed at what had taken place a few days ago in the classroom with y/n and her teacher. Stopping at the door of y/n's class the door opened and the secretary popped her head through "sorry to be a bother miss, but could I borrow y/n for a second".

A chill ran down your spine, getting up from your chair to face the consequence of what you did, a sigh left your lips and taking the bag with you, you left the class and followed behind your stepdad.

Entering an empty classroom, your stepdad asks the secretary if she could lock up the classroom so he could talk privately to you. She was hesitant at first but the matter had to be sorted, so she did what was asked and left.

Joel was looking at you with anger and distain, head looking down in "shame" he grabbed your chin and looked at you "A teacher, really! Why did you do it?". A smirk appeared onto your lips "why not? It was fun, the way he used his fingers to make me cu-" Joel slapped your face.

The smirk had gotten bigger "do that again, I dare you". Joel bent you over the desk, your nipples harden at the thought of your teacher. "You're one dirty fucking bitch aren't you, like getting used by older men huh?" His lips were near your ear "I bet you're getting off on this right now, getting bent over the desk at college, the thought of people viewing you through the window huh?".

Joel's fingers slide over your panties "fuck, you're so wet! I bet you're thinking of him huh, that teacher of yours, the way he made you cum by using his fingers" you bit your lip to keep the moan in "answer me slut!". Looking back at him with innocent looking eyes "yes daddy, I am" you said with a grin.

"well now I'm going to make you lose your mind". Sliding his finger in your soaked panties from behind, his teeth were nibbling at your ear backing up on him he pulled away "oh no honey, you don't deserve this, the right was taken when you fucked your teacher nasty girl, you've got to earn that".

A sigh left your lips, you really wanted to be filled with cock but he was right. You had to earn that back, getting back into his original position his chest was against your back, feeling the soppy cunt dripping with sweet juices "making such a mess on my fingers" pumping his fingers faster into you, Joel slid a hand over your mouth "stay quiet girl, we don't want anyone to bother us, unless you're into that" he said with a smirk.

Clenching around his fingers, he knew you were getting close to your climax "I can feel you clenching baby girl, you wanna come on daddy's fingers huh, I bet your still thinking of him? The way he was pressed up against you, grinding his cock against your ass hm? Or the way he fucked you dumb till your brain turned to mush"

Eyes rolling at the back of your head, legs shaking with ecstasy you bit down onto Joel's hand and squirted all over his fingers chest heaving, Joel backs away "dirty slut, my fingers need cleaning now! Come over here and suck them clean" sliding his fingers in your mouth, tongue swirling over them tasting yourself on them your pussy clenches around nothing.

"next time girl, I'll fuck you and won't stop till your pussy remembers my size".

This took two hours to write🤍

@strang3lov3 @toxicanonymity @cuntyhunty22 🫠

@milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @rositaa01xxr 🖤

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hello...~ sweet heart...~ may i've a request for ( any Transformers character you read And I hope you write to knock out too ) x sexy fem human s/o Who likes to tease them every time after going on a date with them ... please pretty please

((KNOCKOUT WILL BEEEEEEEE!))

"Come on! You don't need to be so prude, just a small drink!"

You kept on walking, the sound of your heels was stronger now that you were leaving the club, phone in your hand while calling a cab. You were currently ignoring this guy. What was his name again? Kyle? Something like that? Anyway, you completely lost interest in him by just hearing him make some grammatical errors, but he was one of those guys, the ones that just can't take a hint.

You literally slapped in his face your credit card just to avoid him offering you the cocktail that had appeared in front of you, the cheapest on the menu even, and even after you had responded in monosyllables, he was still as dense as a brick.

Or he was just very stupid, not like you cared enough.

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice here!" You don't need to act like a bitch! What, are you too good to talk with someone like me?!"

You just sighed. So he was one of those guys, huh? You just raised your phone, waiting for the line to pick up, only you and that idiot on the road… and a car.

"At least you can respond!"

"Primus, can't you take a hint?"

After a small surprise, you smiled, turning around while a sports car moved closer to the two of you. The light of the club reflected on the shining red of the vehicle; the tinted windows obscured the rider, even if you knew already who was talking now.

"Hello, doll…" the male voice purred. "Sorry I made you wait with this idiot."

"Oh, it's fine, babe." You smiled, caressing the car's window.

"I thought you were still in the race!"

"I won, of course."

Maybe it was the luxurious car. Maybe it was the absolutely take no shit voice inside or the fact that you were actually ignoring his presence, but your desperate idiot held the expression of someone that has been struck by thunder: his mouth half open, his gaze shifting between the car, a European one, and yourself.

Then he said something…race? He was racing? A bolt of fear struck him like real thunder. Were you the girl of a mob or something?! He started to back off; your cold demeanor completely changed to a sweet one towards the one inside the car.

Oh, if he only knew!

"Jump in, doll; this place is too cold for a pretty thing like you."

One of the doors opens, allowing you entrance to the passenger seat. While maneuvering, the voice decided to pester that good-for-nothing one last time.

