#Car Exterior Restoration | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojipie · 1 year ago

Text

as long as trade professions exists i WILL write this man working as each and every one of them.

mechanic toji x fem reader | 2.2k words !

content: smut ! semi public (??) not sure if garage sex counts

the feeling of your shoes losing their grip nearly sends you flying as you step into the car shop lobby.

whoever was working tonight clearly had no grasp on what a wet floor sign was, opting to cover the floor in what felt like 2 feet of suds.

“oh! sorry!” suguru exclaims, extending an arm for you to hold onto. “you okay?”

“i’m ok sugu,” you tell him, feeling your anger dissipate at the sight of the shop’s newest bright-eyed apprentice.

you can practically hear him asking you not to tell his boss, eyes big like a kicked puppy.

the smile you shoot him is soft and reassuring.

suguru apologizes again, grabbing a caution sign from the supply closet.

“he’s in the garage if that’s who you’re looking for.” the apprentice adds, sending you in your husband's direction with a smile.

“toji?” you yell, scanning the 8-door garage for his telltale mop of black hair.

“on your right!” he shouts, waving an oil-stained hand in the air to flag you down. cars in varying conditions line your path as you make a beeline for your husband, following his black footprints like breadcrumbs

a 59’ impala comes into view as you weave in between the tall legs of the suspension machines. toji is crouched on the driver’s side with his back to you, fiddling with the front end of the vehicle.

“woah,” you whisper, trailing your hand over interior seats wrapped in glossy leather.

the cherry red exterior of the classic car is blinding, waxed to perfection by none other than the man in front of you

“aht, aht—hey.” toji chides, motioning for you to get your hands off the car.

“no fingerprints,” he says firmly, tossing you a rag from his equipment cart.

you quickly wipe down the headrest of the driver's seat, restoring it to its original sheen. the residue left on your hand smells like lemons, the sterile scent of carwash soap.

“you fix this up by yourself?” you ask, watching him fasten a new headlight into place. the amount of detailing was beyond impressive.

“course i did.” your husband chuckles. “can’t even trust these other guys with an oil change.”

you laugh, recalling the shop’s newest employee and your little wet floor debacle. toji reaches for the back of your calf, rubbing your leg affectionately from his spot on the floor.

“you’re the one that hires them.” you remind him.

“yeah, gotta stop doing that,” he mumbles, snorting at the way you smack his shoulder in protest.

the impala looks fresh off the conveyor belt with the amount of restoration that had been done to it. you can’t quite recall the last time you’d seen toji put this much work into a vehicle.

“what’s the story with this one?” you ask, stepping back to let your husband stand up.

navy blue coveralls come into view as toji rises from the floor, chest peeking out from where the one-piece garment is unzipped. he’s filthy, covered in motor oil and sweat. god, he looked good.

the raven-haired mechanic steps back with a cocky smile, zipping the garment down to just above his waist.

“what, like what you see?” he asks, slipping toned arms out of his uniform and tying the excess around his waist.

your mouth goes dry, eagerly taking in the way his body ripples under his black tank top.

“nah, nothing i haven’t seen before.” you tease, taking the spray bottle and cloth he holds out for you.

“right, okay.” your husband laughs, ego clearly knocked down a peg.

you’re wiping down the front windshield when he speaks again, answering your question from earlier.

“one of our regulars dropped her off a week ago, needed some help with parts,” he explains. the “her” in question being the obscenely glossy car in between the two of you.

“how’d the inside look?” you ask, strolling over to the sink. the smell of leather polish and windex gradually fades with a bit of scrubbing.

your husband scoffs, recalling the abhorrent state of the under-hood.

“fuck.. awful.” he explains, handing you a roll of paper towels. “some people don’t deserve cars like these.” he laughs, rubbing your back as you join him at the hood.

your husband fiddles with the tool cart, wheeling it closer to begin working on the tires.

“you look good tonight.” toji mumbles, leaning down to accept a kiss from you. you tug on the neck of his wifebeater just as he begins to pull away, roping him into a deeper kiss this time.

“careful.” scarred lips mumble. you feel his hand trail down your back, slipping under the waistband of your jeans and leaving just as fast.

“stop being a tease,” you tell him.

“s’ one hour till quitting time.” he says, grabbing a wrench from the cart. “can you make it, pretty girl? or do you need it right now?”

“i can wait.” you lie, not wanting to distract him from the job.

he nods, clearly not believing you.

“you remember how to get these bolts off?” he asks, handing you the wrench with a sly grin. his hulking form settles behind you as you crouch down in front of the tire he’d picked.

vintage cars like these needed a lot more manual work, not being able to withstand the force of any automated tools.

you unscrew the bolt with ease, fidgeting at the feeling of two warm hands rubbing up and down your waist.

“mhm, just like i taught you.” toji says, nosing at the curve of your neck.

you twist another one free, groaning at the feeling of scarred lips suctioning onto your neck.

“can’t focus.” you whimper, trying to wiggle free of your husband’s embrace.

“s’ not your job to focus.” he chuckles, biting the meat of your shoulder for good measure. toji takes the equipment from you and replaces the bolts with new ones, motioning for you to stand up.

you wait as he washes up in the sink, scrubbing the grime from his hands and forearms. thick hands dry themselves on his uniform, stalking over to you with a look that can only be described as lust.

“think that’s all for today,” he says, voice hinting at something much deeper.

“you’re still on the clock,” you tell him half seriously, taking note of the 45 minutes left in his shift. still, warm hands settle on your hips, backing you up against the washing station

“yeah?” he says, entertaining your jest. deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, lifting the garment off your body.

“funny how that works out.” he starts, “guess I'll have to live with getting paid to fuck you.”

your skin is on fire, prickling with every calculated brush of his hand. you lean up to kiss him again, feeling his tongue flit over your bottom lip.

“someone will hear,” you whine in between kisses.

“they know not to bring it up around me,” he says, lifting you onto the counter with ease.

toji’s zipper is next to go, stopping just under his crotch to reveal his boxers.

convenient you think, palming him through the opening in his coveralls. now that you think about it, why hadn’t you two fucked in the shop before?

scared lips peck over the tops of your covered breasts, biting down momentarily to leave a red mark.

the whine that escapes your mouth echoes throughout the spacious garage. blood rushing to your ears as embarrassment takes over.

