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sports-on-sundays · 11 hours ago

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McLaren hat / OP81

Summary: Oscar x girlfriend!reader - You never realised how much pressure would come from simply being a Formula 1 WAG, and start to go a little bonkers with all the PR.

Warnings: I don't remember if Abu Dhabi was hot this season (probably like wasn't at all) but just pretend it was okay?, stress, kind of low self image, anxiety, taking great lengths just to feel accepted

Requested?: No

"Hey Y/n- whoa." As soon as Oscar looks up from his phone at you, his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

You watch as he looks you over, and immediately say, "Does it look alright?"

"Does it look alright?!" Oscar asks, standing up right away to be in front of you. "Y/n, you look gorgeous." He steps closer, taking your hands, looking at your tight, short black dress, leather boots, and (of course) the McLaren hat upon your head.

"You sure?"

"What do you mean, 'you sure?'?! Of course I'm sure!" he says with a little smile, his eyes returning back to your gaze. "But what made you decide to dress like a model today, anyway?"

You smile softly, glancing away, feeling comforted by his validation, before saying with a little shrug, "I don't know. Just felt like it." Most of the time, you just wear casual clothes: a McLaren shirt and hat, white jeans, and maybe sunglasses. So you can get how Oscar would be so shocked. You suppose you just weren't expecting this much of a reaction.

He brushes your cheek, saying, "You did your makeup differently, too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... is it too much?"

"Not at all. It's bold, but I like it."

You nod with a little relieved sigh. "You sure?"

He nods confidently. "Positive."

"Oh, good," another little smile creeps up on your face. "That's good to hear. Well, I guess I should leave you to your duties now, Oscar. See you later!" you begin to turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs your hand to pull you back.

He gives you a quick kiss on your cheek and mutters, "Have fun, beautiful," before letting go of your hand again and letting you walk off.

"Oh! Oscar! Don't you think I would look pretty in this...?" you ask excitedly, tugging his hand, holding up a top on a clothes hanger. It's been two hours already of you dragging Oscar from store to store, buying and trying on clothes, simply because you wanted to apparently 'get more nice clothes to wear to F1 races,' and Oscar hasn't had the heart yet to suggest finishing up.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think you would..." he says, a bit distant, before snapping back into it and saying, "But red's not really your color. Not that you don't look good in it. You look good in everything you wear. I'm just saying-"

"No, no, I get it... I just remember Alex wearing something like this..."

"Alex?" Oscar asks, confused. "Alex who?"

"Oh, you know. Alexandra," when he just proceeds to look even more confused, you add, "Charles's girlfriend?"

"Oh..." Oscar nods as he realizes who you're even talking about, and shrugs, before saying after a few seconds, a bit confused, "Well, of course she'd be wearing red. She's Ferrari."

You crinkle your nose. "Do you really expect me to wear bright orange, Oscar?"

He snorts and says, "No. All I'm saying is that maybe she just wears red for Ferrari. I don't know, I'm not paying attention to her. I only pay attention to you, and though I think you look beautiful in red or not, either way, all I'm saying is that it's just not your color. Besides, you told me to be honest at the beginning of all this. I'm just trying to do what you want me to do. But in then end, I don't really care what you wear; you look amazing either way."

You frown, and suddenly groan, "I wish I looked good in red!"

Oscar smiles, still a bit confused at this complaint. "Why?" he asks earnestly.

You shrug, glancing back down at the shirt. "I dunno. Because Alex looks so good in red."

Oscar cocks his head a bit, apparently still not really understanding. "Who cares what Alexandra looks good in? Because I certainly don't."

You sigh, getting a bit exasperated. "I don't know! I guess I'm just trying to look pretty on the paddock, but I look sucky in all the lovely styles that everyone else always wears!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Oscar says, his hand immediately going to your shoulder. "First of all, you never, ever look sucky, no matter what you're wearing. Second of all, in my opinion, you're always the prettiest in the paddock, no matter who's there. And third of all, who says you have to wear the styles everybody else is wearing? I think your current style is perfectly lovely and fine and beautiful, but even if you do want to change it up, you can find your own. Or invent your own. You don't have to copy Alexandra, or whoever else."

But you only hear half of what he's really saying, and register nearly none of it, and the moment he stops talking, you hold up yet another red top (that honestly doesn't really look that different to Oscar), and say, "How about this one? It's a different shade," holding it up to yourself.

Realizing that this really isn't a battle he's going to win, Oscar just sighs, smiles, and nods, saying, "Actually, yeah. I like the fit would be good. And this color suits you a bit more, too." To him, it looks like the exact same color.

You grin, seeming much more pleased, "Oh, good! Can I go try it on?"

Oscar sigh a bit, smiling and shaking his head, murmuring, "M-hm, sounds good. Can't wait to see it on you, beautiful."

As you walk off to the changing room, Oscar thinks he hears you murmur something about how 'maybe you should just go more for Carmen's style.' Oscar's eyebrows just scrunch together at that, and as he sits down outside the changing rooms to wait for you to come show him, all he can think is, Maybe that's just the way girls are, and I really don't understand them after all.

The excitement of having some of the prettiest girls in the paddock complimenting your outfits is almost too much. The girls that you admire so much.

The ones that handle the fame and attention so well.

You feel like you're already doing better with all that stuff. Once you're convinced you look good, which usually takes at least a half hour of switching outfits, at least twenty reassurances from Oscar, and at least one outside person complimenting your appearance, you feel like a different person.

Like you could conquer the world!

Well, Oscar's not a very sensitive person, nor overly perceptive. It doesn't bother him that you seem to be a bit preoccupied. Not really. Sure, there are some times he wishes you were around when you're not, like you used to be, but he doesn't take it personally. He wants the best for you. And if the best of you is to distance yourself a bit in order to find yourself, or whatever you're doing, he trusts you. As long as you keep saying there's nothing wrong, and you're all good, he'll keep being the first person to believe it.

He just keeps sort of ignoring his intuition telling him that something is just off. Because you're not just growing. It's almost as if you're changing into a new person. Not the girl he asked out years ago. Not the girl he's fallen in love with. On the outside, on the paddock, in public, with all the cameras on you, you seem like the bubbly, friendly perfect type of girl with everything all right. You've never really been that type. Of course, you've always been happy, and to him, you're just perfect. But you've never been so camera hungry and extroverted like you seem to be now. You seem so confident in yourself, it almost seems fake. Though Oscar would never dare consider that thought anymore. It's just that in private, you seem to be the polar opposite of that: tired, quiet, let down. It's like the balanced girl he knew that was consistent nearly all the time has just switched to opposite extremes in different situations. And, well, Oscar has no idea why. He'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't concerned.

But he also can't see any way it'd be right to bring it up.

He just kind of misses the way it used to be. The way you used to be.

"Oscar!" his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by your voice and your footsteps entering the room. It's the early morning before he has to head to the paddock to begin the last race weekend of the season, and he's been laying in bed on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for you to get out of the hotel bathroom so he can have a quick shower.

"Yes?" Oscar asks, setting his phone down as you enter the room. You enter the room to show him your clothes, feeling slightly nervous, and unsure, like countless times before.

You twirl in your outfit, which consists of a white strapless top, dress pants, and black high heels. "How do I look?"

This has been going on for months, now. Probably about half the season. And in that moment, it just kind of snaps in Oscar's brain, and without thinking, and without being supportive like he always is, he decides that today, he's going to be honest. "Well, you look gorgeous. As always, of course, Y/n." He sits up and slips off the bed, before continuing practically, "But how thick are those pants? It's supposed to be killer hot today, and I'd hate for you to cook in those. I mean, they do make you look killer hot. They do look nice. And the high heels are lovely, but you always talk about how much your feet hurt after wearing those. Especially out on the paddock? And," he adds, reaching you, so he's nice and close to you, before picking up his McLaren cap off the hotel nightstand and sticking it on your head, "When did you stop wearing this hat, hm? I always thought you looked adorable in it."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, as if neither of you were expecting all that to come out of Oscar's mouth.

But what happens next is about the last thing Oscar would expect.

You take the hat off your head, throw it at his feet, turn on your heel, and walk straight out of that hotel room.

It all happens so fast, Oscar doesn't even have a moment to register what just happened and call you back before the door shuts behind you.

Ten unread messages from Oscar, and you don't even know why you're so mad, but the last thing you want to do right now is see him.

The first thing you want to do is think through it. Convince yourself he's wrong, and you're right.

He wants me to be a certain way for some reason, and it bothers him that I'm becoming who I want to be? So he just likes an ordinary girl with ordinary looks and ordinary fashion and an ordinary personality?

The truth is, you have no idea why he'd want that more than what you're trying to be.

Maybe he's just controlling? He just wants control over what you wear and how you act? But for the years you've dated him, he's never displayed qualities like those.

Then what is it? your brain screams, and for some reason, tears begin to fill your eyes.

And that's when a whisper of a thought dares to say, Doesn't Oscar want the best for you?

Is doing all this really the best for you?

But all the PR and popularity with fans it's brought you... it's so... validating.

But also so exhausting.

And when you come home at the end of the day, don't you want nothing more than to just take that mask off and destroy it?

You know how fake it is. It's like you work every day to make your mask become your face, but that will never happen, and that's painful.

You were happier before, but your outward 'success' was, like, close to nothing.

Do you really want this?

Can you even give up now?

With all the validation from the fans and media?

Maybe Oscar was a bit much today in the hotel. He was. But maybe he had a point, too...

It's like you can't stop. You keep it up for the rest of the weekend, even to Oscar, now, pretending everything is okay, and it's too much.

But you can't stop.

At the end of the weekend, though, after it's all said and done and you've had enough and all you want is to go to sleep and let your dreams sweep you away, everything in you wants to break down.

You need to be alone.

You need to be alone so you can finally be real.

And, of course, when you walk into the hotel room, there Oscar is, sitting by the window.

Just looking out of it.

"What are you doing?" you demand in slight confusion.

You see him look at you in the reflection of the glass. He doesn't even turn around.

Is this all I am now? Merely a reflection in the glass of the person I was to him?

"Looking out the window, and you?"

"That's all?"

He nods, before finally glancing back at you. Showing you his real, handsome face.

It's late, so late.

He just won his driver's championship, and all you want to do is fall apart.

Why isn't he more happy?

Probably just tired.

And here you are, with your nerve, saying, "Oscar, would you mind leaving?"

You see his eyes flash in confusion in the glass. Fear, even, maybe for just a second. He stands up and faces you, his hands going to your shoulders. "Leaving?"

"Just for... a bit."

"Why?" he demands.

"I need some alone time."

He stares, his eyes softening further, before murmuring, "Since when have you ever asked me for that? How many times have we been alone together?"

"Aren't I allowed some privacy, Oscar?"

"Isn't your whole life privacy, by now, Y/n?" It's not an accusation. It's a desperate question, that you have no answer to.

Because you don't want to say yes, but you can't say no. "Please, Osc..." you murmur, trying to keep it together. "I need this time."

"Darling..." he whispers, like a silent prayer.

Your stomach lurches. Why is he calling me that?

Doesn't he only talk like that when he needs me?

"Oscar, listen..."

"Please..." he whispers. "Let it go. At least for me. Don't you see this isn't good for you?"

"Oscar, I-" your voice cracks.

He sighs. "We don't have to talk. We don't have to lay together, or sit together, or be next to each other. We could be on completely opposite sides of the room as each other." He gulps, before adding, "Just let us be alone together. Like we used to always be, when it hurt, and we needed alone time, but we knew we'd both always be there when the other needed it. It's starting to feel so lonely out here without you, darling..." he stroke your cheek gently.