"By the way, she IS too good for you."

Before he could say anything, the car was already gone.

///

"Was that one of those hideous flashers that keep pestering you around, darlin'?"

"One of the few," you sighed, relaxing on the leather of his interior, feeling the warmth of the heated seat on your skin. "Not like I can't manage them, but this one didn't know how to get the hint."

Knockout chuckled, thanking himself that he still decided to plant that tracker on your phone. When he told you the first time, you weren't that sure about it, but it became quite handy, especially during his surprise visits.

"Well, how could I blame him? You look ravishing, darling…"

His internal camera googled you, admiring how your hand covered that small smile and that oh-so-adorable blush on your face. You were wearing a quite simple black pencil dress; its length reached just above your knees, with low shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline. The only accessory on you was the pearl earrings that he had purchased in secrecy once you had confessed to him how lovely you found that kind of jewelry. There was nothing extravagant about you; you were quite simple in the eyes of others. What really caught the attention of others, and Knockout too, was your way of acting, your way of leading, and that aura that could make the strongest Decepticon fall at your feet and make him pledge loyalty to you. Not like he acted like he was the strongest one, but the fact that you considered yourself his mate was enough to stir pride in his already strong ego.

You were beautiful, let's be clear, the kind that many men before had tried many times to hit on you. But despite the ones that didn't like the chase and the ones that couldn't understand that your interest was close to zero, no one really caught your eye until Knockout, but he wasn't even a man at all.

You met on one of those nights when they set up movies in open space. You didn't even notice him approaching your car, but you did hear his whistle, and for one second you did want to shout at him. Your surprise when He corrected himself, explaining that he was just complimenting your car. You didn't buy it at first, then he started to meticulously explain how beautiful and well preserved it was…well, he did enjoy the car.

You two kept on meeting like this, small talk here, some actual good conversation… You didn't know how, but you started to look forward more to meeting him, and so did he.

Maybe it was the curiosity, maybe the fact that for once someone was able to actually get you, but you ended up starting to get a crush on a guy that you never even see in person yet. And, probably, he started to feel something too, to the point that he needed to come clean to you.

He knew you were a curious one because he expected some screeching, maybe you fainting; instead, you just put your hands on your hips, expressing your disappointment at not being able to dine in some nice place with him.

Some soft jazz in the background—it was mostly your music, but he did end up starting to like it too.

If it was someone else, he would have found himself incredulous at how much your life was able to crawl under him, taking a portion and rearranging it like it was nothing, like it was natural or something meant to happen, but he wasn't like many others. Knockout had learned from the beginning of the war to adapt, to learn, and to use everything at his disposal for his own survival, being someone else or a cause. It was his second nature, maybe the most Decepticon trait he could ever have. But you were a welcome change, and he was proud to admit it…to himself at least.

You were his secret, the best kept, even more than his illegal races. He was more cautious with your small escapades than with his private hobby, fearing that someone would have taken you away from him. But he had his countermeasures; maybe the situation would had rised.

He felt your finger, outside the window, caressing with the tip the sharp line that started from the handle and ended just closer to the mirror. A small gasp exited your mouth, a disappointed look in your eyes, not for him, of course.

"Did they scratch you again?"

"Some idiot can't take a loss, darling. But, they got what they deserved."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not as much as I hurt THEM." He laughed, and you could not resist imitating him.

"Would a kiss make it better?" You purred again, feeling the engine going faster, the heating of the cockpit going higher.

You were goign to be the end of him.

[unholyhelbig]

Can we get a backstory for all to familiar? Like how they met and how she was before Kate trained her? Good work btw!

Title: The Woman in White (Read part one here)

Ship: Female!Reader x Vampire!Kate Bishop

Warnings: Vampire tendencies, blood, dom/sub dynamics, reference to substance abuse, biting (She's a vampire), murder (Still a vampire), pet names, alcohol, mention of incarceration, stabbing, horrible grammar

[A/n: okay, so this is not my best work, but I gave it a shot. I've been dealing with school and work lately but I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the first part!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

There were little things about the large manor on Ivy Rowe that set off alarms in your mind. Small inconsistencies that should have set off alarm bells in your mind, red flashers screaming loud enough to tell you this was a horrible idea. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug and the way it filled your veins won out against rationale every single time. It certainly clouded your senses when you combined it with piss warm beer and a rolled blunt that was mostly stems.

The back door was open, so really, it took away one half of the misdemeanor from your already extensive record. It was cold in the house, dark and empty enough to dry half the water that clung to your body. The scent of chlorine clung to your skin and prickled dangerously. Fuck, it was massive in here.

You had an objective. There had to be a bathroom close by. But the kitchen was so captivating. Everything about the home was. Your intentions were innocent enough. You and a few friends often got tipsy enough to wander Ivy Rowe for a heated pool in the middle of September nights. Summer homes that were abandoned. Unguarded. People that had too much money for their own good.