“shhhh,” he tells you, crowding impossibly closer to muffle your sounds.

“can you stay quiet for me?” he asks, genuinely curious. a small nod is all he needs to seal your mouths in another kiss, shucking your bottoms down along with your panties to position himself in between your thighs.

you scoot to the edge of the counter, kicking off your shoes and wrapping your legs around your husband's waist. he doesn’t free himself from his boxers just yet, choosing to grind himself on your heat while you leave dark hickeys at the bottom of his neck.

“fuck.” he groans, flinching at how loud the sound echoes in the garage.

“quiet,” you whisper.

“i know, i know baby.” you watch as toji hooks a thumb into his boxers, his manhood already dripping with pre.

you pull away from your husband's neck right as he pushes in, a thin string of saliva connecting you to the dark bloom of purple your lips had left.

it’s a tight fit, but not impossible. the angle you’re at has you clenching down on the cock that’s splitting you open, squeezing him like a vice.

“fuck.” you whimper, lifting your husband’s tank top to expose his abs. toji bites the hem for you, letting you caress the dips of his toned muscles.

the distant echo of his rhythmic thrusts reverberates throughout the shop, drowning out your shared pants and groans.

“no fucking point in being quiet, huh?.” he mumbles with a smirk, taking you by surprise as thick fingers slide under your thighs and hoist you into the air.

“wait—wh-” you’re cut off as toji turns around, holding himself inside of you as he walks you over to the car.

“oh shit.” you gasp, mouth agape as you’re set down on the long hood of the impala.

your husband props his knee up on the vehicle, pummeling into you at an angle even deeper than before.

“thought you—ah- said no fingerprints.” you whimper, feeling yourself slide up the hood of the car with every thrust.

thick arms wrap around you, holding you in place while your husband ruts into you from above.

“you’re helping me wipe this thing down after.--fuck” toji says with finality, pulling you into a deep kiss with a hand cradling the back of your head.

the car continues to rock as the two of you go at it, filling the shop with noises that are beyond sinful.

“wanna ride you,” you mumble, taking in the way his eyes darken.

you’re flipped and carried up the hood of the car, the two of you now fully seated on a bed of cherry red aluminum.

toji settles into his back, satisfied with his work. he does it all without leaving your walls, cock still buried to the hilt.

“come on.” he encourages, moving you up and down his shaft with two hands around your waist. you’re practically being tossed around on his cock like you weigh nothing, panting and groaning while your walls struggle to accommodate his length.

“just how i like it, give it to me,” he tells you, leaning back on his forearms to watch where you two connect.

“gonna make me fucking cum, shit.”

you rock yourself onto your husband's dick, feeling him twitch each time you sink to the base.

“wait, wait.” you pant, smiling at the idea that just dawned on you.

you let toji slip out of you for the first time in half an hour, readjusting so your back is to him. cautiously, you reach both arms back, feeling him wrap both hands around your wrists.

“reverse cowgirl? on a fucking chevy? shit.” he chuckles, clearly impressed at your bold move. the raven-haired mechanic gathers both your wrists in one hand, using the other to guide his cock back into your heat.

the first thrust is agonizingly deep, pushing you closer to your edge. strong legs anchor themselves onto the hood of the car, steel-toed work boots leaving murky footprints.

“ah shit—like this?” toji groans, each hand holding your arms behind you at the wrist.

“want it like this? want me to ruin you?

"please." you groan, feeling your climax hit you like a tsunami.

the sound that rips out of toji is purely carnal, a long groan reverberating throughout the garage.

"fuck--oh fuck-hah" he pants, still reeling from the sensation of your walls pulsating around him.

you slowly lift off of his cock, holding onto his leg to balance. warm, viscous fluid drips down your thighs and onto the red surface beneath you. you hadn't even realized he came inside with how intense your climax was.

"fuck, look at this." the raven-haired mechanic chuckles.

the state of the car is absolutely abhorrent. obsidian footprints bleed into sweaty handprints. you'd think a game of twister went down if you didn't know any better.

"oh shit." you frown, stepping onto solid ground for the first time in half an hour.

guilt gnaws away at you at the thought of toji's hard work going to waste. this was his only form of income after all.

"hey, not a problem." he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"s' nothing some scrubbing can't fix, right?" you nod, lifting your arms to let him redress you.

navy coveralls zip back into place, covering the mess of hickeys you left on his chest.

you finally button up your jeans, frowning at a murky streak of oil across one of the legs.

"must've tossed those on the ground when I took em' off of you." he chuckles, dodging a swat from you.

You pad into the lobby first, blissfully unaware of a very disturbed sugaru sitting at the front desk.

your husband follows soon after, watching you walk into the parking lot.

“see ya, man.” the mechanic says plainly, shooting his apprentice a smug wave with a laugh.

2K notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 1 year ago

Text

Rebuilding - Derek Hale x female reader

Summary: You show Derek the rebuilt Hale House you did for him

Words: 1.8k

warnings: none really; heavy making out

Notes: I can make a smutty part two

Y/N’s POV

The old Hale House had stood as a haunting reminder of the past, a testament to the tragedy and loss the family had endured. But now, it has been transformed into something new, something hopeful. With the combined effort of the pack and my Dad, it had become a symbol of rebirth and unity, a mansion that has welcomed every member with open arms and spare rooms for new pack members.

As I stand in front of the restored mansion, I can’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Derek, who had once lived here in its glory days, deserves to see what I’ve done to the place. He’s been through so much, and I wanted this surprise to be a new beginning for him… for us hopefully.

The anticipation in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but fidget with the key in my hand as I wait for Derek. The old Hale House, bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, seems to hold its breath in eager anticipation of his arrival. And then, I hear it - the familiar purr of Derek’s car engine. It’s a sound that I’ve come to associate with his arrival, and my heart quickens in response. The car pulls down the long, winding driveway, and I keep staring at the house, my hands shaking a little as I fiddle with the keys.