You gulp, fighting back tears.

"Take off those shoes, go put on your pajamas. Just relax, beautiful. Let your cover fall. I don't ever want to forget the you you are without it."

"Do you want me to cry?"

"Never."

"Then why-"

"Because I'd rather you cry if you need to than hold it in and let it rot the inside of you, love."

Love.

"That's the first time you've ever called me that..." you murmur as you slowly lean against the bed to slip off your shoes.

He smiles softly, which surprises you.

You quickly slip on pajamas, before crawling into bed, and murmuring, despite yourself, "Can you come over?"

And in seconds, Oscar's crawling into bed next to you, tucking the two of you in.

"Hold me."

"It's my pleasure," he responds softly, gently pulling you into his chest.

You lay there like that for a while, before whispering, your voice so weak, "Oh, God, Oscar... I'm so, so tired."

"I know you are, darling. I know." He kisses the tops of your head.

Your voice cracks a bit, and this time, you let the tear fall. "I just... I just felt like maybe I should've... been more like them. I'll admit it, I got jealous."

Oscar strokes your hair.

You swallow. More tears fall. "I just guess I felt like I wasn't good enough, but they all were."

"Good enough for what?"

You stare, the question lingering like a germ in the air. "For the media. For the fans. For every single person watching me every single race weekend."

He kisses your nose. "Pressure got to you. Did you ever feel like you weren't good enough for yourself?"

You swallow, shrugging. Nod a bit.

He sighs softly, nodding. Takes your hand and begins whispering, "I want you to know. You're worthy of every single kiss, every single hug, every single sigh, every single tear. You're worthy of every single star in the sky, every single drop in the ocean. You're worthy of laughter and sunshine and so, so much love. You're worthy of..." Oscar trails off, suddenly feeling an unexpected wave of emotion hit himself, before he gains his grip once more again and continues with, in merely a soft whisper, "You're worthy of all the joy and goodness in with world. And you'd know that if you knew how much joy and goodness you project into the world, without even trying, without even thinking about it." He swallows to keep his voice from cracking, and finishes with, "Please know, no matter what happens, or whatever anyone says, I'll always love you for who you are. I'll always be here to be your home. I want you for everything you are, and nothing that you feel you've ought to be. Because to me, you're perfect just the way you are. That is the kind of worth you have, and I wish you could see that, too."

The moment the last beautiful whisper of a word exits his mouth, you break down, fall into him, and cry. And he whispers about wiping away every single one of your tears, because you deserve none of the pain you're going through.

The fact that you've done all this, and brought it on yourself, and hurt him, and he stills says this.

Once your tears have subsided, Oscar smiles a bit, looking into your eyes like you're the most beautiful sunrise, or sparkling dew fresh in the morning, or the glimmer of the sun on the ocean, or any other beautiful thing that could fascinate even the coldest of people. And he whispers, wiping away the last of your stray tears, "Dress for no one but yourself, love. Be who you are. Because whatever you want to wear, you'll stun me. And I love you for exactly the person you are, nt the person you feel you ought to be. Whether you're in an evening gown with the most beautifully done makeup, or in your pajamas with tangled up hair, to me, you'll always, no matter what, be the most gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect woman I have ever set my eyes upon."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Oscar, you..." You're utterly speechless.

He holds you close, and for the first time in months, you feel a certain peace envelop you.

You feel like you're home again.

Maybe all you needed was a good cry and the most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.

As your exhausted body gives itself away to slumber you hear Oscar murmur after gently kissing your scalp, "Can't wait to see you in my McLaren hat again, darling."

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

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suzukiblu · 5 hours ago

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Day twenty-six of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Hey there, babe,” Bernard says, and Kon feels him flash Tim an easy grin as he rubs his fingertips up the back of his neck in little strokes. “Color?”

“Green,” Tim says, simple and matter-of-fact, and Kon apparently actually still had some brain left to wreck because hearing Tim’s voice again and hearing Tim’s voice say “green” just reduced it all to bubbling glop.

“Nice,” Bernard says, then adds conversationally: “Your boy was really good, just stayed cuddled up to me all cute the whole time and got real excited for playtime. He definitely missed you, though. Pined a little bit at the window and all, you know how pets get.”

“Tim,” Kon says without making any real conscious decision to, and it comes out fucking breathy. Tim drops a kiss in behind his ear; squeezes his and Bernard’s linked hands once more before dropping his hand down to his thigh and stroking down to hook underneath it. Kon makes some kind of a noise, he thinks, but can’t hear it over his own thrumming heartbeat. “Tim, I–Rob, can I–”

“Stay, pet,” Tim murmurs, steadier than any other voice he knows, and everything in Kon’s head that isn’t about him instantly dissolves into nothing. It’s–nothing. It’s all nothing. There’s nothing else there at all.

“Seriously, you two are way too good at that,” Bernard says, which Kon’s pretty sure he only actually hears because Bernard is Tim-adjacent enough to count as a thing that’ll stay in his head right now. Tim kisses his pulse; squeezes the underside of his thigh.

“Practice makes perfect,” Tim murmurs, and Kon’s whole brain evaporates and takes everything that isn’t floaty melty-soft rightness with it. They’ve never–they’ve never done this before.

They’ve done this too many fucking times to even count.

“Clearly, yeah,” Bernard says with a breathless laugh, and Tim’s fingertips brush in along Kon’s rim and up against where it’s stretched around Bernard’s cock. Kon feels too blissed-out to even react for the contact, but it feels good. Not quite as good as the cock inside him and arms around him, maybe, but still really, really good.

It’s Tim, so obviously it does.

“You did a good job,” Tim observes musingly, rubbing just one finger in along the seam right where they’re joined. Kon moans this time, though it’s so quiet he barely even hears it himself, and Bernard buries a rough huff in against his hair. “He’s a lot more relaxed.”

“Feels like it, yeah,” Bernard says, still a little breathless as he presses a kiss in against Kon’s temple and squeezes his arms around him a little tighter. “Like I’ve got an entire friggin’ punching bag sitting on my dick, except sexy. Dunno how that works but I’m into it, not gonna lie.”

“Not really surprised to hear that, considering,” Tim says, and then very gently slides a fingertip up into Kon’s body beside Bernard’s dick, easy as anything. Kon is definitely not the only one who hears himself moan this time. “Mm. He took that really well, didn’t he.”

“Jesus, Tim,” Bernard says, his voice a little strangled. “Did you not just color over this idea?”

“If I hadn’t taken a minute, I wasn’t going to be able to do it as well as my boy deserves,” Tim replies. Kon feels . . . blurry, a little, and isn’t sure what they’re talking about. But then Tim just gently works another finger up inside him and Bernard makes a tight little noise against his temple and he buries another moan in the other’s shoulder and decides he doesn’t really care anyway. It’s fine. Tim’ll tell him if there’s anything he needs to do. Or . . . know, he guesses.

“Oh, but I’m supposed to last for this?” Bernard says, and it comes out borderline a wheeze.

“You’ve got better stamina than me on a normal day, babe,” Tim replies, sounding amused, and Kon feels him take a moment to give Bernard an affectionate little smile that he really wishes he could actually see.

It’s not . . . it’s not like it’s for him anyway, but . . .

“Now he tries to win me over with flattery,” Bernard grumbles, then laughs even more breathlessly than the last time and curls his fingers against the back of Kon’s neck and around his fingers. “I’m getting Batted right now, aren’t I.”

“You’re getting Timmed, babe,” Tim hums, leaning up over Kon’s back to press a kiss to Bernard’s mouth. Kon can feel that too, and it’s a soft and familiar and lingering thing, and they both clearly know how to expect the other to kiss; clearly’ve done it–clearly’ve done it–

Too many fucking times to even count, Kon thinks.

His gut sort of–tightens, a little, something weirdly longing twisting up inside it, and he wants . . . he thinks he wants . . .

He really wants kissed right now, he thinks, and buries his face in even tighter against Bernard’s shoulder.

They’re being really nice to him. He doesn’t need to be–greedy, or whatever.

#timberkon #konbern #timkon #timbern #kon el #conner kent #bernard dowd #tim drake #superboy #dc robin #wip: think pink #dom/sub

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12raccoonsinadress · 3 days ago

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Harvey smut !! I don’t have a plot have a idea for it buuut if could give it some plot that leads into smut

Fem!reader

Stress Is Bad For Your Health: Harvey x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Hope everyone is doing well ~ 💚

Art Cred: @mimipippin

Word Count: 4,314

Third POV

You somehow always find yourself here after a long day. You sit at the bar, never drinking much, but trying to soak in some of the relaxed ambience of the saloon, hoping it'll somehow melt off some of the stress. You didn't assume being a farmer would be easy, but that wasn't it. It was being a farmer, helping the community, rebuilding the community center, mining, fighting off beasts. Really the list went on and on. It was overwhelming. You sipped your drink.

As you lowered your mug you could see the familiar green coat in your peripherals as you were joined at the bar.

"Hard day?"

You looked over now. Harvey always had this cute sort of charm to him in your opinion. Like he was just a little bit nervous to be around you. You sighed, running a hand down your face.

"Clint wanted some iron samples from the mine today. I don't think I've ever seen that many bats in my life."

His expression became one that was more concerned.

"Are you hurt at all?"

"No, I'm alright. Just stressed I guess."

You said, sipping your drink.

Harvey didn't seem convinced, watching you as you did.

"Stress can be bad for your health, Y/n. It impacts your immune system and makes it easier to contract illness. Not to mention the long term affects"

"I know, I know. Don't worry about me, Harvey. I'll be fine."

"Have you tried anything to relieve the stress?"

"I tried a few things. None of them really stuck."

Which was true. No matter what you tried, nothing really helped you relax, even this. Harvey hummed a bit, trying to think for a moment. He wanted to help you, the same way you've done so much to help the community.

"What have you tried?"

"I dunno, yoga, meditating, going to the bath house. And this."

"Well, I can say looking for relief at the bottom of a bottle won't do you much good."

You caught his quick glance towards Pam, who sat across the bar on her third mug of beer. You had no intentions of becoming a drunk, but you could see why that'd be a concern for him.

"I'm not. Trust me, Harvey, I have no interest in drinking myself stupid."

He seemed to relax a bit at that, though still thinking on your behalf.

"Surely there's something that'll help you relax."

You shrugged. You were used to it, not that that was a good thing. His face went a bit red as a thought dawned on him.

Both of you were painfully aware of the tension you had, but it was something neither of you could possibly find a way to address without making things weird. And now, he was considering breaching that barrier between the comfortable tension where no one needed to say anything, and the certainty that you had feelings for each other but all the unknown that comes with that.

"I apologize if this is an invasive question, but have you considered, uh, finding someone to assist you with your stress relief."

You looked at him for a moment, puzzled, like you might not have been following what he said. He continued quickly, more flustered now.

"I just mean, in the sense of, suggesting it as another option that may help you. Plenty of people seek intimacy as a form of stress relief or regulation."

You blushed now too. You hadn't considered getting the stressed fucked out of you, but you also weren't really the one night stand type of person. And with how small Pelican Town was, you didn't think sleeping around would be the best idea anyway. You looked at Harvey, who looked nervous enough to fall off his bar stool. You decided to try and lighten the mood. Or maybe just tease him. Either would be ideal.

"Is this an offer, doctor?"

He blushed harder if that was at all possible. He stammered out quickly.

"I- Well, I wouldn't- Not necessarily."

You raised a brow, an amused smile creeping onto your face. You sort of liked that idea, letting Harvey try and help you relieve your stress.