You’d done worse. Crimes that were not so victimless, ones that would keep you up at night. Stolen cars and bloodied knuckles. Things that had you shivering into yourself from something other than the cold tile under your feet. Perhaps the reason why you were padding into a strangers kitchen now, peering into mostly empty cabinets when you ought to be returning to the warmth of the water instead. Where exactly had you gone wrong?

The school guidance counselor blamed the foster care system. You blamed the fact that she shook her Tupperware container filled with chopped salad (too much onion, too little mouthwash preparedness). Later, after court mandated therapy, you would pin the blame on the lack of love you got from your father before he got hit by a train when you were six. Now you just blamed your lack of motivation and your horrible job as a grocery bagger.

The fridge was empty, safe for a box of baking soda. Instead, you opened the freezer, rewarded with a chilled bottle of fireball. Something you’d vomited up on more than one occasion, but you were a fighter and the buzz of that outweighed the horrible memories. You whispered out a victorious “Bingo” at your prize.

Without a second thought you cracked the top off and swallowed back enough of the burning liquor to make your stomach tumble and your head fuzzy. Your throat had a pleasant enough burn and your initial mission was soon forgotten. Whoever owned this place was loaded, the exact opposite of you, who was working off an empty stomach.

You took a smaller, less greedy sip, as you began to wander the manor, feet numb to the coldness. There was interesting artwork scattered around the pristine white walls. Deep reds and brilliant royal blues. Windows that were covered in thick curtains and blocked your view of the pool. A grand piano that rested just adjacent to a large stone hearth, left unlit during the warmer months, you assumed.

Unbothered, you moved through the halls like a phantom. Not shoving things into your pockets, like you would have if you were interested in taking things. There was almost a calming trance that had taken over you with the aiding hand of the alcohol. You’d polished off a good bit of it by now. Besides, you hadn’t any pockets to push valuables into.

Dust didn’t coat any surfaces, your fingers dragging across countertops and the gilded edges of frames. Painted oil portraits that gave you pause, but did not turn you to stone as they should have. Your muscles were loose, and jaw even more loose, the spiced taste of cinnamon on your tongue.

Eventually, you found yourself in a library, scoffing as you skimmed the dark wooden bookcases brimming with all types of literature. Bound in gold and leather and tickling your senses with something akin to decay. One single book, you were sure, could sell for enough to cover your rent for at least a month. But you weren’t interested in that. No, you’d always had a soft spot for the written word.

You set the nearly-empty bottle of fireball on a coaster for posterity. Your fingers, long since un-pruned from being out of the water for so long, grasped onto a dark green book that was expertly bound. You pulled it from the shelf, testing the weight, dragging the pads of your fingers over the pages that were cut to perfection. It had been so long since you had held something of such prestige without the urgency to tuck it against your chest and zip a coat over it.

“In one moment, every drop of blood in my body was brought to a stop.”

Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the book. The world around you seemed to tilt but you had enough sense not to stumble back into the shelf behind you. Certainly not enough to stop your head from whipping up at a dizzying speeding. You wanted to hurl, swallowed the bile down, gripped the shelf all in one moment to steady yourself.

A girl- no, a woman- was standing predictably with a lit candle at the mouth of the library. She was a specter dressed in a white silk nightgown. Something that was once white, you supposed. It was stained in a darkness that you could smell over the liquor on your own breath as blood. It was smeared across her face, her lips and her fingers.

She had a tint to her cheeks that made her look human, and by god, you figured she was. Stunned and stupid and you stumbled half a drunken step because where was all the blood coming from? She had to be hurt. She wasn’t acting like she was hurt. No. This beautiful creature was entirely calm.

“There, as if it had that moment sprung out of the earth, stood the figure of a solitary Woman, dressed from head to foot in white” She continued speaking and you glanced down at the words on the cover of the book, not knowing what else to do. The candle had been set down and the flames reached the gold lettering on the front. “Wilkie Collins, if I’m not mistaken.”

You swallowed thickly, taking in the sight of her once more: the expanse of her legs, the height of her. The ethereal beauty. She reached for the bottle of fireball and polished off the rest, leaving a faint red ring where your mouth had been, clearly unsatisfied with what had been left.

“You’ve broken into my house.”

“Yeah, seems so. We interrupt something kinky?”

She laughed, a light an airy sound that somehow cut into your ears and sent a shiver down your spine. You nearly blacked out, stars forming in your eyes and taking over the majority of your vision. The woman was in front of you. Closer than just a moment ago. You hadn’t recalled her moving, nor the book exiting your hands but it wasn’t there anymore. How much had you had to drink?

Her teeth were sharper, shiner, up close.

“No, no. Not at all, doll. At least your friends at the decency to stay outside like the mutts they are.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, lady?”

She smirked at you, more of a snarl, her bloodied hand shooting out with unnatural speed to grip your jaw with startling strength. She was taller than you, wrenching your gaze to her own. You weren’t one to back down, not easily, but a whimper had escaped your lips at the feeling of her pure power. “Ah, you’re forgetting that you’re the one who broke into my house. You’ve got quite the mouth on you for someone at such a deep disadvantage.”

You hiccupped, leaning into her cold touch “I wouldn’t call my drunken charm a disadvantage.”