Suddenly, there he is. Derek appears beside me, his tall, brooding frame casting a shadow on the gravel driveway. He looks rugged and handsome as ever, with that alluring air of mystery that has always drawn me to him. His dark brows are furrowed in curiosity and confusion, his eyes scanning the mansion before us as if he’s trying to work out where we are. It makes my heart drop as he doesn’t recognise it despite me trying to keep it as near as I can to the original Hale house.

But then, something remarkable happens. As his eyes roam over the mansion’s exterior, his brows furrow even deeper, and then there’s a hint of disbelief in his expression. It’s as if the familiarity of the place has begun to dawn on him, piece by piece. The realisation hits him like a tidal wave. His kaleidoscope eyes widen, and a gasps escapes his pretty and plump lips, “Is… is this….?” His voice trembles with emotion, and for a moment, he can’t seem to find the words.

I hold out the keys for him and he looks between the house and the keys and then back at the house, “I can’t… I… can you…” His voice falters, and it’s clear that he’s fighting back tears, the enormity of the moment almost too much to bear. Without a word, I’m nodding and reaching for his trembling hands. Our fingers interlace, and with a gentle squeeze, I lead him towards the grand entrance.

Derek’s eyes remain locked onto the mansion, his disbelief and wonder still etched across his features. But he doesn’t need to say anything more for me to understand the whirlwind of emotions storming within him.

I turn the key in the lock, my own fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. The door swings open, revealing the lovingly restored interior. The warm, golden light spills into the entryway, painting a new chapter on the old canvas of the Hale House. The grand entrance is now invitingly open, Derek taking a step forwards. His presence is so close to me that his chest is practically pressed against my back. The feel of him so near is electrifying, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Welcome home Derek.” I say, my voice a soft, heartfelt whisper, as we cross the threshold together.

The atmosphere inside is a mixture of nostalgia and fresh beginnings. The original features of the Hale House have been preserved, the hardwood floors polished, the walls adorned with artworks from the pack. The spaciousness of the rooms has been maintained, yet there’s a sense of cozy warmth that wasn’t there before.

Derek’s gaze dances the space, a mixture of awe and sentimentality reflected in his expressive eyes. He appreciates the care and attention that went into preserving the essence of the house he called home.

Then, he grabs my hands again with a gentle yet firm grip, leading me through the echoing halls as the pack gave us the house for Derek to see alone. It’s a touch that sends a rush of warmth through me, the electricity of his touch palatable. We move through the house, our footsteps echoing, and Derek’s strides confident, as if he’s revisiting his own memories.

As we ender the kitchen, Derek stops in his tracks. A soft, almost reverent sound escapes him, and his eyes widen again as he takes in the layout. It’s practically identical to the original Hale House kitchen, meticulously restored to match his recollections with the help of creepy uncle Peter.

His grip on my hand tightens, and he turns to me, his expression filled with amazement, “This… it’s just like I remember it.” He says, his vice soft and filed with wonder, “You’ve brought it all back to life.”

I can’t help but smile at his reaction. The kitchen holds countless memories for him, both happy and bittersweet, and seeing it so faithfully restored means the world to him. "We wanted it to feel like home," I reply, my voice equally hushed, knowing how much this place means to him. Derek’s thumb brushes over the back of my hand, his touch conveying the depth of his gratitude. It’s a silent exchange of emotions, the unspoken understanding between us.

And then, something changes in the air. Derek turns to me, his kaleidoscope eyes now shining with warmth and something else, something that sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. His gaze flits down my lips, and in response, I can’t help but wet them with my tongue, suddenly feeling acutely aware of their dryness. It draws a small sound from Derek’s throat, low and almost involuntary, a testament to the magnetic pull between us. He leans in, closing the distance between our lips with a purposeful intent. Our mouths meet in a soft, longing kiss, a silent declaration of the emotions that have simmered between us for so long.

His lips are soft yet insistent, moving against mine with a deliberate tenderness. I can feel the gentle, rhythmic movement of his mouth, each touch setting my heart racing. There’s a hint of urgency in his kiss, a desire that has been simmering just beneath the surface. Derek’s hands finding their way to my waist, holding e close as if he never wants to let me go. The touch of his fingertips against my skin sends shivers down my spine, and I press my body closer to his, wanting to feel every inch of him.

My own hands move to rest on his chest, feeling the solid warmth of his body beneath my touch. They gradually work their way up, entwining in his shirt, wanting to pull him closer still. The connection between us deepens with every passing second, a silent confirmation of the emotions we’ve held back fr so long.

Derek’s hands, which had been gently holding my waist, suddenly tighten their grip and before I can react, he’s lifting me up with a powerful yet careful motion. My legs instinctively wrap around this waist as he sets me on the edge of the kitchen island, never once breaking the kiss.

Our lips remain locked in a heated embrace, a heated embrace, a testament to the fiery passion that's been ignited between us. Derek's tongue brushes over my lips, seeking entrance, and without hesitation, I part them, with a small, embracing sound escaping my lips which he swallows, tongue slipping past my lips. It's a dance of desire, a clash of longing, and a melding of two souls that have been drawn together by an irresistible force. Our mouths move with a shared urgency, each kiss deeper and more consuming than the last.

As our tongues explore and intertwine, Derek’s grip on my hips tightens, pulling me closer until I’m arched on the edge of the kitchen island. The sensation of his body pressed against mine is electrifying, sending heat down south where I’m pressed against his growing problem. It has my thighs tightening around him, hips jerking a little and drawing sounds from both of us.

Finally our lips part, but only slightly, our foreheads resting against each other as we catch our breath. Derek’s voice is a husky whisper, filled with raw desire, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He confesses, his words heavy with yearning, “ I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

My heart flutters at his admission, and I look into his kaleidoscope eyes, my own filled with the same longing, “Der…” I breathe, “I’ve felt the same way. I’ve wanted this as much as you have.”

His lips find mine again, and the kiss that follows is fierce and fervent, a passionate culmination of our unspoken desires. It's a promise, a declaration, and a celebration of the love that has finally been acknowledged.