"Well, if I were to try this method of stress relief, who better to put myself into the hands of than the trusted town doctor?"

You smiled, leaning on the counter and tipping your head. He took a moment, analyzing all the thousands of ways this could be wrong versus how incredibly beautiful he thought you were and how he wouldn't want to give you off to someone else for this. He was looking away as he spoke, too nervous to look at you.

"If.. you believe it'd be in your best interest, I don't see any issue with.. ah, assisting you with your stress problems."

You put the money for your drink down on the bar and extended a hand to him.

"Shall we then?"

"Now?"

"I don't see why not. As long as you don't bite as much as the bats tried to."

You winked. Despite being mildly concerned about that comment, he did take your hand. You left together, making the walk out to the farm. The walk was quiet. He was thinking about all the ways this could go. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint you, especially when this was, or so he kept telling himself, for your health. He wondered if this would effect his chances with you, in a positive or negative way. On one hand, it was an opportunity to get closer to one another on an emotional and physical level, but on the other, to skip over so many of the usually relationship steps and get right to sex wasn't the kind of thing that had a good track record of leading to long term partnerships. He didn't want this to be a one night stand or some kind of friends with benefits thing. He wanted to care for you, cherish you, hold you in his arms after a long day at work and kiss your forehead before blissfully drifting off to sleep. He wanted to see you sleepily stumble from the bedroom in the morning and join him for coffee in the kitchen before you both began your day. He wanted to take you somewhere lovely on some sunny day, take your hands in his, and give you a mermaid pendant. He wanted to be the only person you'd come to for stress relief.

Soon you both arrived at the farm. You opened the front door, going inside and kicking off your boots. He followed suit, taking his shoes off at the door. You turned to him.

"You alright if we head to my room?"

Yes, the plan was to have sex, but you still felt the need to ease him into this. He was usually nervous, so you'd imagine now being no different. He nodded. So, while still holding his hand, you led him back to your bedroom. It wasn't anything too fancy or special. Truthfully, aside from sleeping you didn't spend much time there. You turned on a small lamp near the bed, which illuminated the room with a dim, warm, yellowish glow. You sat on the edge of the bed, having now let go of Harvey's hand.

"Is there any particular way you'd like to proceed?"

He asked. He was really a bit lost on what you wanted from him. He wanted to do good for you. You pat the bed beside you, urging him to also sit.

"I figured we could just feel it out as we go."

He sat beside you, though wasn't looking at you just yet. He was steeling his nerves. You admired the doctor for a moment. Gently, you reached over to cup his cheek and turn his face towards you. He looked at you now, waiting for you to make the next move. You figured you'd be leading this for the most part, but were surprised when he reached for you, placing a hand on the small of your back, simply touching you. He was cute. You leaned in, kissing him softly. It didn't take him more than a moment to adjust and return the gesture. As you suspected, he didn't fight for control, though he didn't fully surrender to you either, doing fairly well at matching you. His hand wandered down, resting on your hip as you deepened the kiss. From his cheek, you trailed your hand down his chest. You'd imagined what he may look like beneath the button up and the jacket. So many layers. Left too much to the imagination. You began your attempt to push off his jacket. He pulled back slightly.

"Allow me. This is for you after all. It wouldn't be right for me to make you do all the work."

His voice was slightly hushed. You blushed hard at that. It was a new side of him. Still caring, yes, but it was more... sure. He took off his jacket, setting it on the foot of the bed. You watched as he loosened his tie, sighing a bit as he did. You were practically in awe. He looked back at you, looking you over a bit.

"If... we are to continue this direction, would you like some assistance undressing, y/n?"

You nodded, maybe a little too quickly. The idea of Harvey undressing you was just too good to pass up. You'd love to feel what those precise doctor's hands felt like brushing against your skin. He moved to be standing in front of you, slipping his hands under your shirt. He wasn't much of a tease, taking it off of you gently but with little ceremony. He set your shirt nicely off to the side before looking at you. There was a bit of a glaze over his eyes. You could only describe it as a look of want. Need.

"Will you be taking off your shirt as well, doctor?"

You teased, breaking him out of his little daze. He nodded, pulling his tie off fully.

"Yes, of course."

He went to work unbuttoning his shirt, looking down as he did. You watched it slowly open up, discarding your bra while you did. You weren't sure what exactly you expected him to look like, but you felt a soft smile creep onto your face. He was him. There was no secret six pack, he didn't look thinner or bigger than he did normally. It almost felt like you knew this is what he was going to look like, and you liked that. He still felt like himself and that was who you loved.

Once he'd set his shirt off to the side, he looked back at you. He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. He leaned down, speaking softly.

"Could you raise your hips for me? It will be easier for me to help you undress if you do."

You did, biting the inside of your lip just a little bit. His hands were gentle, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down to the point where you could just kick them off. He seemed to contemplate going and grabbing them to put with the rest of the clothing, but decided to redirect his attention to you. You, and how absolutely stunning you were sitting before him, mostly naked. He swallowed hard.

"How... exactly would you like me to, ah, assist with your stress problems?"

He knew he had a few ideas on what he'd like to do for you and what he'd like to do to you, but now was about you and what you wanted. You thought for a moment.

"Well, doctor-"

"Harvey."

He corrected you, much to your surprise. He blushed as he explained himself.

"Doctor is what my patients call me. People that only know me professionally, not like this. If we continue.. I'd prefer you use my name."

Your heart melted a little bit.

"Of course."

You continued, correcting yourself this time, using a softer tone as opposed to the teasing one you had intended on using.

"Well, Harvey, I think what would help me destress the most would be seeing the rest of you and deciding from there."

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought you saw his glasses fog up, just a little bit. He unbuckled his belt, looking down as he did. It seemed to be how he avoided looking at you. He set his belt aside, soon followed by his pants. You looked him over with almost a hungry sort of expression. You couldn't find the words to describe how you wanted this soft spoken, nervous man to carnally destroy you.

He sat beside you now. You put a hand on his thigh, leaning closer to him. He looked at you, a softness in his eyes that you couldn't quite place. Regardless, you kissed him. He didn't hesitate in kissing you back, wrapping an arm back around you, placing a firm hand on your hip, pulling you closer.

He deepened the kiss this time, getting more excited than nervous now. You liked that. You wanted him to take more initiative with this. You let him lead, almost curious how far this bold streak would take him. He broke the kiss, mostly to catch his breath. You spoke, out of breath.

"I want you on top of me, Harvey."

It wouldn't relieve much stress if you had to do all the work. His face flushed red, and he took a moment to find his voice, nodding first.

"I can do that. Would you like to lay down then?"

You gave him one more peck on the lips before moving to lay back comfortably in your bed. You sprawled yourself out in the most "casual-sexy" way you could manage without putting too much effort in, mostly to tease him. He moved to hold himself up over you, looking down at you.

"If this is the way you'd like to proceed, I should ask if you have the proper... protection."

Right. You almost forgot about that. You couldn't actually think of a reason you would have bought condoms recently, considering your dry spell. It's not like you'd been expecting this tonight. You thought for a moment.

"Does the clinic have plan B?"

He went a bit wide eyed at the implications of that.

"W-we do, but are you sure you want to depend on that?"

You half shrugged.

"I'm alright with it if you are."

He weighed his options for a moment. On one hand, it was risky for multiple reasons, he knew that, but on the other hand, you looked so incredibly enticing beneath him and here you were, essentially asking him to fill you with himself. You were getting inside his head and fogging his better judgement. He nodded.

"Only if you promise to come to me if anything happens afterwards."

Whether that be side effects of the medication or otherwise, he wanted you healthy and taken care of.

You smiled, pulling him down to kiss you. He was so sweet. It's why you think you were so okay with all of this. It was Harvey. He'd never hurt you, he'd always treat you so preciously. While still supporting himself with one hand, his other moved to your waist, moving up and down aimlessly. You let your hands run down his chest, feeling him up a little. A little more curiously, you let one hand wander down further towards his boxers. You smiled slightly against his lips as his breath hitched. You were glad to know you got him excited like this.

He broke the kiss, looking down at you with lidded eyes, a needy expression. It definitely did something for you. His gaze trailed down, as far as it could from his current position.

"May I?"

He asked, a slight roughness to his voice you'd never heard before. It shot through your body and straight between your legs. You nodded, not even completely sure what he was asking to do to you. Then again, you'd let him do just about anything to you as long as he kept looking at you like that.

His hand moved down, fingertips slipping into the front of your panties. You bit your lip, anticipating his touch. He started slowly, brushing against your clit with his middle finger, rubbing at an almost teasing pace. Slow circles one direction, then the other, he'd pause, just for a moment, before pressing a little harder than before and rubbing up and down, a little faster. You started to squirm beneath him, which seemed to be what he wanted as he smiled, ever so slightly.

"I suppose I should ask."

He started, not relenting on his touches.

"If I were to get you to orgasm like this, clitorally that is, it would be a fairly satisfying, but short lived experience. If I were to bring you to a vaginal orgasm, it would be longer lasting, and more intense. However, if you were to finish this way first, it would ideally let your body relax, as well as produce enough slickness to make a vaginal orgasm much easier to achieve."

You gave him a pleading expression, wanting him to get to the point. He seemed to understand.

"All of that to say, Y/n, would you like to experience both tonight, or would you prefer we get to the good part now?"

With the fact that he had continued gently torturing your clit through all of that, you truthfully gathered very little of what he said. What you did gather, was he wanted to get you off, and then fuck you into getting off again, which you weren't necessarily against at the moment. You whined softly as you responded.

"Do whatever you want to me as long as you please stop teasing."

He smiled some at that, though blushing.

"Anything you say, dear."

He said softly, beginning to move a little faster with his hand, though not so fast as to be uncomfortable. You were going to have to ask him where he learned how to do this, because fuck was he good at it. He leaned down, kissing your lips. Perfectly timed, as you arched your back, pressing yourself into his hand, moaning into his lips as he worked you through it, slowing until you relaxed beneath him. He pulled away, letting you catch your breath. He moved back, working on getting your now wet panties off and put to the side. He admired you laying there, flushed red, panting, glistening. A beautiful sight, all for him.

As you came down off your high, you looked over at him. He was hesitating slightly, pursing his lips, sort of messed with the edge of his boxers.

"Something wrong?"

You asked, catching his attention.

"No, nothing is wrong. Apologies, I was just a little distracted."

You weren't completely sure you believed that. You didn't have much time to look into it more though, because you were promptly distracted by him pulling his boxers off. You felt a slight chill wash over your body, mostly in anticipation. It'd been a minute since you'd had anyone, or anything really, inside of you like this. He wasn't an intimidating size by any means though he might have been slightly girthier than you would have said you were used to. You could imagine how good he'd feel filling you up, how nicely he'd stretch you. Thankfully, you didn't have to just imagine for long.

He set his boxers aside, adjusting his glasses slightly. He moved his hand back between your legs, pushing a finger in carefully. You bit your lips as he rocked it inside of you for a moment before going and adding a second. He almost looked lost in thought, staring down at his hand between your legs, watching his fingers disappear inside of you with such ease. Soon, he added a third finger and you started to get impatient. You didn't want to wait any longer. With the hand not prepping you, he gently rubbed your thigh.

It was tempting for him to continue like this. He wanted to see you there, in pure bliss, as much as he could tonight. He didn't know if he'd get you like this again. Tonight wasn't about his desires though, it was about you and getting you to relax. He pulled his fingers out, adjusting so he could spread your legs a little more and place himself in between them. You could feel him pressed against you.