This had never worked for you before, and you figured it wouldn’t work for you now. All you’d ever done was amp up law enforcement until they threw you in a cell, or aggravate a judge until they extended your sentence with the roll of their eyes. You never really minded because it meant a hot meal and a bed to sleep in, albeit a scratchy one.

She scrunched up her nose, loosened her grip a fraction. Your breath was stuttered, the middle shelf digging deliciously into your spine. She’d backed you into a corner, her leg slotted easily between both of yours. It was icy cold and pinned you down with ease. Her fingers trailed down your throat, stalling at your pulse point.

The woman’s nose pressed into the small of your neck. She breathed deeply, pressing herself flat against you. The coolness of her cut through your haze, if not for a moment. A groan pushed past your lips. She smelled sweetly of sage and of what you recognized as blood. The slick adhered to your bare stomach, mingled with the scent of chlorine.

One of her hands dragged down the length of your stomach, the other squeezing your hip. She hummed against your throat, a growl that seemed to penetrate you so wholly that you felt it vibrate in your bones. Your body betrayed you, head leaning to the side to expose your throat to her.

“Jesus Christ,” She rumbled, pulling herself back almost violently, digging her hand into the side of your neck. Her tepid grey stare. She panted chest-deep, searching your face with something akin to confusion. Another stunted snarl “Fuck.”

There was an overcast in your mind, something that flickered, a triggered response that screamed at you to run. This was your moment. But was it really? You couldn’t find your way out of the manor. You had stumbled drunkenly in here and now that that high was working it’s way out of you in a tangle of fear, there was nothing left to do but stay pinned under this woman. This creature. This demon.

She swallowed down something, her words, the lingering taste of blood, maybe whatever was holding her back from finishing you off. She stared at you, eyes the size of cue-balls, face stained in dried red pulp. Ever captivating. You trembled under her touch, waiting for her to make a move.

“If you’re waiting for me to beg, I won’t.”

“Beg?” She chuckled darkly “For what?”

“Fuck me. Kill me. Release me. Whatever you’re meant to do with me, just fucking do it.”

She clenched and unclenched her jaw in an almost methodical way. Your words weren’t exactly measured, nor were they resigned. They just were, ruminating as the fear dissipated and the reality took it’s place. You’d been stabbed once during your second time incarcerated, a rusted blade shoved between the sinew of your ribs. Once the pain had subsided, and the warmth of the initial spurt of blood dried to something cold, you were left with the reality of the wound. Much like now.

“Interesting,” She rasped, running her thumb over your pulse with the slightest of tilt to her head. “Your friends, they pleaded until their throats were raw for their lives. Yet you stand here in defiance at the very thought of getting on your knees for me. Why is that?”

“You strike me as someone who is used to getting what they want.”

She caged you in with another snarl, nose nudging against yours, you didn’t so much as flinch. “You strike me as someone with nothing to live for.”

You were effectively riling her up. It sent a thrill straight to your core. You should quit while you were ahead, but the dangerous stranger was right. There was nothing you had to lose but minimum wage at a shitty grocery store. This was exciting, and fun, and you might as well test your luck before your brutal death. “I don’t see how that complicates things for you.”

“Darling, I think you underestimate my pension for complicating things.” Again, she wretched your face closer to hers, grip strong, hand gripping your chin, teeth suddenly grazing your cheek. “It would be easy to kill you. Easier still, to fuck you. Destroying you? God. I would love nothing more.”

Your head was tilted to the side in a show of strength, her mouth on the side of your neck. The woman was not gentle with her intrusion, canine teeth breaking past tissue and muscle. You yelped in pain, hissed as her fingers dig into your hips with bruising strength. Her body pressed flush to yours was almost a calming balm.

For her harsh words, she was gentle, breath hot on the nave of your neck. She swallowed greedily, your balance beginning to waver. The more she drank, the better you felt. Naively, you clung to her, and she supported you. The silk of her nightgown slick under your fingertips. You were quickly losing consciousness.

The edges of your vision started to pulse around you, a gasp pulling past your lips and inflating your lungs with desperation. You were shocked at the tenderness she embraced you with as she pulled the life from you. Much too gentle for someone ushering in your demise.

The hangover that accompanied death was worse than anything you’d ever felt before. Nothing compared to downing the handle of liquor that you’d lifted from the dangerous strangers freezer, nor the pounding headache and the crick in your neck that you’d awoken with in a holding cell next to a half-naked woman named Sherri who patted your head comfortably.

Death lingered, and so did the twinge of discomfort from the canine teeth that dug into your jugular the night before. You screwed your eyes shut, refused to spring them open. Afraid of the prospect of light. The wounds had scabbed over and even the simple movement of your arm to your throat felt like a task that you did not want to repeat. Shoveling wet sand.

“I was beginning to think I had gone too far with you.”

Comfort be damned. That smooth voice made your head spin. You were alert and pushing yourself up from the comfort of your aloofness in moments. You were in a bed, using the heels of your feet to shove yourself into the headboard. She did not flinch from your flailing movements, just raised an infuriating eyebrow.