But then, Derek's lips trail down from mine to my neck, and his kisses ignite a trail of fire across my skin. I gasp as his mouth leaves a mark, a fervent, possessive hickey, and another one right beside it. Each one is a silent proclamation of his desire, a mark of his longing for me. As Derek's kisses continue to trail down my neck, I gasp and my fingers clutch at his shoulders. The sensation is almost too much to bear, the heat of his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my skin, marked by possessive hickeys.

“Y/N,” He murmurs breathlessly voice heavy with desire, “If we don’t stop, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He pulls away slightly, his eyes dark and smouldering now and he lets out a low and sensual chuckle when an embarrassing moan escapes me.

“Maybe…” I have to clear my throat, “Maybe we should check out your room.” My heart is racing as I say it, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and desire, eager to hear his response but also somewhat ready for the rejection.

Instead, he groans, head falling to my shoulder before he growls out, “Don’t… don’t say things like that baby girl.” I stay silent, knowing there’s more and he kissing my collarbone sweetly before murmuring, “But, I think it’s a very, very good idea.”

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

Teen Wolf Masterlist

TAGS

@bellabadacadabra

1K notes · View notes

thegatesofsilverandbone · 2 months ago

Text

Sophie had always been drawn to things with a history. Whether it was second-hand furniture or vintage clothes, she loved anything with a story behind it. So when she saw the listing for an old blue truck at an estate sale, she couldn’t resist. It was beat up and worn, but that just meant it had character. It felt like more than just a car; it was something with a past, and now it was hers.

After scraping together enough cash from her summer jobs, she bought it. It was her first car, and though the exterior had clearly seen better days, she felt proud driving it. This truck was going to be her companion on adventures, her ticket to freedom.

Curiosity led her to start exploring the truck as soon as she climbed into the driver's seat. She adjusted her oversized t-shirt—an old comfy one she’d thrown on—and opened the glove box, hoping to find some old paperwork or maybe a forgotten receipt. Her fingers brushed against something metal, and she pulled out a simple, tarnished chain necklace. It was an odd find, but intriguing nonetheless. Without thinking much of it, she slipped it around her neck, the cool metal brushing against her skin.

Suddenly, a tingling sensation spread from her chest and radiated through her body. Her breath hitched as her reflection in the rearview mirror shifted before her eyes. The young woman staring back at her began to change, her features subtly morphing.

Her hands were the first to change, her delicate fingers thickening and roughening, her nails taking on a chipped, unpolished look as if they had seen years of hard work. She watched in astonishment as her slim arms grew more muscular, the once soft skin darkening with a fine layer of hair. Her biceps swelled, stretching the fabric of her t-shirt, and the soft lines of her youthful form hardened into the build of a man in his prime.

Her chest expanded, muscles tightening beneath the shirt, but what caught her attention most was the hair—a thick mat of chest hair sprouted where her skin had once been smooth, rising up toward her collar. The t-shirt she wore now clung to her changing frame, the neckline dipping lower as her body became more masculine, more rugged.

Her legs followed, her slim thighs and smooth skin now bulking up, becoming more powerful, covered in a dense layer of hair. Her cut-off shorts, once feminine and cute, now looked different against the thicker, stronger legs of a man.

Sophie’s face began to shift next. Her jawline squared, her cheeks filling out with the weight of years she hadn’t lived. Dark stubble spread over her chin and cheeks, quickly growing into a full beard. Her eyes, once wide with youth, now held the depth and confidence of someone who had lived a long life. Her reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable.

And yet, as her body transformed, so did her mind. Her memories as Sophie started to blur, fading away like a dream forgotten upon waking. She no longer remembered what it felt like to be Sophie. Instead, her mind filled with the experiences of someone else entirely.

She was Matt now—had always been Matt, hadn’t she? He blinked, the confusion settling as his memories clicked into place. He remembered this truck—his truck. He’d been working on it for years, taking it out on road trips, fixing it up, and restoring it. The necklace on his chest felt familiar, a small trinket that had always been with him, a lucky charm from a friend.

He scratched his beard, his strong, calloused fingers brushing over the hair that had become so familiar. He chuckled to himself, wondering why he had been sitting there, daydreaming about something so strange. After all, he had somewhere to be. His boyfriend was waiting, and Matt had promised to pick him up for their date.

Shifting in the seat, Matt adjusted his t-shirt—it was a simple, comfortable one, much like the one he had always worn on casual days like this. His muscular chest pressed against the fabric, and his shorts rode up slightly as he shifted his weight in the driver’s seat.

With a deep breath, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life beneath him. The truck, worn and well-loved, felt like an extension of himself. His hands, rough and familiar, gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, ready to head out for a night with the man he loved.

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the landscape as Matt drove, a calm smile on his lips. The life he remembered as Sophie had faded into nothing, replaced by the confident, comfortable existence of Matt, a man who knew exactly who he was and where he belonged.

As he drove toward his boyfriend’s house, the world around him felt just right. He’d always been Matt, after all—a man with a loving partner, a life full of adventure, and a truck that had been with him through it all.

#transformation #ai art

56 notes · View notes

startrekfangirl2233-writes · 2 years ago

Note

Starrrrr, my babe! Congrats on your 100 followers, that is amazing! You are amazing! IT'S ALL SO AMAZING! Happy squirrel and fellow CCS here. My request---Bradley (because DUH, it's me!), and a fluffy “You’re beautiful, you know that right?” moment because I'm feral over the idea of this man speaking these words to me. <3

Meer, my darling! Here's the fluffy Bradley Bradshaw fic you requested! Enjoy! This "You’re beautiful, you know that right?" moment is brought to you by the 1966 Ford Bronco MT drove in his first TG:M scene! 🥰 😘

The Mechanic

Cars. You love them. You also hate that you love them as much as you do. You’d taken over your grandfather’s small auto repair shop three years ago when the stress was too much for his body. Since then, you’ve been finding grease in places grease definitely should not be while slowly building your reputation amongst the car collectors in the greater San Diego area. You’re half under a mint-green Chevrolet Bel Air when you hear a car roll up into the shop’s lot. The engine sounds pretty good and you can hear the faint strands of music pouring out of the cab before it stops. Whoever it is will talk to your Grandad first.