"Are you ready?"

He asked in a gentle tone. You nodded quickly, too eager for him to fill you up. He took a deep breath, adjusting, and slowly starting to press into you. You let your head fall back, eyes closing. You let yourself get lost in the feeling, focusing on how he felt as he started to push inside of you. At the same time, you felt his hand grab yours, making an attempt to lace your fingers with his. You held onto him. He was so sweet, even like this. He stopped. You looked up at him now, seeing that his own eyes were closed. He was taking a moment to relish in the feeling of you around him. Warm, soft, and so incredibly good. His chest rose and fell like he had just finished a marathon. It was a sight to behold. When his eyes opened, he looked down at you, gently squeezing your hand.

"Still alright?"

He asked, out of breath already. You nodded. He nodded in return. He leaned down slightly, bringing your hand up to him so he could kiss your knuckles. He places a few, soft kisses there. It almost distracted you from the way his hips began to slowly rock. He let your hand back down, adjusting to pull your hips more so into his lap. He was trying to get a very particular angle, guiding one of you legs up over his shoulder.

"There we go."

He said in a near whisper, giving a more precise thrust now, causing you to gasp, gripping the blanket beneath you. He had to have done this before. Recently. This couldn't be the same socially nervous doctor you knew. He was still his sweet self, but he knew too well how to work your body, maybe more than even you did. Either way, he must've liked the reaction you gave because he did it again, finding his pace gradually. You moaned beneath him, which only encouraged him on. When you looked at his face, it was an expression of focus mixed with need, desperation.

His pace gradually increased until you felt you were going to lose yourself. Just as it started to get to being too much, he'd slow, causing you to whine beneath him. This happened at least 3 times. You couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose or not. By that third time, you looked up at him.

"Harvey, please-"

He nodded, seeming to understand your plea as he kept his faster speed. You felt your orgasm start to bubble up inside of you before finally, finally, bursting through your body in a way you couldn't remember feeling. Your body tensed, twitching, your hips trying to fuck themselves down onto him more than just what he was doing as he worked you through it. Right as you began to feel your senses start to calm down, you felt him bottom out, holding there, groaning quietly. You could feel the warm feeling inside of you as he came. He was quite the sight like that. Blushy, sweaty, and completely caught up in pleasure. He lowered your leg, readjusting before carefully pulling out.

He took a second to breathe. Then he looked at your face.

"Stay here. Do you have tissues somewhere? Or, um, maybe a washcloth?"

You gestured to the door that led to the bathroom. He stood up, going that direction to find something to clean you both up with. He took that time to think about what just happened. Not only did he get to be intimate with the woman he was in love with, but he came inside of you. Which, granted, was something he'd have to deal with later. Even so, he felt like he was lighter than air. He came back with a wash cloth, slightly damp with warm water. He cleaned you up, as well as himself.

"Would you like any assistance getting into pajamas?"

He asked. You looked up at him, tired and honestly a little clingy at the moment.

"Harvey, just come here and lay down."

He seemed a little surprised, though did as you asked. He pulled the blanket back so you could at least be beneath it. You got comfortable and moved to be close to him, snuggling against him. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, like you were fragile or maybe as if you'd disappear like some dream if he held you too tight. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, taking a moment to just think.

You were laying here, naked, wrapped in Harvey's arms, listening to the sound of his breathing. You felt calm. Tomorrow, you'd probably be a little embarrassed. Tomorrow, you'd have to talk about it, figure out what this meant for your relationship. You hoped this wasn't just a one time thing. You'd like to do more with him. You'd like to be in an actual relationship. You felt his hand move, gently rubbing your back. You decided to focus on that for now. For now, you were cozy and comfortably pressed up against Harvey's chest, and that's all that mattered.

You felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Whatever happened tomorrow, you were sure it would be okay.

#stardew valley fanfiction #fanfic #smut #stardew valley #stardew harvey #sdv harvey #harvey x farmer #sdv harvey smut #no proofreading we die like men

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biblical-chronicles · 12 hours ago

Text

Back to you

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where Noel finally returns from tour, and in the quiet of their little flat, him and the reader take the next step in their relationship [18+]

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The tour was finally winding down. After weeks of endless driving, lugging gear, and crashing on questionable sofas, Noel was ready to be back home—to see you. The Inspiral Carpets gigs had been mad, as usual, and while he loved the buzz, the energy, and the music, his thoughts always wandered back to your little flat and your laugh, the way it could drown out even the loudest amp in his head.

He let himself in quietly, the key turning in the lock with that soft click he’d missed hearing. The smell of your home hit him immediately—a mix of your favorite candles and just... you. It made his chest feel tight in the best way.

You must’ve heard him, though, because before he could even drop his bag, you came flying out of the bedroom, your socks sliding across the floor as you threw yourself at him.

“Noel!”

He caught you just in time, your arms locking around his neck as you kissed him full on the mouth. He laughed against your lips, a little breathless, but didn’t waste a second before kissing you back. His bag thudded to the floor as his hands settled on your waist, holding you as close as he could.

“Bloody hell, love,” he mumbled when you finally pulled back to breathe. “Missed me, did ya?”

“Missed you?” you repeated, your voice pitching up in mock disbelief. “You’ve got no idea, Gallagher. I’ve been losing me mind without you.”

He grinned, cheeks going a bit pink under your scrutiny. “You’re makin’ it sound like I’ve been off for years.”

“Feels like it,” you huffed, tugging him by the hand into the living room. “You’ve been gone ages, Noel. Ages. I mean, how’s a girl supposed to cope without her boyfriend, huh?”

“Dunno,” he said with a smirk, “seems like you managed alright. Flat hasn’t burnt down or owt.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you muttered, but your smile gave you away.

You sat him down on the couch and immediately curled up next to him, your head finding its usual spot on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, the tension in his back easing as he leaned into you. This—this was what he missed.

“Tour alright?” you asked after a moment, your voice softer now.

“Yeah, same old,” he replied, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Lads are mad as ever. Good gigs, though. Couldn’t wait to get back here, sick of havin’ no decent brew.”

You laughed, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ah, so that’s what you missed most. Me tea.”

“And this.” He squeezed you lightly, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Reckon I’ll put up with you if you keep supplyin’ the brews.”

You pinched his side, making him yelp and laugh.

After a while, the two of you moved to the bedroom. Noel stripped down to his boxers while you rifled through a drawer for your comfiest pajamas, the ease between you two so natural it was like he’d never been away. When you finally crawled into bed, you tugged him down beside you, tucking yourself into his side.

“God, I love you,” you murmured, the words tumbling out like they’d been waiting for weeks.

He blinked, a bit caught off guard even though you’d said it before. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “I’ve missed you so much, Noel. And not just in the ‘wish you were here to do summat for me’ kind of way. Like... properly missed you. The flat felt so empty without you. I’d just sit there thinking about you, wondering if you were okay, if you were tired, if you were eating enough—”

“Christ, you sound like me mum,” he teased, though his voice was softer than usual, his cheeks coloring.

“Oi, I’m being serious!” you said, poking him in the chest. “You’ve been lugging around gear for weeks, Noel, and I know you don’t take care of yourself like you should. I just... I love you, alright? And I want you to know that.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as he gave you that small, shy smile you loved so much.

“Love you too,” he said, the words quiet but firm, like they’d been there all along. “More than you know, love.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned down to kiss him, soft and slow. He pulled you closer, his hands splaying over your back as he deepened the kiss. When you finally broke apart, he was grinning up at you, his shyness giving way to his usual cheeky confidence.

“Right, you’re stuck with me now,” he said, his voice playful but warm. “No gettin’ rid of me. Not after a speech like that.”

“Good,” you said, your smile matching his. “I don’t want to get rid of you.”

The moment hung between you like the soft glow of the streetlamp outside the window, its light filtering through the thin curtains. Noel’s eyes searched yours, his hand cradling your cheek as his thumb brushed lightly over your skin. There was a gentleness in his touch that made your heart ache in the best way, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in again, your lips meeting his.

This kiss wasn’t soft or tentative like before. It was deeper, fuller, charged with a longing that had been building for weeks. Noel responded instantly, his hand slipping into your hair, holding you steady as his lips moved against yours.

You shifted closer, your fingers trailing up his chest before wrapping around his neck. The heat between you grew, and when his tongue grazed your bottom lip, you opened for him without hesitation. The soft groan that rumbled in his throat sent a thrill through you, and you pressed yourself tighter against him.

It was a blur of hands and lips and quiet sighs, your bodies moving like they’d been waiting for this moment all along. When his hand slid down your side, resting just above the curve of your hip, you gasped into the kiss. It wasn’t planned or deliberate; it just happened—a small sound of want slipping out before you could stop it.

Noel froze, pulling back slightly as his eyes flicked open. His cheeks were flushed, his lips kiss-bruised, and his chest rose and fell like he’d just run a mile. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice husky but tinged with concern. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Don’t apologize.”

His brows knit together. “But—”

“I want this,” you said firmly, your voice soft but steady. “I want you, Noel. I’ve never been more sure about owt in me life.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, and you saw the conflict flash in his eyes—hesitation, protectiveness, and something deeper, something tender.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean... I know you’ve not... y��know.”

You nodded, your fingers stroking his cheek. “I know. But I trust you, Noel. I love you.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, all he could do was look at you, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. Then, with a shaky exhale, he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your hand cupping his face. “Takes one to know one.”

He let out a breathy laugh before capturing your lips again, his touch more deliberate this time, but still gentle—always gentle. He took his time, his fingers trailing lightly over the fabric of your clothes, testing and teasing as though he was afraid of rushing anything.

“Does this feel good?” Noel asked, his voice low and rasping, barely louder than a breath. His blue eyes met yours, searching for reassurance, for a sign that he was doing it right.

You nodded quickly, your heart racing, but the shyness that crept into your chest made it difficult to speak. You bit your lip, your gaze flickering down as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Oi,” he said softly, tilting your chin up with his fingers so you’d look at him. “Don’t get all shy on me now, love. Just tell me, yeah? Want to get it right for you.”

His honesty made your stomach flip. Taking a deep breath, you whispered, “It’s good. Really good.” Then, swallowing your nerves, you added, “You can... you can touch me a little more, if you want. Just, um, here.” You guided his hand to rest on your waist, the contact sending a spark of warmth through you.

Noel’s lips quirked into a small, reassuring smile. “Here, yeah? Alright.” His hand flexed slightly, his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your side through the thin fabric. “How’s that?”

You nodded again, your voice catching. “Perfect.”

Encouraged by your response, Noel leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then another just below your ear. “What about this?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips. “It’s nice. I like it,” you managed, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he said, his own confidence growing. He shifted closer, his hand trailing higher along your side, careful and unhurried. “If I do anything you don’t like, just say the word, alright?”

“I will,” you promised, your hand resting over his as if to anchor yourself. “But you’re doing everything right.”

As his fingers brushed the bare skin where your top had ridden up slightly, your breath hitched, and Noel froze. “Too much?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s—it’s good. Just... maybe slower?”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Slower it is.” His touch became even more deliberate, his movements tender and precise. “You’ll have to keep bossin’ me about, though. Can’t be fumblin’ through it like a clueless muppet.”

A quiet laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you glanced up at him, your shyness melting under his warmth. “You’re not fumbling. You’re... amazing.”

“Yeah, well,” he teased gently, his lips brushing your temple. “Got a decent teacher, haven’t I?”

You smiled, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. As his hand continued its soft journey, your nerves ebbed away, replaced by a sense of closeness that felt both thrilling and comforting.