You were dressed now, at least. A t-shirt that smelled of her, of sage and the metal of blood. Your own, you presumed. Still, you clutched at the blankets that covered you as if you were indecent. Neither of you were. The room was shrouded in the same darkness as the rest of the home. Would you ever have the privilege of seeing light again?

“Here, you should… drink.” You couldn’t help but flinch when she reached to the side table and picked up a glass of water, guiding it to your hands. “You’ve been unconscious for a few days.”

The kindness of her actions was giving you whiplash, and you were not one to fall for Stockholm syndrome, but your throat was incredibly dry and you swallowed the entire glass down with a quickness that was almost embarrassing. She watched you carefully, but there was nothing else in the room to watch.

She’d changed out of her nightgown, into something more comfortable and less crusted with your friends gore. You wouldn’t necessarily call them friends, now that your haze had cleared. You’d met them the night before when you bummed a cigarette off one, and then the rest seemed to come along.

It jarred you, seeing the creature with pale skin and inhuman beauty wear an ACDC graphic t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. She looked soft in the dull light, and you felt it was to disarm you. Your exhale was crackling, fingers gripping the duvet.

“Hungover, huh? Yeah. The venom is a real bitch.” Something akin to sympathy flashed across vivid stormy eyes. “I get carried away sometimes. I’m Kate, by the way. Kate Bishop. Katherine.”

You blinked dumbly at her, holding your inhale in your chest until it burned. She was a bumbling mess. A stark difference from last night. There wasn’t confidence, nothing that pulled through form the headiness of her meal, it seemed. But you knew it was there. You couldn’t unsee the flash of red in her stare, the pointedness of her teeth. The fear and excitement that had rushed through you at her touch.

She seemed desperate to fill the silence your racing thoughts provided “You’ve got quite the record, y/n. I’m impressed.”

“You looked me up?”

It hurts to talk, unbelievably so. The water had only soothed the ache so much but you refused to show weakness in front of her. She tilted her head in curiosity, running her tongue subconsciously over the length of her teeth. You clocked a glimpse of their sharpness when she hummed.

“Of course. I’d like to know who I’m going to share my home with. I’ve taken the liberty of shadowing your criminal record, by the way. All of your records, actually.”

“I… what?”

You supposed maybe you had actually died with that spiced taste of cinnamon on your tongue and two teeth lodged in your neck. Erased from the world with the ease of a rich unhinged woman. It could be as simple as breaking through the wrong fence, drinking from the wrong bottle of alcohol and picking up the wrong book from the wrong shelf. She must have read the panic behind your eyes because she cooed sympathetically, condescendingly, at you.

“Your purpose, your only purpose, is to serve me.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, body filling with an unbidden warmth. What had she called it before? Venom? It worked through you with a vicious pace. Hot and startling. Your veins lit up with devotion in a single moment and the rasp of her voice alone had you trembling to follow her orders.

You, of course, were not one to follow orders. It was in your nature to disobey and you grimaced, pulled away from her gaze and her power. She snorted. “You’ll fall ill if you fight it, pet.”

“You should have killed me.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” She let out a long sigh, running her perfectly manicured fingers over the dusty color of the duvet, as if she were bored. “Look, you challenged me last night. I don’t like to be challenged. I don’t like to be underestimated. Had you kept that pretty mouth of yours shut you’d be another meal like those smoke-tinged acquaintances of yours. But you didn’t. So I have no other choice but to teach you a lesson.”

“That’s it then, just two options, no middle ground?”

Kate let out a hum that morphed into something more of a growl that rumbled through her chest. She leaned forward, her arms on either side of you as you pressed yourself further into the backboard of the bed. There was an intricate design carved into the wood that you couldn’t make out, but you could certainly feel. She smelled pleasant and alluring.

She nosed into the edge of your jaw, and you sighed at the uncharacteristic warmth of her touch. Whatever she had done had brought something alive to her skin. Not the coolness that you felt the evening before. It was almost human. You felt the urge to pull her in closer, to press your lips to the plushness of hers. And her eyes- her goddamned eyes. They were the clearest thing in the room.

Your knees fell apart and she fit so easily between them, hovering over you, slotted like she belonged there all along. Your chest was heaving, her own breath soft and hot as it splayed against your cheek. “Do you know what I am?”

“I know what you’re capable of.”

“Yet, you continue to misbehave. Why is that?”

“It’s in my nature.”

“I suppose I can understand that.” She ghosted the words against your lips, punctuating them with nip against your bottom one. Her teeth were strong, drawing the metallic taste of blood and soothing it with her tongue. You sighed contentedly against them, mind hazing. “Don’t we feel so much better when we follow orders, though?”

Kate’s hand wicked into your hair, pulling back with enough force to make sure you looked her in the eye, but not enough to hurt you, voice raspy and firm with authority. “As my familiar, you will do nothing short of following orders. I refuse to award you with the mercy of death, sweet girl. You’re mine. We’re in this together, now.”