Despite his ailing bones, and his trust in your abilities, your Grandad had still wanted to be involved with the shop. So the two of you had compromised. You’d do the work while your Grandad ran the front of the house. That way he could still talk to your customers about their vehicles without stressing himself out by trying to move heavy car parts. And, your grandma had shared in secret a few weeks after the arrangement started, that it got him out of the house and out of her hair!

It helped too, that your Grandad still had all of his contacts in the collectible car community. They were a godsend when you were looking for rare parts. The Bel Air, for instance that you’re under? You’d needed to source and build the entire engine from scratch and restore the exterior. The beautiful car had been rusting away in an old barn for years before the owners unearthed it and decided it needed to be restored. It was finally nearly complete and the engine purred like a kitten now that you’ve gotten it all hooked up. You are completing your final checks on the undercarriage when you feel a knock against your work boot.

You roll out from under the truck to see your Grandad and what has to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

“Hey, kiddo. This here is Bradley Bradshaw. He’s got a 1966 Ford Bronco which he’d like to get fully restored. Bradley, this is my granddaughter. She does the actual hard work around this place.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him. He’s wearing a garish Hawaiian print shirt over a white singlet, slim-fitting jeans and boots. He’s got a pair of aviators hanging from the neck and his arms are crossed against his chest, biceps bulging alluringly. He’s so clean that it has you reaching for the rag scrunched into your pocket so you can wipe as much grease from your hands as possible.

You proffer your slightly cleaner hand at him with a sigh, introducing yourself by name this time.

“It’s nice to meet you. A ‘66 Bronco?” You whistle through your teeth at the thought. “Do you have it here with you? I’d love to take a look under the hood first. Then we can discuss what you’d like restored and how.”

“Sure. I drove it here today.” His voice is smooth and a little raspy. If you weren’t covered in grease and other unmentionable vehicle fluids you’d have swooned into his arms.

“Great! Bring it to the lift to the right. And we’ll get her hooked and take a look.” You’re smiling your best customer service smile and trying your best to hide the way you’re drooling at the sight of his ass when your Grandad elbows you.

“Kiddo. Keep your eyes on the prize. He’s a good man. But only once you’ve fixed the car. You know the first rule.” His voice is gruff and chiding as he squeezes your fingers.

“Yeah, gramps, don’t get distracted by the clients.” Your voice in turn is dismayed and small at the admonishment.

Neither of you can calm your joy when he pulls the car up to the lift, though. It’s a gorgeous machine, cobalt blue paint glistening in the late afternoon sun.

“She’s beautiful, kiddo. Have fun!” Waving over his head, your grandfather retreats to the air conditioned office again.

“He’s right.” Your voice is reverent as you trace the sleek curves of the car. “Can I pop the hood, Bradshaw?”

At his nod, you prop the hood open, and take a look at the engine. It’s in way better repair than you would have expected. There are a few parts here and there which don’t look like originals, but on the whole, your auditory assessment from earlier holds up. This is a well taken care of car.

“Not bad, Bradshaw. Most of this engine is original?” You’re completely in mechanic mode as you grab a clipboard and start jotting down notes.

“Yeah, this car was my dad’s. He bought it before I was born and kept it in mint condition until he died. My mom took over at that point and then when I could drive, I did the same. Obviously she’s needed a couple of replacements and ‘66 Bronco parts in good condition are hard to find.” His face is soft and sad as he looks down at the engine. This car is important to him. You’re already resolved to track down as many parts as you can. And that’s what you and Bradley Bradshaw agree to; you’ll restore the Bronco and track down as many original parts as you can.

It takes you upwards of a year to finish the project. You’ve never felt so connected to a vehicle or its history. It’s become normal for Bradley Bradshaw to pop into the shop on his days off and to just hang out by the Bronco chatting with you as you and your staff work away. It’s harder and harder for you to keep your Grandad’s first rule. But you’re not distracted. You’re falling head over heels for the gorgeous, sweet, bear of a man with such an attachment to an old truck.

Things boil to a fever pitch the day you finally fit in the final part of the car. Bradley Bradshaw has been on a ship for the better part of the past 3 months. Your chats about the Bronco have been taking place over video call and you’re not expecting to see him for two weeks. You’re just about to close the hood and start her up when you hear a voice that makes your heart skip a beat.

“That’s one beautiful car, doll.” You can feel the heat in your face at the endearment as you whip around. Sure enough, it’s Bradley Bradshaw clad in his khaki uniform.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Want to start her up?” Your smile is soft as you see the joy in his face as you toss him the keys. He’s grinning boyish and sweetly at you as he hefts his body into the front seat and turns the key. Your breath is bated as you hear the engine turn over before it finally catches. Your gasp of relief at the purring motor is shadowed only by the whoop of pure glee that pours from his mouth.

“Doll! You did it! My dad’s car! It’s perfect!” You’re smiling too when he bounces up to you and holds his hand out. You can sense an unbridled energy coursing through his veins at the thought of taking the car for a spin. But things are quiet between you as he settles the bill in the office and you go about freeing the car from your work area. It’s not until he’s pulled out into the parking lot that you hear his voice again.

“Hey, doll! Now that I’m no longer a client, I need to tell you something.” His eyes glimmer in the sunlight as he looks at you. “You’re beautiful, you know that right? Let me take you out to dinner?”

“I’m covered in grease right now, Bradshaw! If you think I’m beautiful now, let me know what you think when I’m all cleaned up!” Your voice is teasing as he winks at you.

“I’ll think you’re absolutely beautiful no matter what. The Bronco and I will pick you up on Friday at 6 pm. No grease included. Bye, doll!”

Your smile is giddy and disbelieving as you watch the most gorgeous car you've ever worked on and its owner drive off into the sunset. Friday night is going to be a lot of fun.

Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!

- XOXO Star

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #100 follower celebration #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader

146 notes · View notes

outcastpack · 1 year ago

Text

I wanna drown in an ocean of you.

The birthday present moodboard

I'm also using this as a mini celebration for 200 followers because I only just realised I had hit it 😅🤣

Theo entered the garage, following Jenna in as she turns the lights on.

The women immediately went ahead to start routing through the boxes that surrounded the room to begin looking for the photo albums, but Theo's attention was pulled towards something else, in the centre of the garage sat a large sheet covering something- specifically a car if the outline was anything to go by.