For a few moments, you simply enjoyed the way he touched you, his calloused fingers so careful as though you were something precious. But there was a small ache in your chest, a yearning that made your voice tremble when you finally spoke.

“Noel?”

“Yeah, love?” he murmured, his lips now pressed softly against your jaw.

You hesitated, your hands tightening slightly on his shoulders. “Could you... um... touch me here?” You reached up with shaky fingers and gestured to your chest, your cheeks burning as you avoided his gaze.

Noel froze for a second, his eyes darting to yours as if to confirm he’d heard you right. “You sure?” he asked, his voice hushed but steady, his hand hovering uncertainly.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I’m sure. I just... I trust you.”

Those three words seemed to undo him. His expression softened, and he exhaled deeply, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “Alright,” he said, his voice a quiet promise. “If that’s what you want.”

Slowly, his hand moved to your chest, his touch featherlight at first as though he was afraid of overstepping. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low but filled with care.

“Yes,” you whispered, your breath hitching slightly at the sensation. “It’s good.”

His thumb brushed experimentally over the fabric, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. His eyes darted to yours again, checking in even as his confidence grew. “Still good?”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice trembling slightly. “Really good.”

Encouraged, Noel leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips that was both tender and deeply passionate. You clung to him, your fingers threading through his dark hair as you pulled him closer, needing more of the warmth and safety that only he seemed to provide.

“Noel,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling but sure.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to search your eyes. His chest rose and fell quickly, his breath mingling with yours as he studied your expression. “Yeah, love?”

“I want... more,” you murmured, your cheeks flushing as you fumbled for the right words.

Noel’s brows lifted slightly, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “More, eh?” he teased gently, his voice low but still tinged with that cheeky edge that made your heart flutter. “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, sweetheart. I’m not exactly a mind reader.”

Your lips parted as a nervous laugh escaped, but your hands betrayed your intent, sliding down to the hem of your top. With a deep, steadying breath, you started to lift it, exposing more of your skin to the cool air of the room. “I just... I want you to touch me here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced down toward your chest.

Noel’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed frozen in place. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice more serious now as his hands moved to gently cover yours, stilling your movements. “I don’t wanna rush you into anything.”

“I’m sure,” you said, looking up at him with a mix of nervousness and yearning. “I trust you. I want this—I want you.”

His breath hitched at your words, and he nodded, his hands releasing yours but remaining close, ready to pull back if you changed your mind. As you slid the fabric up and over your head, leaving your upper body bare before him, Noel’s eyes softened, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of awe and tenderness.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. One of his hands reached out hesitantly, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin. “God, you’re beautiful.”

The reverence in his tone sent a warmth flooding through you, and you smiled, leaning into his touch. “You can use your mouth, too,” you whispered, your cheeks burning as the words left your lips.

Noel’s gaze snapped up to meet yours, his cheeks coloring slightly even as a slow, cheeky grin spread across his face. “Me mouth, eh?” he teased, though his voice was tinged with shyness. “You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing a trail of soft kisses along your collarbone before his lips finally found their way to your chest.

Noel’s lips moved slowly, almost reverently, over the soft curve of your chest. His breath was warm against your skin, sending tiny shivers dancing down your spine. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction you gave him.

When his lips finally closed around the sensitive peak of your breast, a sharp gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders. The sensation was both tender and electrifying, a mix of heat and softness that sent your pulse racing.

He hummed softly against you, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that made your toes curl. His tongue flicked gently, tentative at first, as though testing what you liked. When your fingers tightened in his hair and a breathless whimper slipped from your lips, it seemed to spur him on.

“Like that, do you?” he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin but still carrying that cheeky charm.

“Y-Yeah,” you managed, your voice trembling with both nerves and pleasure. “It’s... so good, Noel.”

Encouraged, he took more of you into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before gently sucking, his hands bracing your sides to steady you as you instinctively arched closer to him. The combination of his mouth and the way his hands held you—strong but tender—made your head spin in the best way.

The quiet moans and sighs you couldn’t hold back seemed to fuel him further, and he alternated between gentle sucks and soft kisses, his teeth grazing lightly just to see how you’d react. When your breath hitched and a quiet, broken moan escaped, he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he looked up at you with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Didn’t think I’d have you makin’ sounds like that,” he teased, his voice low and husky, though there was an unmistakable fondness in his eyes.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not when he was looking at you like that. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice soft but sure as you gazed down at him.

His expression softened at your words, the teasing edge giving way to something more serious, more intimate. “Don’t plan to, love,” he murmured before lowering his head again, his lips and tongue lavishing the same attention on your other breast.

The way he explored you, so attentive and eager to please, made your heart ache with affection. You couldn’t help but thread your fingers through his hair again, holding him close as he worked, every touch and flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were flushed, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you. “You alright?” he asked, his hands gently rubbing your sides. “Not too much, yeah?”

You shook your head, a dazed smile spreading across your face. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him

The kiss grew sloppy but no less intense, all wet heat and stifled moans. When your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, he groaned against your lips, the sound making your thighs clench around him instinctively. You arched into him, your body pressing flush against his chest as if trying to get closer, though there was no space left to close.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, his voice thick and gravelly, as your movement caused your chest to brush against him. His hips twitched beneath you, the involuntary reaction drawing a surprised gasp from you.

You pulled back just slightly, panting, your lips swollen and slick as you gazed down at him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes blown wide with desire as he looked up at you. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his accent even thicker than usual, his voice a low rasp.

A shy smile tugged at your lips, but before you could respond, his hands slid up your sides again, and he leaned forward to recapture your mouth in another searing kiss. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you dizzy, your body responding instinctively to the overwhelming closeness.

When his hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding you to settle more securely in his lap, you gasped into the kiss, the sound turning into a quiet moan when his tongue dipped into your mouth again. His groan in response was just as guttural, the vibrations against your lips making you arch into him again.

“Noel,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his lips trailing down your jaw and along the column of your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that left you trembling.

“What, love?” he murmured against your neck, his voice laced with a teasing edge as his hands skimmed your sides again, his thumbs brushing just under the swell of your breasts.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with enough need to make him shiver against you.

His hands tightened on your waist, and he pressed another kiss to your neck before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “Not plannin’ to,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, cheeky grin. “Long as you don’t start shyin’ up on me now.”

His cheeky grin widened as he saw the way your eyes darkened, your breathing uneven, your lips swollen from his kisses. You didn’t hesitate, surging forward to kiss him again, a deep, desperate kiss that left no doubt about what you wanted.

“Noel,” you murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to meet his gaze. There was a hunger in your eyes that made his teasing grin falter for a moment, replaced by something deeper, more serious.

“Yeah, love?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, his hands steady on your hips.

“I want you,” you said, your voice breathy but sure. “I really, really want you.”

He blinked, his expression shifting to something unreadable for a moment. “You sure?” he asked softly, his hands pausing their movements to hold you steady. “I need to know you mean that.”

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as they moved to his chest. “I mean it, Noel. Please.”

His grin returned, softer this time, as his hands slid down to rest on your thighs. “Alright, then,” he said, his tone both teasing and reverent. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, his hands gliding up your thighs to the waistband of your bottoms. His fingers toyed with the fabric for a moment, his grin turning wicked as he felt the heat radiating from you. “Fuckin' hell, love,” he murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with teasing amusement. “You’re soaked already. Didn’t know I had that kinda effect on you.”

You flushed, burying your face in his shoulder with a groan. “Shut up,” you mumbled, but your hips shifted instinctively, pressing against his hands.

“Oh, no, I’m enjoyin’ this far too much to shut up,” he teased, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband to tug your bottoms down slowly. “Guess you’re just as mad for me as I am for you, eh?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way his hands moved, the way he touched you like you were something so precious. He helped you lift your hips to slide your bottoms and underwear off, tossing them aside carelessly before settling back to look at you. His eyes swept over your body with an intensity that made you shiver, a mixture of reverence and desire that left you breathless.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he said, his voice almost reverent as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your stomach, then lower, his lips trailing over your skin in a way that made you tremble.

“Noel,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way back up your body, his hands steady on your hips.

“Alright, love,” he said softly, his tone turning serious as he shifted to align himself with you. “Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?”

You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you looked up at him. “I won’t,” you said, your voice filled with quiet confidence. “I want this. I want you.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you again, his movements slow and deliberate as he pushed into you. The stretch was unfamiliar but not unwelcome, and the way he watched your face, gauging your every reaction, made you feel safe, cherished.

“You alright, love?” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing as he paused to let you adjust.

You nodded, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you exhaled shakily. “Yeah,” you whispered. “You can move.”

He did, starting slow, his movements careful and deliberate as he found a pace that made you gasp. His hands roamed your body, his touch both grounding and electrifying as he whispered soft praises and teasing comments against your ear.

His hips moved with a steady rhythm, but his breaths were erratic, loud moans slipping free despite his best efforts. The sound sent a rush through you, knowing he was as undone as you were. “God,” he groaned, burying his face against your neck.

You arched into him, your hands running down the planes of his back, urging him closer. “Noel,” you gasped, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling gently. “You’re perfect. You’re making me feel so good.”

Your words sent a visible shiver through him. He lifted his head, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of awe and desperation. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly, his vulnerability stark and beautiful.

“Of course I mean it,” you replied, your tone filled with earnest affection. You pressed your forehead to his, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “You’re everything, Noel. Everything.”

His breath hitched, and he leaned down to kiss you, messy and fervent. He moaned against your lips, the sound deep and guttural, making you feel as though you were the only thing holding him together. “Fuck, love,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smiled, pulling him closer with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “And you’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you whispered back, your lips brushing against his. “So good to me, don’t stop, please.”

The praise made him falter for a moment, his rhythm breaking as he let out another moan, this one louder, raw and unrestrained. “God, you’re killin’ me, sayin’ things like that,” he admitted, his tone shaky. His hands gripped your hips as though grounding himself, his breath hitching as he moved deeper.

You clung to him, tilting your head back as waves of pleasure coursed through you. “Noel,” you gasped, unable to stop yourself, “you feel so good, so perfect. Please, don’t stop. I need you.”

His response was almost immediate, his movements growing more urgent as his forehead dropped to your shoulder as he let out another loud, desperate sound. “Christ,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whimper.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as the tension building within you suddenly snapped, another loud cry of his name spilling from your lips. The sound seemed to push him over the edge, his body trembling as he followed, his voice a mix of ragged gasps and broken moans.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled only with the sound of your mingled breaths. Then he looked at you, his cheeks flushed, his expression soft but filled with a shy sort of pride. “You alright?” he asked, his voice still shaky.

You smiled, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “More than alright,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “That was everything, Noel, I love you.”

His lips curved into a small, bashful smile as he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “I love you too” he murmured.

_________________________________________________

Bit long, maybe, but there you go, roadie Noel lovers (I’m right there with ya—give me all the Noel eras tbh).

Just felt like he’d be proper sweet and gentle, takin’ it slow and all that, hope you lot like it xx

#oasis x reader #oasis one shots #oasis band #noel gallagher x reader #britpop x f!reader #britpop x reader #britpop fanfiction #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher x f!reader #noel gallagher smut #noel gallagher fanfiction

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transformers87 · 3 days ago

Note

How does Orion Pax learn the truth (of both the dead of the Primes and why Sentinel raises him the way he did) and how does he manage to defeat both Sentinel and his fear towards him?

Does D-16 still become Megatron?

Yes D-16 still becomes Megatron…. This is still an ongoing process!! I am still at the rough draft of the whole story plot!… i just dunno how to piece it together yet.