When she released you and removed herself from the room with a stealth that was inhuman, you found yourself with an unwanted ache. It was the venom of her bite, something she undoubtedly strengthened when she had dug them into your bottom lip moments ago. You could still taste your own blood against your tongue as you drew your knees to your chest.

Any argument died along with the lingering taste of yourself. Katherine Bishop knew no one would come looking for you. Another name that had been wiped away, another person who had vanished. You’d never made a lasting impression on anyone, had been cagey enough to push your friends away. Anyone without a penance for controlled substances had long since abandoned you.

It was just you and Kate.

She’d chosen wisely, and she knew it. Smug and rich, it seemed. You clenched your eyes shut and let the only two tears that dared to collect at your waterline slip down your cheeks in an unrivaled warmth. That was all you’d allow yourself. Anything else would be a sign of weakness.

You let your head fall back against the wooden headboard once more, eyes flicking to the pitcher of water on the bedside table. The empty glass that had a lip stain from your bloodied efforts. Resting snuggly under the lamp that rivaled the darkness was a book, bound in leather. A subtle comfort. A Woman in White.

[freeuselandonorris]

would simply expire to read your take on mechanophilia, free choice pairing but i feel like it fits mark?? <3

🙏 thank you r one thing about me is that if i am prompted to write carfucking i will. really run with it.

mark webber/his porsche 918 spyder. one interesting thing about these cars is they have a top pipe exhaust design, where the exhaust pipes are either side of the rear window instead of at the floor.

Maybe he’s a silly, sentimental old fool, but Mark loves his cars. More than some people, if he’s honest with himself, although he’s sensible enough not to admit that in public. It’s not that unusual, in his line of work. They’re all obsessives, to some extent. They all love their cars.

It’s just that for Mark, it’s physical.

He spends time with them all. Runs his hands over the sensual curve of a headlamp, down the arc of a door panel. Presses his stomach against the 997 Turbo S, smoothing his cheek against the spotless cool of the window architecture. He’s half-hard already, nudged up against the seam of his jeans. He breathes a cloud of mist across the pristine enamelled surface, wipes it with the cuff of his fleece.

The Spyder waits for him, resplendent in red with her Salzburg livery glowing faintly in the dim light. Mark’s cock twitches as eagerly as it had for any woman he’s ever bedded.

“Hello, beauty,” he murmurs, reaching out to touch her bonnet.

He’s doing the thing properly today. The weather’s been fine and dry, no rain or muddy splashes to mar her paintwork or dirty the windscreen. Took her out for a spin after lunch. She’s warm, still.

Mark groans, lets his hips roll forward. His jeans are digging in now. He burrows his hand beneath the hem of his fleece, pops the first button on his jeans, then the second. His cock flexes as the cool air hits him through his boxers.

This is almost the best bit. The thrill as he glances back to check the garage door is locked, cups himself through his boxers, showing the heft of his cock to his waiting car. It makes him feel like a dirty flasher, somehow, showing himself off like this as the Spyder waits to take whatever he gives her.

There’s a sticky wet patch over his cockhead already. He’d been horny just driving her, letting the rumble of the engine soak through his tensed thighs and tickle the soft skin behind his balls. Foreplay, his hand curved around the gearstick, rubbing the smooth shaft while he idled at a traffic light.

He tucks a thumb beneath the waistband of his boxers, tugging them over his cock. It bounces jauntily once it’s freed, sticking right out from his opened jeans.

“There you go, girl,” Mark says, soft. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Mortifying, really, but Mark’s always talked to his cars. Why should it be any different now?

He cups himself in one hand, steps in close. Presses the spongy head against the unforgiving edge of the door trim, tracing the aerodynamic curves and undulations. There’s a chamois in his back pocket to clean things up after. He’s prepared.

His cock fits perfectly into the depression meant for his fingers to unlatch the door. He rubs himself against the smooth dip, jacking himself until a few droplets smear across the pristine surface. Anointment complete, he moves on to the air inlet notched above the wheel trim, pushing his cock into the small gap so hard it hurts, faintly. He’s never been afraid of the pain his cars can cause.

He’s breathing fast already, thighs shaking and hands fumbling. The perils of middle age. He’s not got quite the endurance he might once have enjoyed; less still when he’s with his favourites. He needs to be canny about it now, spend his limited pleasure only on the parts of his girl most worthy of worship.

He gets to his knees. His jeans are a bit tight for this, really, but he likes to stay fully dressed for this.

It’s a terrible angle, but if he shuffles sideways, he can rub the length of his cock, more or less, against the channel that runs along the bottom of the door. He’s come into this channel more times than he can count, watching his semen paint the deep red white.

But that’s not what he wants today.

He fumbles the condom out of his back pocket with uncooperative fingers. It’s heartbreaking, really, that he has to suit up for this bit. He’s wanked about it endlessly, imagining his seed working its way inside her, mingling with petrol and engine coolant. But he can’t risk messing up her insides, never mind the health of his own manhood.

He stands on wobbly legs, walks his way around to the back of her. She’s resplendent, open and waiting for him as he toes off his shoes.