"Whats that?" He asks Jenna, pointing at the covered vehicle when she turns to face him. The women instantly looks at the car fondly. "That was my father's car before he passed it on to me." Jenna stands to her feet moving towards the vehicle motioning for Theo to help her.

Together they pull the sheet off the vehicle. Theo's eyes widen as the car is revealed.

A 1970s Ford Mustang.

The vehicle is in definite need of repair and restoration. His eyes skimming over the cars black exterior.

Jenna has moved. Walking along the car stroking her hand over the hood. "I used to drive this car everywhere, even Liam grew up with me driving it." Theo moves along the car looking through the drivers door window.

As expected the interior was in need of help. New seats needed and potentially a new steering wheel not even counting if the car would even start up.

"I wanted to pass it on to Liam one day, but the old girl was damaged and her parts are hard to come by, if not impossible. " Jenna is motioning towards the front of the car now where the front bumper and hood were damaged leading up to the passenger side.

"I couldn't bare the thought of being rid of her though. She was my own father's and is one of the last things I have of him." Jenna’s voice cracks a little as she speaks. Theo turns back to face Jenna seeing the slight wetness in her eyes as she reminisces over the vehicle.

"Does it start?" He asks her. Eyeing the car with interest. A small idea forming in his head.

Jenna turns towards the wall where a rack of keys hangs off it. Pulling out a set and motioning towards the vehicle. She opens the drivers door- ignoring the dust that comes away.

She puts the key in the ignition turning it to try and start the vehicle.

Nothing happens

She tries again- and again.

The engine roars a little before dieing, immediately shutting off.

The women sighs climbing out. Eyeing the vehicle with sadness. "She has been sat here for years now." She sighs sounding a little dejected turning put the key back on the rack.

Theo reachs out, taking the key slowly out her hands. Walking around the car.

Theo stays silent as his gaze returns solely back to the car.

He imagines a younger Jenna driving the car for the first time, to a young Liam sat on her knee holding the wheel while he tries to reach the peddles.

He imagines a 19 year old Liam driving this car.

It being parked outside the beach house or Theo's apartment next to Theo's own truck.

A checklist forming in his head over what the car needs.

New bumper and hood, the interior needing to be restored, issue with the engine needing to be fixed, potentially a full replacement of it, and the exterior needing a complete respray to make it look new along with other things.

Jenna was right. Parts like what it would need would be rare to come by.

Luckily Theo knew just the man that had the contacts they would need. Who had restored other older models before. Theo was sure with his dad's helped, they could both get the Mustang running again.

Theo smiles at Jenna, tapping his hand along the top of the car. "I'm gonna need to borrow her for awhile." The women eyes her sons boyfriend with confusion while Theo's grin just widens.

#teen wolf #theo raeken #liam dunbar #thiam #thiam fic #liams birthday present moodboard #thiam moodboard #thiam as jasher #i wanna drown in an ocean of you fic #also mini celebration of 200 followers (even if most are from my tw characters on twt series)

70 notes · View notes

hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years ago

Photo

Look at the columns and millwork on the porch, alone of this 1907 Queen Anne Revival in Manhattan Beach, California. It has 5bds. 2.5ba., and is listed for $3.749M.

Amazing. Look at this large entrance hall with a sofa-sized bench seat. The wainscoting and millwork are stunning.

Front sitting room and parlor and separated by double pocket doors.

Purple stained glass window.

Beautiful dental molding.

I love the kitchen so much- the tile and vintage stove that was adapted! The cabinets are the perfect choice. I wonder if the Hoosier cabinet conveys. I always wanted one of those.

Beautiful pantry. I wonder if that’s a dumb waiter.

Nice roomy guest powder room.

Look at the built-in in this dining room, and the door. This is fabulous.

Stairs leading to the bds.

Either one of these bds. can be the main one.

Isn’t this vintage bath fabulously reno’d? This is how you do it.

Linen closet in the hallway.

This room is being used as a home office.

Cute bedroom.

Large finished attic with a bath.

Look at this cute little terrace.

It doesn’t have much land, but the yard is adequate, and it does have a 3 car garage.

There are rooms above the garage, also.

Exterior details.

The porch is just so pretty. This home was expertly restored.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1639-3rd-St-Manhattan-Beach-CA-90266/20413476_zpid/

#queen anne revival #queen anne architecture #victorian renovation #houses #old house dreams #house tours #home tour #long post

238 notes · View notes

rain-dom · 6 months ago

Text

Touhou: The Origins of Reimu Hakurei. [MtF]

Splash! A wave of water fell over Ethan, as a car went by.

“Ugh! Shit!” he groaned. “Of course, the universe just has to remind me how much my life sucks today, of all days.”

He wiped the water from his eyes and continued to drag himself home. Ethan, a young Japanese-American man aged twenty-one, found work at an automotive company, but due to a global recession, he was let go. Born in the States, he wanted to reside in Japan for a time to get in touch with his culture, and to jump start his career in marketing and sales. He had dreams of being on top of the world - living in lavish luxury, on top of the world in tall, gleaming skyscrapers, and being among the richest suits-and-ties.

But now, like his dreams, his black suit, black vest and gray tie were all soaking wet, and had nowhere to go. He couldn’t stay here - he didn’t have much of a family to connect to, after his parents had cut ties with them a few decades earlier - and he couldn’t go back to the U.S., even if he wanted to, due to being flat broke. And he would feel ashamed if he had to move in with his folks again, so he was pretty much all alone.

As he walked home, however, he remembered there was a place in a nearby forest he liked to visit. There was an old, abandoned shrine, which sat in the center of some beautiful cherry blossom trees. He decided he should go there and let his stresses melt away, at least for a little while.

He turned left and crossed the street, making sure there were no more annoying cars greeting home with puddles of water. He took a nice, long stroll through the forest, until he finally reached the shrine. It was old and worn down, the cracks in the wood showing its age. Though luckily, it still stood well enough. Ethan dropped his suitcase and sat down on its steps and let out a heavy sigh, as he looked up to the sky. It was covered by dark, gray clouds, reminders or the rainstorm that had just passed by earlier that day. The clouds were darker now, signaling that the end of the day was at hand. Ethan then dozed off to sleep, allowing himself let go of the stresses of his dull, gray life.