Sentinel did told him a half hearted truth about the deaths of Orion’s older siblings and about the energon being cut and bots being born without cogs etc…. And he told Orion that he does not know where their bodies have been buried… and told him that no bot cogless or not is ever allowed in the surface…

Orion would then question his father as to why they had to close of the whole archives from the mass public… and he would ask why does the cogless mech have to mine for more energon if they are far more vulnerable than those who do have cogs… why is everyone not allowed on the surface?….where does his father go whenever he, Archinid and his followers go to when they arrive at the surface?

All those questions Orion kept asking… had boiled Sentinel in anger and he snaps… “i am your father and u will do as i say”.. and he storms off leaving a scared Orion behind.

This both bothers Orion by the lack of info from his father and the wanting to know more… but can’t due to the more guards escorting him from whatever task his father saw fit for him to do while Sentinel goes to wherever the hell he pleases.

When nighttime came Orion found a secret passage that was hidden within his room/chamber…. Another secret that the original 13 had made in case the enemy tried to invade Orion’s room when he was still a newborn sparkling…. Back to the present… Orion now uses this as a way to sneak out at night and to the closed off archives to learn as much as he could bout the war… and about his lost siblings…. Anything to know bout the matrix and to finally show poof to Sentinel that he’s not a little sparkling anymore.

During all of this… in Orion’s fourth or fifth attempt in sneaking into the archives he again crashed into D-16 who was also wanting to find answers… D-16 was caught by the security drones and was in hot pursuit when crashing into Orion again… this happened before the race mind you.

Seeing this Orion helped Dee escape and avoid the drones and help hide Dee into his chambers… in hopes to let things cool down a bit before he could help Dee find away back to the mines and other miners.

From there… and from Dee’s words.. Orion learns that his father was not in line with the truth… and wanted to know more… so he made a deal with Dee that he will use his ability to help Dee and the others as best as he could.

When in the cave.. or the tomb of the primes is where Orion learned the actual truth… the group found Alpha Trion and woke him back online… after being disoriented and locked eyes with Orion he tackles him in an embrace calling him Optimus and yeah… a huge shocking family reunion between Orion and Trion… and a heavy truth bomb….

That Sentinel killed Orion’s siblings and took their newborn sparkling as a way to find and control the matrix… and yeah

Orion was too filled with grief, and betrayal that he doesn’t know how to feel… even when being caught by the high guard and later by his father’s followers…. He was just in a daze like shock… just what do i do? Sorta feelings when all of it hit him

Sorry bout all that rambling… 🥲😅

#ask the last true prime au #last true prime orion pax #tf au #tf one #tfone airachnid #tfone sentinel #the last true prime au #transformers cybertron #asks are open #d 16 #b 127 #elita one #alpha trion #orion pax

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sierra-touge-bitch · 2 days ago

Text

OKAY SO APPARENTLY LIKE THE LAST THIRD GOT CUT OFF (I guess there's a character limit I just leaned about??) HERE'S THE REST OF IT

@initialdsecretsanta @toffiendfee

Oh yeah, today was Christmas. Takumi didn't really celebrate the holiday, and failed to notice the lights and garlands around the Takahashis' house.

"Uh, sure."

"I'll get you some breakfast too. Sit tight."

For some reason every time Takumi talked to Ryosuke, he always felt... intimidated? And here he was in his house being catered to. His face felt a little warm once Ryosuke left the room.

Keisuke was just standing and staring aimlessly in the kitchen. He didn't know if the crash or Takumi coming to pick him up was more embarrassing. Ryosuke walked in and noticed his brother acting strangely. Perhaps Keisuke had gotten a head injury.

"Keisuke, go sit with Fujiwara while I cook. I'm grateful to him for bringing you back."

"I can't do that, he's... him."

"That was the worst excuse I've ever heard. Go sit down and I'll get you some water."

Keisuke reluctantly went to the couch and sat a reasonable distance away from Takumi. He looked at him and all he could think was "warm," but it would be weird if he just leaned against him.

Takumi decided to break the ice.

"How're you feeling?"

"Head hurts."

"So what happened, if I may ask?"

"..."

Keisuke didn't want to be hostile, but he didn't want to tell Takumi what happened, either. Seeing the car under the guardrail should have been explanatory enough.

"I went over my limit. I didn't realize how much snow there was. I lost control and crashed," Keisuke eventually said.

"Don't be too down on yourself about it, I've done it too. I blew the engine on the 86 a while ago. It happens to everyone," Takumi tried to sympathize.

"... I guess." After the whole ordeal, Keisuke felt more like he could talk to Takumi and see him as more than a rival. It felt nicer this way.

"Refreshments for the two aces," Ryosuke announced as he entered the room with the cocoa and water.

"Hell's that supposed to mean? And why don't I get cocoa?" Keisuke complained in a whiny manner.

"Because you injured your head. Just water for you." Ryosuke set the cups down on the table and walked back into the kitchen.

Keisuke slightly put his arms out in protest, but his brother had already left the room. He looked at Takumi who seemed to be spacing out, then grabbed the mug of cocoa and took a sip. Takumi looked back towards him, and Keisuke just innocently looked away.

"You can have some if you want, I don't mind," Takumi nudged the mug a bit towards Keisuke.

"Nah, it's fine. It burned my tongue anyway."

After a few minutes of occasional exchanged glances and Keisuke sneaking more cocoa from Takumi, Ryosuke called the two to join him at the table.

Takumi was hungry. The smell of the food made his mouth water. He immediately got up and walked to the table (can't look too excited).

Keisuke groaned as he got up from the couch and followed Takumi. Ryosuke was sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of food and another on each side of him. Takumi and Keisuke sat down opposite each other, the former intensely staring at the enticing dish in front of him.

"Fujiwara, I want to thank you again for bringing Keisuke home. And Keisuke, I'm happy to see you safe. I hope my special Christmas breakfast doesn't disappoint." Ryosuke gave a little speech before Takumi dug into his omelette. "Hungry, aren't you?"

Takumi looked up with his mouth full and his cheeks red. He gave a quick nod, slowing down his eating.

Keisuke picked at his food. He didn't really have an appetite.

"Keisuke, is something wrong? You normally love omelettes. Did your injury take away your appetite?" Ryosuke asked.

"I dunno. Probably. Fujiwara.... thanks for helping me." Keisuke replied awkwardly.

Takumi looked up again from his now empty plate.

"Oh, it was nothing. I just wanted to help, that's all," he said, scratching the back of his head. He thought about how soft Keisuke's hair had felt earlier and wanted to reach out and grab it again, but he suppressed the urge.

"Well, if it's okay, I'm gonna head home now. My dad's probably wondering why I'm so late."

"My apologies. It was nice having you here with Keisuke. If you have to go, then I'll let you." Ryosuke had just finished his plate as well. He stacked Takumi's on top of his.

"Thanks for the breakfast. And I hope you feel better, Keisuke." Takumi got up and walked towards the front door to put his shoes on.

"Don't be a stranger. Call me if you ever need anything. And let me know when you decide about the expeditionary team."

Takumi looked back at the brothers for a moment. When he'd first met them, they were just other street racers, but now he saw them more as really nice guys, if not more than that. He blushed a little when he caught himself staring. Hopefully they invited him over more often. Before he turned around, Keisuke gave him a nod.

The sun's rays broke through the fog as Takumi walked outside towards the 86. The snow on the ground began to sparkle with the new light. Now he had to drive back home and explain to his dad what happened. He already missed the warmth of the Takahashi house. Maybe if he joined Ryosuke's team, the three would be able to spend more time together and have more moments like that. Takumi looked forward to it.

@toffiendfee here is your Secret Santa gift! Sorry if it's not great, I've never really written fanfic before lmao

Anyway...

Blood on Fire

(This takes place around Third Stage)

The heat of summer, although long, never lasts forever. Eventually it fades away into the relentless season of cold and bitterness. To most spirited drivers, winter is a time to rest, ponder, and plan for upcoming endeavors to take place once the ice begins to thaw. But for others, the constant yearning to better their skills outweighs any care about conditions and risks.

Especially for Keisuke Takahashi. He had been considered the fastest driver in the Gunma locale, tearing up the roads with his Mazda RX-7 FD3S. Racers and enthusiasts feared him. He was incredibly skilled, second only to his older brother, Ryosuke. Although Ryosuke was his roadblock between being Gunma's greatest racer, Keisuke did not see him as such. His older bro was someone to look up to, to emulate, to learn from. After all, Ryosuke was the one who led him and raised him into the world of touge racing. Keisuke had the privilege of learning straight from the best, the unbeatable. What more could he ask for?

However, just this past summer, his exaltations of his beloved brother were shattered. His invincible mentor, the best street racer he knew, was dethroned by a junky 15 year old Toyota Corolla driven by a young kid who looked to be half asleep. But Keisuke dealt with more than just the sting of Ryosuke's upsetting loss. He was the one who was beaten by him first. His 350 horsepower rotary engine was made out as a joke by this random guy who just showed up one day in his shitbox.

And it would never happen again.

Winter was coming. To most enthusiasts, this is a time to take a break and maybe do some upgrades and maintenance. To Keisuke? Any time not spent out on the road was time wasted. If he was going to prove he was the fastest driver, he needed to spend every second possible improving his technique.

"Keisuke, I'm impressed with how much you've been practicing lately. But you're allowed to take a day off, you know. It's Christmas Eve."

The blond grabbed his keys and was just about to head out the door when he heard the voice of his older brother in the next room. He slowed his pace towards the garage upon hearing him, pondering his words. He'd been in the driver's seat of his FD just about every free second he had. Maybe he did deserve a break.

But he couldn't. Any idle time meant time not spent practicing. He couldn't let the tofu boy surpass him. He had to get out on the road. Nothing was going to stand in his way. He glanced back intently at Ryosuke with his hand on the doorknob.

"Aniki, I can't. Sorry."

That was all he said to his concerned brother before he quickly exited into the garage. There was a certain fire about his eyes, a fierce glow of sought revenge and determination. Even if it killed him, he was going to keep driving nonstop until his fated rematch.

The FD's rotary engine hesitated for a second to start in the cold, but after giving it a little bit of throttle it fired up. Keisuke hardly gave the car a chance to warm up before dashing away on the street. His boiling emotions were drowned out by the roar of the 13B engine as it screamed down the road toward the domain of his rival.

The sun was long gone by the time Keisuke left the Takahashi household. Darkness covered the world around him, hazed by a layer of light fog. Some snow lay on the ground, but the roads had been plowed recently, leaving them clear. It was quite cold outside as well, but Keisuke was kept plenty warm inside his car by the heater and his burning rage.

The determined Takahashi didn't even hesitate when he reached the bottom of Mount Akina. He knew what he was here to do, and he was gonna get it done. The FD began charging up the mountain. Although his opponent stood no chance against him uphill, making it unnecessary to practice, Keisuke knew that the quicker he got to the top, the more time he had for downhill runs. He continued his climb, expertly rounding the five consecutive hairpins. His control over the Mazda RX-7 was near perfect. He could feel every shift in weight, every loss in grip, every braking point, every apex. Since the end of summer, he had been obsessively running up and down Mount Akina. He basically knew every corner by this point.

About halfway up the mountain, Keisuke felt like he was more in the zone than he had ever been on any other practice run. Maybe because it was a holiday, and only those who are extremely dedicated to their craft wouldn't be lazing the day away. As fog started to form on the windshield, he cranked up the defroster to the highest setting. The temperature was beginning to rapidly drop outside, and the wind picked up. Even at his speed, Keisuke could feel the wind nudging him from side to side. There was a faint voice in the back of his mind telling him that the weather could keep getting worse, and that he should call it a night after his downhill run and head home. But why should he? Any good driver should be able to handle any sort of road conditions, no matter how bad. He silenced the nagging in his head with the sound of his engine.