The biggest act of sacrilege is when he climbs on top of her. Every time, he’s terrified he’s going to leave scratches, or worse. But she’s tough. She can take it. That’s why he loves her.

He’d wanted to fuck her from the minute he saw her. The twin exhaust pipes mounted on the rear assembly, three or four feet off the ground, stirred him the same way a dirty magazine would. There’s something obscene about her, holes open to the world. She wants it.

It takes a bit of awkward manoeuvring until he’s in position, but once he’s settled into place, it’s like he’s made to be on top of her. Knees nestled into her dips and curves, socked feet braced against the rear spoiler.

She’s hot inside when he slides into the waiting exhaust pipe. He breathes out, shuddery and grateful, resting his forehead against the curve of her roof. The condom is lubed, and he slips in right to the hilt without resistance, the machined edge pressing into his swollen balls.

“Oh, girl,” Mark breathes, and presses his mouth to cool metal. She tastes of wax and metal.

He moves his hips, careful, and she groans beneath him. Her suspension bounces as he fucks her.

He presses his cheek to the wet patch his mouth had left, traces her body with his hands. He fits perfectly inside her, like she was built to take him. Cold exterior, hot as any wet cunt inside, a secret space meant for him to worship.

It doesn’t last long, but she doesn’t mock him for it, doesn’t sigh and make a barbed remark. He gasps sweet nothings into her grilles, drives his hips into her as it builds and builds until he’s cresting, emptying himself inside her.

As he comes, he prays the condom snags on some poorly machined burr of steel and splits, spilling his tribute into her, but of course there isn’t, and it doesn’t. She’s too well-made for that.

[buckysdoll1520]

“No!” I yell cutting him of “you don’t get to fucking blow up on me when I come down here asking if you ok that’s not how this fucking works!” you yelled, the stress from the ordeal upstairs and now him blowing up on you like that had caused a split to start. “Y/n-”Jasper start to speak. “No fuck you!” You we’re beyond pissed, when you had a your mood could go from 0-1000 really quickly.

You turn away going to open the door that when back in to the house he tried to grab you’re arm to talk to you and turn around to yell back in response. “Don’t fucking touch me right now!” you continued through the door up the stairs going to the living room.

Once in the living room you see Esme holding Liam on her knee on the couch. “Are you alright?” Esme asked in her sweet mothery tone. “Um y-yeah I’m fine,um Esme do you think it would be alright if you watched him while I run to the dollar store really quick?” You asked rushed want to get out of the house to cool off and probably have a bit of a meltdown in the car. “Yes absolutely, take as long as you need dear” Esme said sweetly, because little know to you she and everyone else had heard your and Jaspers argument. “Ok thank you I’ll be back in a few minutes” you said as you walked down the steps to get the front door. You quickly put on your shoes and grabbing a jacket and Jasper car keys, you walked out.

Once you got in the car you turned it and plugged up your phone to the cars smart stereo. You selected your $uicideBoy$ playlist and turned up the volume until it drowned out your inner voice that kept telling you were a bad person, a bad girlfriend and a horrible mom and that you should just disappear and that jasper was probably gonna breakup with you and you would have to move out of the Cullens house and move back in with your dad and not have a car again. Soon the voice got to much and you pulled over to the side of the road and put on your flashers. You sat there for a good hour-hour and a half before stopping crying screaming/yelling and banging your hands against the steering wheel out of anger and frustration.

After completing calming down you looked at the time releasing how long you had actually been gone and started to wonder if anyone had texted,because you had put your phone on dnd. So you picked it up out of the cup holder and turned down your music a bit. When you looked at your phone you saw the Jasper had called you 15 times and text 25 text messages.

You sighed let out a whispered “fuck…FUCK!”, you put your phone back into its resting place, and begin to pull out, once you pulled out you cut off your flashers and headed to the dollar store. As you pull in to the parking lot,you to a couple deep breaths and flip your visor down to make sure you looked ok-ish. Once in the dollar store you couldn’t help but stroll into the baby section looking at all the cute onesies,toys, blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. You’re heart ached at the fact you only had 15$ in your wallet, even though Carlisle and Esme had both told you they didn’t care to pay for things for the baby, you were hesitant…only because you hated taking money and help from other people.

So you bought Liam new pack of pacifiers, a bib and a stuffed chicken. The bib was blue and had a giraffe on it, the pacifiers had stars and moons on them, and the chicken was well, a stuffed chicken. You payed for everything and headed to the car. Once you get settled in the car you headed back to the Cullens house. As you pulled in the driveway you saw Jasper was on his balcony with a sour look on his face.