The next morning, Ethan awoke to something warm that danced on his face, as if a ray of light that beamed down on him. He blinked himself awake and got up, and yawned. He looked up once again, noticing the sky had changed significantly this time. Unlike yesterday, in which a storm had rolled in, bringing with it dark, stormy clouds and heavy rain, today the clouds had receded into light puffs of smoke painted across the light blue sky. As a matter of fact, as he looked around, the was something different about the entire area - the shrine itself seemed to have had been fully restored to its former glory, its wooden exterior and roof was fully intact, with no dings of damage. The stone path leading to it no longer was covered in bushes and twigs - it now was fully restored as well, with there now being a clear stone path. Ethan’s eyes widened as he observed his new surroundings.

“Holy shit…did someone just renovate this place overnight? This must be a dream, right?” He toured the updated shrine; the rooms - once desolate and barren - now looked as if they were occupied just this morning - a bed was made, with a white cup of warm tea next two it, complete with steam brewing off it. He took a sip. “Mmm…this is great! God, I needed this…” He sat the tea down and went back outside and stepped onto the porch, and took a breath of the fresh air. He smiled. He like that this old, forgotten place somehow returned to its glory.

Then he remembered - he had to go home.

“Goddammit! It’s a shame I’ll have to leave here and go back to my house, and deal with…god, everything. What I would give to just relax and drink tea at this beautiful shrine. Sigh I wish I could stay at this place forever…”

Then, almost as soon as he said those words, he started to feel hot as he felt his body shake and tremble beyond his control. He could hear his bones begin to crack under the pressure, though he didn’t feel any pain, just discomfort and heat. His shoulders began to push in, as his height decreased with them. He saw as the world around him seemed to be growing around him, but in reality, *he* was the one who was shrinking.

“Nngh…ugh…wh-what the fuck is- gah!” Ethan exclaimed, as he felt his hips push out, and his waist starting to curve inwards. His hands shrunk and became daintier, his arms and legs shrunk in length and muscle (not that he had much of that, anyway). It felt like his entire body - inside and out - were being massaged, itched, broken, and remolded into something almost foreign to him.

But, as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Huffing and puffing, he ripped off his suit, vest, and tie, and stripped himself down to his boxers. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Coated in sweat, his body had gone through some significant changes - he was smaller for one, his shoulders and waist had narrowed, and his arms and legs were shorter and more petite, too.

“Huff, hah What…what is this? What’s hah hah h-happening to me?!” He barely noticed that by now that his skin was softer to the touch, his body hair had all but evaporated, his voice had jumped at few octaves higher, his short brown hair had grown slightly longer, and that his face had become more androgynous. In between deep breaths, it was starting to become obvious to him now - he could no her deny it. He was becoming-

“…a girl? Hah hah I’m…I’m turning into a girl?!How is this even possible—AH!”

His conclusion, which was coated with fear and confusion on one hand, and curiosity and excitement on the other, was interrupted by an alien sensation residing in his chest.

Then, it started again.

Power, heat and energy ripped through his increasingly feminine body, begging it to change even further. Two lumps of fat began to push out of his chest, creating sensations Ethan has never felt before. He fell to his knees, moaning, letting his new girls blossom forth, as they replaced his flat chest, expanding into small A cups.

“Oh, god this feels…ah …sooo, good!” Ethan exclaimed as he let his hands massage his new assets in circular motions, feeling how sensitive they were becoming, helping them grow to modest B cups.

“Agh! Ewgh! Gah!”Ethan groaned as brought his hands to his face, clenching his teeth together as his face crunched and contorted, as his body worked to give him a less defined jaw line, a smaller nose, and bigger eyes, erasing the last major marks of his masculine face. This also had consequences for his neck; becoming thinner, while his voice finally completely gave way, becoming high pitched and undeniably feminine, as his Adam’s apple disappeared without a trace.

“Hah, hah…ngh…what’s that feeling i-in my — AHH!!” Falling now on all fours, he moaned as his ass started to grow, his thighs becoming softer and thicker, and becoming slightly more plump.

”Mmn…yess…” Ethan said as his messy brown hair grew longer darker, and softer over his face, his shoulders, and finally his back, becoming a dark brown. He rolled over on his back, pushing his new, soft silky hair out of his eyes.

The final changes were being finalized — his thighs and ass grew to their final size, his waist narrowed in one last time, adding slight but noticeable abs to his belly.

Ethan looked down at his body, still overflowing with this essence, this power. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing or feeling, but he couldn’t deny that it felt so good, so rejuvenating.

Now, there was one last thing that need to change. And although he knew what change was coming, he didn’t know what feelings would come with it, nor how intense those feelings would be.

Ethan quickly pushed off his boxers - which barely even hugged his feminine frame at this point - already panting and moaning as he spread his legs wide open, already anticipating the arrival of his womanhood. His dick and balls - which were noticeably smaller than before the changes started - started to shrink. Ethan almost absentmindedly wrapped his now-feminine hand around his cock, and stroke his shrinking member, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, as the new, strong, unapologetic feelings burst from his crotch. His penis - erect and hard from the changes her that had taken place before - twitched and morphed, as if trying to salvage itself form the inevitable, but to no avail. As a new slit formed underneath his ballsack, his balls shrunk one last time, then went inside, becoming his new ovaries. His penis pathetically came one last time, then gurgled as it, too, was pushed inside by his body, becoming a tiny but sensitive clit instead. Ethan opened his eyes and looked at where his dick and balls once were, although now there was only a slit, with a clit at the top of it, just barely sticking out. His fingers on his right hand were coated in both his old cum - sticky and white- and his new cum - slimy and clear.

He was wet.

And he wanted more.

Something was stirring between his legs, the remaining heat and tension from the transformation rushed to his new equipment. It felt as if his vagina was emanating, pulsing with life, begging him to give in to his new body.

And he couldn’t resist the blossoming flower between his legs.