Entry, brake, apex, accelerate. Brake, slide, power out. This line will set up the next. Perfect.

Keisuke couldn't be more in tune to his driving than he was at that moment. Every move felt natural. He was riding a rollercoaster operated by his nonconscious. His body instinctively guided the car up the road, reaching the mountaintop with adrenaline coursing through his veins. With no hesitation, he whipped the car around and began flying down the hill, not wanting to lose his high from the run up. Nothing could break his concentration at this point. Not even the snowflakes beginning to accumulate in his field of vision.

Back at the Takahashi home, Ryosuke stood by his window watching the snow fall and quickly stick to the ground, blanketing the town in a soft field of white after only a few minutes. Although he had previously emphasized snow as being excellent for driving practice, the raven-haired man couldn't help but worry about his younger brother. He stared out from his bedroom watching the flurry on the other side of the glass. It was becoming near impossible to see across the street in the whiteout. He resisted the impulse to check the weather forecast. No matter what it said, he wouldn't be able to contact Keisuke in the thick of it. The cold emanating from the window bit at his nose. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

The yellow blur continued barreling down Mount Akina at his usual insane speed, caught up in the wind of his driving and ignoring the road in front of him turning white. Sure, Keisuke noticed the tires losing grip as he cornered, but he would instinctually correct any slide he found himself in. If he could master snow, then what could he possibly have to fear in his driving career? If anything, this was more of a perk to him than a hurdle. He opened the throttle a little more as he hit a straighter section, the shout of the rotary engine further fueling him like a high-energy song. The twin turbos spooled up in harmony with the howling wind.

The FD shot towards the five consecutive hairpins like a bullet. Keisuke knew in his mind exactly where he should start braking. He pictured the upcoming turn in his head and pushed the pedal in. As he did so, his rear tires gave up their traction. A pang of fear shot throughout his entire body as his car lost grip. The tires glided on the slick snow as the FD rocketed straight towards the outside of the corner. At this speed, he couldn't possibly regain control.

He did it, he broke his limit.

The last thing Keisuke felt at that moment was a sharp pain in his head.

The RX-7 came to an abrupt stop wedged underneath the guardrail of the first hairpin. After only a couple minutes, the snow absorbed the bright yellow car into the rest of the scenery.

"Up and at 'em, sleepyhead. Your alarm went off 15 minutes ago."

"Crap, did I oversleep?!" Takumi nearly jumped out of bed at the sound at his dad's voice. By the time he aligned himself with reality, the old man had already left the room. "So cold..." Takumi shivered after emerging from underneath his cozy blanket. He looked out the window as he usually does, but couldn't see much through the dense fog apart from the subtle bloom of the street lights. He dragged himself down the stairs, feeling like he'd rather just fall and let himself slide the rest of the way. Something about cold, gloomy weather makes him sleepier than usual. Probably because anyone with an ounce of sanity wouldn't be awake, let alone outside, in this.

When Takumi stepped out the door, some flakes were still gently falling from the abyssal sky. He fought with the door of the 86 for a second before yanking it open and stumbling backwards in the snow. His cold hands turned the ignition key to bring the AE86 out of its short-lived hibernation. The engine struggled to get going, but eventually started up after a few cranks. Desperate for some warmth while the car warmed up, Takumi stood at the exhaust pipe exit. He held his frigid hands out in front of it to attempt to regain some feeling in them until the car was warm enough for the heater to work.

He could only stand being out in the elements for about a minute before leaving his source of warmth and retreating back to the driver's seat of the 86. He shook the snow out of his hair before sitting down. He leaned his face against the steering wheel eyeing the coolant temperature gauge, waiting for it to begin moving. He could have passed out right there if the knock at the window didn't jolt him awake. His dad opened the door and handed him the paper cup.

"You know the drill, don't spill the water. And no sleeping at the wheel."

"Yeah, okay," Takumi replied sleepily, grabbing the cup and putting it into the cup holder. He closed the door, put the car in gear, and turned onto the street towards the mountain. Once he was on the road, his focus was more tuned in to the drive. About an inch of snow covered the pavement. Snow was no problem for the Fujiwara boy; delivering tofu every single day no matter how bad the road was made him quite the seasoned driver. The Trueno's studded tires kicked up snow behind them as Takumi opened the throttle. He started his trek up Akina's mountain road. Everyone thought his car was ridiculously fast, like a monster was under the hood, but the drawbacks of the 4A-GE became crystal clear on an uphill climb. As the road became windy, though, Takumi unleashed his immaculate cornering ability, sliding through the snow like a crazy horse-drawn sleigh.

He glided towards the consecutive hairpins, taking care to not be too rough as to not ruin his fragile cargo. If anything were to happen to the tofu, Bunta was sure to do the same to Takumi's brain. The water rode the inside rim of the paper cup and threatened to splash out. Even with the challenge of not spilling the water, Takumi learned to control the car to keep it steady while also maintaining a quick pace. The five consecutive hairpin turns proved to be a challenge early on in his driving career with the back-to-back weight shifting. Through years of practice, though, the section became second nature to him.

As the 86 began to round the last left hairpin, Takumi noticed a snowbank sticking out into the road that wasn't normally there. He knew where piles of snow usually show up in storms, but here wasn't one of the normal spots. As he continued around the corner, a subtle flash of yellow caught his eye. He briefly thought about his race a few months ago with Keisuke Takahashi and his brilliant yellow FD. He shook his head to himself, it couldn't be it, why would it be here now, off the side of the road nonetheless? He kept telling himself he'd just imagined it, but the thought lingered in his head. Besides, if he were to stop right now, the tofu delivery would be late. He'd see if it was still there on his way down.

The snow on the pavement became deeper with the elevation gain. Knowledge was keeping Takumi on the road more than being able to see the course itself. When he recognized he was coming up on the lake, a small sigh of relief came out of his mouth. Snow driving wasn't anything new to him, but God, was it a chore. He pulled up to the hotel, popped the hatch, and brought the tofu inside. Walking back to the car made Takumi wish he had better snow shoes since his feet were getting a little chilly. He got back in the panda Trueno and blasted the heater to thaw his toes. Maybe next time he'll stop at Itsuki's and see if he has any plastic bags to keep his shoes dry.

Takumi began his downhill drive once feeling returned to his feet. Without the numbness plaguing his mind, the mound of snow at the hairpin took over his thinking. Something just felt off to him. What if something had happened to Keisuke? He was pretty rude, sure, but he would never wish anything like that upon him.

The hairpin approached and the snow pile remained. The dawn sun slightly illuminated the foggy landscape. Now it was obvious that there was in fact a snow-covered FD with a giant wing on that corner. Takumi pulled over and put on his hazard lights (in case anyone was insane enough to be driving on this road in this weather). The water slowly seeping into his shoes didn't matter now. As Takumi neared the car, he brushed the snow off the driver window.

The blond young man laid there in his seat with his head resting on the steering wheel, motionless. The front end of the RX-7 was smashed up from being pushed under the guardrail. The body work was definitely going to be expensive, but there were bigger things to worry about.

Reluctantly, Takumi knocked on the window in some feeble attempt to wake the unconscious driver. No response came. He then reached for the door handle and pulled it. The front of the door scraped against the fender and let out a crack as the teenager broke the icy seal keeping it shut. His hand approached the older man's shoulder.

"SHIT!" Keisuke yelled the second Takumi's hand made contact with him. Immediately, Takumi jumped back, hitting his head on the door frame.

"Ah, sorry! Ow..." Takumi rubbed his head from the impact. Keisuke was wide awake now. He looked at who just tapped him. Once it struck him who it was, he looked straight at the windshield to avoid eye contact.

"Hey man, are you okay? I thought I saw your car on my delivery so I figured I'd..."

"Shut up. This is your fault." Keisuke uttered silently.

"WHAT?! What did I do?!" Wow. You come to help a fellow racer you've met before and the first thing he does is attack you.

"You're the reason I'm here. You beat me not once, but twice. And my brother. And then you just go winning every challenge you come across like you're the main character or something. I've been running up here every chance I get. Because one day I'm gonna beat you. Here. I'm gonna show you that I'm not just another win on your list. I'm more of a racer than you'll ever be! You're just a stupid kid! In a shitty excuse for a car! How can you even..." His tone began to shift from anger to sadness, "just my damn luck, I swear," Keisukes head lowered. He tried to sniffle quietly so his rival, at his car door, wouldn't hear. He failed.

"Listen, I just came here to help you. Are you hurt? I can take you to a hospital," Takumi was much more focused on Keisuke's well-being than any of the words just shouted at him.

The blond didn't even flinch. His arm was covering his face. He said nothing. It was clear the greatest injury he sustained was to his pride.

"Come on, get in my car. I'll take you home if you want."

"..."

"...please."

Keisuke barely whimpered out the word. There wasn't anything to hide anymore. He'd showed all his weakness to his enemy, who was trying to help him. Nothing to lose now. He took Takumi's hand that was offered to him. A wave of relief and comfort washed over him as he felt the warmth of his hand. He stepped out of the car and leaned on Takumi as they walked towards the idling 86. Through the pounding of his head, all Keisuke could think about was how warm his human crutch was. His feet moved by themselves until the two men got to the white and black hatchback.

Takumi guided Keisuke to lean on the car while he opened the door. Before he walked around to the driver's side, he reached up to ruffle the snow out of Keisuke's hair. Keisuke just stared at Takumi with a tired but confused look.

"Dad doesn't like when the seats get wet," Takumi said after an awkward period of silence. He got into the driver's seat and began driving slowly down the mountain.

The drive was almost completely silent aside from Keisuke giving one-word directions to the Takahashi house. Not many people were on the road since most were spending Christmas with their families. As they pulled up to the house, Takumi parked in the street. He took a look at the house and stared in awe. He knew the Takahashis were rich, but their house looked like something he'd only see in a movie. He and Keisuke, now fully awake, walked up to the front door. Takumi knocked.

"You don't have to do that, this is my house." Keisuke opened the door and went inside. "You can come inside if you want. Aniki's probably making breakfast or something."

Takumi stood blankly at the door for a second before the offer processed in his head. As he stepped inside the house, he was entranced by how clean and fancy it was. Words couldn't describe the feeling of being invited into such a rich house. It was quite humbling.

"You can go sit on the couch," Keisuke gestured towards the most comfortable piece of furniture Takumi had ever seen in his life. It called to him. He nonconsciously drifted towards it like it was pulling him in. He plopped onto the cushions and sunk right in. He could have fallen asleep right there if he wasn't kept awake by the nerve of being in Keisuke and Ryosuke's house. They both are so rich, so skilled, so good-looking...

Ryosuke got himself dressed and came down the stairs upon hearing his brother's voice. He'd been silently worrying about him all night, especially considering he'd not been home at his usual time.

"Good morning, Keisuke. How was last night's run?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Keisuke responded from in the kitchen. He was rummaging through the fridge for something to snack on.

"Alright, I won't pry. If you're hungry, I'll cook something for you," Ryosuke playfully nudged his younger brother away from the fridge.

Keisuke rubbed his head in response with a light groan.

"Come on, be careful. My head hurts."

Ryosuke's expression turned from a smile to one of concern.

"Did something happen last night?" He asked sternly.

"I lost control on a corner and ran off the road. Fujiwara woke me up and took me home."