When you walked the door you could hear Edward laughing at Rosalie, he always laughs at her when she baby talks with Liam. It wasn’t necessary but you announced your self “I’m home!” You yelled in a sing songy voice as you laid the keys in to the dish they rested in, and taking off your shoes and coat. Walking up the stairs you heard Liam squealing out in laughter, “hey bubby, mommy got you some stuff at the store” you said in baby voice with a smile on your face. “Has he ate yet, I left a bottle in the fridge?” You asked Esme. “Uh yeah Jasper feed him a few minutes ago” she said almost hesitated to mention his name. “Ok,um..where is Jasper?” You asked looking around not seeing him anywhere. “He’s up your guys room, he’s stayed up there for a while until Liam started crying when he got hungry.” Edward said coldly, as if I had taken too long or it was an inconvenience that Liam was here and he has gotten fussy.

“Ok, I’m gonna go talk to him about earlier. Rose do you have him?” I asked. “Yeah I’ve got him take as long as you guys need” she said with a smile.

Once you got up stairs you stared at your and jasper’s bedroom door for a good five minutes, there were a million thoughts run through you head, he’s gonna break up with you, he’s gonna yell…he could hit you like your ex used to…you felt sick, you felt bile rise in your throat, burning it. You swallowed heavily and finally knocked on the door, you heard a low “come in.” You walked in the door pressing your back against it to try and ground yourself. “Jas-” “Don’t..”he cut you off before you could even get his name out. He spoke in a rushed tone as if he was holding his voice back, he stood on the balcony looking at the sky. “Do you know how worried I was!? You were gone for over 2 hours, I thought something happened the only reason I didn’t go looking for you is because of Liam!” He finally spoke clearly but when he did it came out in a yell.

You felt tears brim you’re eyes you’re nose started to burn, and you’re throat went dry. When you went to speak the words wouldn’t form all that was a sob. It sounded as if the air was trapped in your lungs. “I-I know I’m sorry, just get it over with…please I want to go see Liam, an-and Edward is already pissed at me,cause the baby was fussy a-and I known I’m a bad girlfriend and a bad mom and I’ma-shitty p-person all around! I’m sorry just get it over with please.” You stuttered and rambled out as tears streamed down your face and as you finished your sentence you began to slide down the door and started to hyperventilate. “I know I’m a pain in the ass a-and I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I know you could do so much better, you could have someone that’s skinny and pretty like Bella o-or Alice!” When you continued on your rant Jasper’s mood changed quickly.

He rushed over to you as you sat with your back against the door banging you head against it trying to stop the yelling in your head, that little voice in your head that told you Liam deserved better, that he deserved a mother like Esme or Rosalie that was put together and had it all figured out. “Sugar look at me, please come on don’t do that you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Jasper spoke in a soft sweet tone, putting his hands behind your head to soften the blows you were giving yourself as you hit you head. “No! Why aren’t you screaming or hitting me? Get mad! Get mad at me Damnit!” you screamed through your tears. As you screamed the last part you hit his chest as hard as you could. “D-do something…tell ho-how I’m a bad mom o-or, how I’m never gonna be good enough for you, or you’re fucking perfect family!”

Sobs shook your body as jasper looked at you as if he didn’t hear you. “Look at me…please doll look at me.” He begged you as you sobbed hanging your head low, picking at the skin around your fingers. You finally shook your head, so you had left him no choice. He pulled you into his lap as he sat in the floor beside you. “Baby…I need you to look at me…please” he said softly with is thick Southern draw. Jasper sat there for what felt like an eternity, before he realized that you were shutting down. His worst nightmare was coming true he was losing you. He couldn’t lose you. He pressed pressed a firm kiss on your hair line, as he mumbled in to your hair line. “Doll please don’t shut me out. I can’t loose you y/n,I can’t” As he spoke softly you could hear his voice breaking at the end of his sentence.

Jasper sat with you straddling his thighs for almost two and a half hours. You head was against his chest, your breathing had finally calmed down. Jasper’s hands ran up and down your sides and back. You still refused to look at him. “Hey darling, you still with me?” Jasper questioned slowly stopping his hands. You shook your head in to his chest. “Alright, do you want to talk?” Jasper asked hesitantly. You shook your head,feeling tear prick your eyes once more.

Then Jaspers phone vibrated against the floor where it sat beside you both. He leaned to pick it up from its resting place. It was a message from Esme.

Esme :Liam is asleep if you want to come get him or I could bring him upstairs but if you and Y/n aren’t done talking then I keep him down here with me and Carlisle.

Jasper sat his phone back on “Do you want me to go get the baby and bring him up here or do you want to leave down there while we talk?” Jasper asked as he began running his hands down your sides again. “Can you bring him up here.” You said in a scratchy voice, from all the crying and yelling. “Ok,I’ll be right back darling,you want anything from downstairs?”

This is my teaser let me know what y’all think !

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Citroën Visa Club, 1978. The Visa was the first Citroën to share a platform with Peugeot (from the 104) after the PSA takeover . It was unusual in being available with both longitudinal and transversally mounted engines. the entry level Club used Citroën's 652cc flat twin air-cooled engine from the 2CV mounted in line. More expensive versions used Peugeot's PSA-X 4 cylinder engine mounted transversally. Also unusual was the car's dashboard with a cylindrical "satellite" with controls for wipers, washers, horn, indicators, headlamps and flashers that could be reached by the driver's fingers without moving their hand off the steering wheel.