With trembling hands, Ethan touched his slit - he felt his entire body shudder and shiver. He immediately succumbed to the waves of pleasure that glowed in his crotch. At thing point, he started to slowly finger himself, pushing his fingers in and out of his vagina. This action slowly accelerated, his desire, his heat, rose all throughout his body the faster he went, wanting, no, needing to get that last bit of heat out of his system.

Ahh…ahhh!! Yess!!” He moaned, as he fingered himself faster and faster, enjoying the waves of pleasure coming over him.

Then, his eyes widened, and he let out a gasp.

He was almost there.

Faster and faster he went, his mind being completely overtaken by the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. Sweat reigned supreme over his skin, as warm, panting breaths of a girl in heat escaped Ethan’s lips. This heat, this power, it kept rising, higher and higher, faster and faster, until-

AAAaaahnn!!!” Ethan finally let out on last series of loud, unapologetic moans as his new body arched upwards, squirting cum all over the wooden porch, and his inner thighs. He took his hand and tasted his new cum in his mouth, savoring the taste of his new equipment.

Afterwards, he settled down and closed his eyes. Satisfied, he wore a smile on his face, letting himself rest once again after his hard work was done. He ran his hands all over his new body; him feminine face, and his soft boobs and skin. He sighed and chuckled at his new form, overflowing with relief.

Until he fully realized what had just transpired.

“Wait - h-holy shit! I’m a girl?? H-how…why- what the fuck? He said as he jumped to his feet. He looked around at not only his body, but also at the mess he had made on the porch. “Did…did I actually enjoy this? Oh…oh god…”

“Oh, my…seems like you had a lot of fun, hm?” An unfamiliar voice said behind him.

“A-ah!” Ethan yelped. He covered his mouth, still not used to the voice he was carrying. Then, he covered up his chest and crotch with his clothes, and looked up to the woman that appeared before him.

“Oh, shit! I-I wasn’t doing anything! I’m not here to cause any trouble-“

“Oh, you’re certainly not here to cause trouble, shrine maiden. Quite the opposite, in fact.” The lady smiled smugly and giggled. She wore a long flowing pink and purple dress, and had long blonde hair that flowed under her pink mob cap.

“Shrine maiden? What…what are you talking about? I’m not-“

“Ah, but you are! Ever since you stumbled into this shrine and wished to reside here forever, you were destined to become the shrine maiden - the girl that keeps the peace between all beings, human, youkai, or otherwise, in the land of gensokyo.”

“But I’m not a girl *or* the shrine maiden!”

“Says the one who was just pleasuring herself without a care in the world just a few moments ago.”

Ethan blushed, twirling a lock of his hair with his finger. “L-look, can you just get me out of here? Send me back to the outside world with my old body?”

“Oh, but that’s not how this works, I’m afraid. Although I could teleport you back to your world…no, that would be too boring. And I can’t turn you back into your former self - you wished for this to happen, deep down, after all.”

Speaking of which, your old stuffy clothes don’t fit you anymore, so I ll be taking those.”

She took Ethan’s suit and tie out of her hands and took them with her into her portal, as if they never even existed.

“H-hey! Those are my clothes!” Ethan stammered as he covered up his chest and crotch with his hands.

“I have some clothes that suit you far better. Try them on, I’m sure you’ll like them.” She said smugly.

The strange woman disappeared as she opened a new portal, and Ethan’s apparent new clothes appeared.

“This lady, I swear-“, he muttered under his breath.

Having nothing else on hand to wear, he begrudgingly put them on, which included: a sarashi that covered up his breasts, a red skirt, a red bow, and a sleeveless red top that showed off his midriff and armpits.

After putting everything on, he looked down at the clothes that hugged his body.

His heart skipped a beat, his face turning red.

“O-oh wow…you know, I…I don’t look so bad, I guess.” He said as he tugged at the edges of his skirt, and got a closer look as to how his new clothes fit with his new assets. “As a matter of fact, I do look kinda…cute.”

“See?” The strange lady said as she reappeared behind her again. “Isn’t this so much better than before?”

Ethan nodded, still in awe of the fact that he even took a liking to this new form.

“Now…do you still want to go back to your old, miserable life, in desperate search of fulfillment? Or, would you like to stay here and complete your true task - the task of the shrine maiden, as Reimu Hakurei?”

“I…I…”

“You will make so many friends and so many wonderful memories here, resolving incidents of all kinds - and living in color rather than living in eternal gray. And, of course, you will be paid with donations at the shrine - you will no longer have to worry about running out of those silly human currencies ever again. And when you’re not solving incidents, you would be able to drink tea and relax as much as you please. Now - how does that sound?”

Ethan thought for a moment - he don’t have have in the way of friends, his career wasn’t going anywhere, and he would rather be homeless than return to his parent’s place again. He wanted to start all over again, and in this weird place, he could do just that, as Reimu Hakerei. Not only that, he was really starting to come around to living his life as a girl, especially since the transformation let him - now her - see a side of herself she never gave much thought about before.

“Wait, then…if I’m going to stay here, what am I going to say when I introduce myself - I don’t want people to know who I am - er, used to be.

“We’ll just say that you’re were an orphan, for now, unless you so choose to talk about your past.”

“Hm…I guess we can work out those details later, huh?” Ethan said.

The lady chuckled. ��I suppose”, she said as she opened her portal. “There seems to be an incident currently taking place at a certain Scarlet Devil Mansion. To find it, follow the red mist.” Before she left, she stopped and added, “Oh, and before I forget, my name is Yukari Yakumo.” She then disappeared without a trace.

A bewildered Reimu was about to pester this “Yukari” lady some more, until she looked up at the sky. Dark red mist was slowly enveloping the blue sky that she adored, coming form some place she couldn’t see.

“An incident already?? Well, I better get on it, than.” Ethan, now the soon-to-be legendary shrine maiden Reimu Hakurei, accepted her new role in this strange new world. She took out her purification rod, and, after a few attempts of trial and error, she started to fly towards the red mist, looking forward to solving her first incident.

#mtf transformation #gender transformation #transformation #genderbend #tgtransformation #tg story #tgcaptions #tgtf #touhou #reimu hakurei

16 notes · View notes