"Oh, Fujiwara. Is he here now?"

"He's on the couch."

Ryosuke walked over to the couch and was greeted with Takumi's wide eyes staring right at him.

"Ah, Fujiwara, good morning. I see you brought my brother here?"

Takumi was like a deer in the headlights at the shock of Ryosuke talking to him. It wasn't even near the first time they'd spoken. Ryosuke had asked him a few weeks prior in person to join an expeditionary team while he was at work, as well as asking how to get in contact with Kyoichi Sudo. Talking to him in person definitely felt a lot more awkward than over the phone, but even just his presence was enough to get Takumi anxious.

"Oh! Uh, yeah. I saw his car on the side of the road and went to go help him, and I offered to bring him home. The car doesn't look too good, though."

"I thank you for that. I was concerned about him driving in this storm. Don't worry about the FD, we'll take care of it. Would you like some hot chocolate? It's a good Christmas drink."

Oh yeah, today was Christmas. Takumi didn't really celebrate the holiday, and failed to notice the lights and garlands around th

#keisuke ryosuke takumi part 2

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nothingbizzare · 2 months ago

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Taking off a costume

#nothingbizzare art #artist on tumblr #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 fanart #mob psycho fanart #kageyama shigeo #shigeo kageyama #i dunno i was just feeling a little bit like this

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grandstarlightmagazine · 6 days ago

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Taking off a costume…(Read More)

#nothingbizzare art #artist on tumblr #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 fanart #mob psycho fanart #kageyama shigeo #shigeo kageyama #i dunno i was just feeling a little bit like this

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somegrumpynerd · 1 month ago

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Ah yes, very mature indeed

I love these two getting far enough into their truce to annoy each other playfully, Dream is great at it immediately but it's good to see Nightmare starting to take part too

And don't worry, Dream did get revenge

#UTDR #UTMV #My Art #Dream Sans #Nightmare Sans #This is 100% self indulgent just for me art #But you guys can look at it too if you want #No background because I'm ~lazy~ today lol #Nightmare has a slow start on the brotherly teasing situation but he gets into it pretty easily #Usually using his tentacles to be a pest until Dream starts chasing him or (non-lethally) fighting him #I dunno I just think it's nice when they annoy each other for fun #And get to act like kids again for a little bit instead of being Important Guardians TM #Also Blue and Ink got him that sweater #Ink asked Error to make one for him and Blue insisted it had to be purple because he knows it's Dream's favourite colour #Nightmare doesn't feel temperature very much because the goop kinda insulates him but he did zip up his hoodie for appearances

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sysig · 1 year ago

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Those wacky skeletons ♥ (Patreon)

#Doodles #UT #Sans #Papyrus #Handplates #You can tell because of Sans' gloves lol #Getting-used-to-them-again doodles as well as just expressing Feeling <3 Happy towards them! Want them to be happy too!#It might seem silly for these - how many sets in now? - to still be getting used to drawing them again lol but it's because they're adults!#Their clothes and the way they hold themselves - but also especially Sans lol I dunno why I have such difficulty with him at times #He's got a cute face and I still find myself like ????how your face #Other than that tho it's just silliness hehe ♪ My favourite lads :D #I feel the need to make the distinction: I do actually have different favourites based on the AU lol #Like for example in classic I still love Flowey just a tiiiiiny bit more than Papyrus but it really is constantly neck and neck #Whereas in Handplates it's no competition even a little bit lol - Papyrus is just my Very Favourite #But Gaster is my favourite Handplates-specific character since he's unique to the AU! It gets a bit in the weeds lol #Sans isn't far behind at all of course the trio are very important! The duo even moreso imo #Going back to gloves tho I did carry over one of my quirks from my original UT doodles about Papyrus' gloves lol #I initially envisioned them as combination mitten-gloves with a free index finger and all the rest together #I still rather like the design! But it is admittedly not Handplates accurate lol #The occasional dip into self-indulgence who me? Lol #Sleeping on each other is important to me as well!! It is such a favourite hehe #Honestly I just imagined Papyrus getting so exhausted that he fell asleep in the snow lol poor lad #Sans teleported in but it's also funny to imagine him just walking up like ''you good? yeah he's fine'' *flop* haha #Silly lads <3 Do love 'em ♪

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stoppingo1k · 3 months ago

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been sitting on these pages for a long while, but im still very proud of the mood setup. looking back at it, im not super happy with how the overall story progression is written so i figure itd be better to spend the energy working on other things at the moment

#club penguin #ph club penguin #dot the disguise gal #rookie club penguin #gary the gadget guy #jet pack guy #stoppy.png #the plot for this one was really wild lmfao #ideally with any of my comics you should feel at least a Little bit of cringe while reading it #thats the point baybeyyy #but i dunno even this one was a little too weird for me #theres insane tonal shift like every 2 pages hahaha. but maybe ill work on it slowly #just havent had the motivation for long stuff since iykyk

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arandomferretsthoughts · 6 months ago

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This popped into my brain and wouldnt leave so I wanted to share it with yall

—

A young boy and his parents are attacked on the street, only the boy makes it out.

It's a rare occurrence, an event like this, the police find the man and arrest him and everyone else is safe.

Bruce Wayne goes home to a mansion that feels larger and lonelier than ever, with only his butler to take care of him.

And yet the young boy finds himself too afraid to leave for more than necessities.

The young boy grows into a young man, he inherits his parents business and starts to leave his house a little more, unwilling to lose this connection to his lost parents but still he finds himself afraid, afraid to be around people, to be seen.

Until one day at a gala he must attend for the sake of the shareholders, he sees a man, a reporter, who holds himself in an odd way, clearly a tall and strong man who could be intimidating if he tried but the man held himself as if to appear smaller and unassuming, Bruce's brain flitters across the idea that the man is hiding something, or more hiding himself.

His brain that has soaked up comics and movies for years so as to not grow bored in his home.

And when he learns of all the good this reporter has been trying to do, he thinks the man would make a good superhero.

When he goes home the thought wont leave him alone, he thinks of a world with a hero, a world that needs a hero, one where his parents murder would have just been one of many, but this hero wouldn't have been there to help, he was too bright, a hero for the daytime, not for the shadows of night.

He thinks maybe he could have been a hero in this world, one that saves other kids from suffering a fate like his own.

One who is afraid and fights anyway.

The next time he leaves his home there's an event at a museum, with some special objects that are in town for a few days. There he sees a woman who knows so much about ancient relics and is so beautiful that he doesn't believe she could be just a normal human.

He thinks she would share her knowledge and kindness with the world given the chance.

While he remains mostly alone, other than his Parental figure/Butler, he also keeps in contact with two friends from when he was in school.

One is now a psychiatrist, with an interest in learning about fear and how it can change people, and the other a psychologist, both working at the city's asylum.

Harleen is who Bruce considers his best friend, a goofy but kind girl who cares alot about others, she tells him about a patient, without going into much detail, who she claims would be cute if he wasn't so insane. Smiling and laughing while he talks about harming others.

She got a boyfriend somewhere along the way, a man Bruce is sure abuses her but she can't seem to leave.

The three get in a fight one day, and lose contact, and Bruce supposes you can't have heroes without villains, though he can't bring himself to think of Harley as a villain by her own choice.

On the news Bruce learns of a man working to better science as they know it, a man who always seems to be a few minutes too late, he follows the story until the day something goes wrong and the man is there on time to shield workers from flying chemicals, killing him but saving others, Bruce thinks the man a hero in death, and could have been one in life, one who always made it to where he was needed just on time.

As time went on Bruce tried to get out more in normal ways, one night he went to the circus, he enjoyed it, reminding him of the day when he was little and his parents brought him to one just like it.

It was a few days later that he learned at the next show there was an accident, and a little boy lost his parents, he remembered being small and feeling alone when he had lost his, thankful for the man who cared for him he wished he could do the same for this little boy, but knew he didn't have the skills needed.

He could, however, make sure the boy got somewhere safe, and other kids like him too.

So he held a fundraiser and donated a lot of money into the foster system, doing what he could to make it safe.

And he thought of a world where he could have taken the little circus boy into his home, making it brighter and less lonely.

As he ventured out more and more Bruce travelled through different parts of the city, he saw a group of little children cowering behind one bigger who had just chased off a grown man, Bruce smiled as the kids cheered for the little hero.

It was the news that later told him the boy was dead, a homeless kid who stopped being seen, the little hero was gone.

Bruce held another fundraiser, this one for the homeless shelters and kitchens.

It was the news that told him the boy was not dead, found by the police, with other stolen children.

Children that returned to a better place.

The day he lost his last parent is the day where he began to feel truly alone, the only person there for him gone, but Alfred would live forever in his memory's as the man who loved and cared for him.

He reached out to Harly again not wanting to be all alone, and they made up, he learned she had gotten free of her abusive boyfriend and had fallen for a woman who's love of nature was refreshing and new.

He knew little about his neighbours, but he tried to get to know them better, he struggled but eventually learned that the woman that lived there was very sick and that the man was not home much, when he learned of the child who spent so much of his time alone, he thought the kid was brave and told him if he ever needed anything to just ask.

The kid needed someone the day when his mother didn't wake up and his father wasn't home. Bruce did what he could, he was no father but he cared for the kid the best he could until his was able to return.

Bruce knew it was expected of him to have a family, someone to give his things and his business when he passed. He tried dating, but nothing ever seemed to work out.

However one day he learned of a child, a son, one the mother hadn't told him about, he tried to gain any sort of parental rights but couldn't get any custody, only visitation, he met the boy, a quiet but fiercely determined child, And he loved his son even without seeing him much.

When the quiet, hermit, billionaire Bruce Wayne, best known for appearing, donating large amounts of money to random causes and then disappearing again, passed away his belongings and company were to be split between two people, Timothy Drake, and Damian al Ghul, when the two met up to split his things, they found writings the man had never told anyone of.

Writings of a world where regular people became heroes, where aliens walked amongst humans, and where magic made lives exciting.

They agreed to publish the story's for the world to see.

To most people, the writings were just an entertaining fiction story that a billionaire wrote with his unlimited free time.

But to the retired reporter who knew his height frightened others, who now rested and found the stories learned that someone had seen how he stood, and what he had done and thought of him as a hero,

To the artefact collector and preserver who learned this man believed she was so knowledgeable about what she had strived to learn everything about, as well as beautiful, that he thought her to be blessed by the gods,

To the old psychologist who mourns her friend, a man who thought that no matter what she went through she'd always make the right choice in the end,

To the family of a man who lost his life saving others, who this guy they had never met thought so highly of,

To the man that lost his only family to an accident at their circus, he was a man who wanted him get a good home, where'd he'd get anything he ever wanted,

To a man that went through so much, believed dead for so long to learn this man who he had only seen once, saw him not as a poor homeless kid but as a fighter and protector,

To the boy that new the man for a short time, as a temporary guardian and protector, who made him feel safe and not alone when he needed it most,

And To the boy who wished he could have known his father, but was kept away by his mother,

The storys showed to them all that this man, who some thought of as cold and egotistical, as he locked himself away and refused to be around others, was actually an anxious, lonely man, who saw what others didn't and cared about everyone in his own odd way.

—

I just thought it was a cool idea I wanted to share with yall, so I hope you guys like it

This is my first post on here, so please be nice,

Also, ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes Dyslexia goes brrr

If you want to know what I think he based the other heroes and character off of, just ask, and I'll figure it out!

Thanks for reading, and have a good day!

Edit:

Thanks for all the nice comments and reblogs :)

I genuinely didn't realize how sad this was, lol. Sorry, not sorry, guys

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