#Highway Racer

[hirocimacruiser]

Mark II based Highway Racer.

Pushing out the best! Well, the base is 160 year model

Koji Matsumoto (made by Wakayama Prefecture Mark II

Appeared in 12/10 issue

▲At first glance, you might think it's a Diamante!?, but in fact, the tail of the Celsior is incorporated into the air scoop of the Mark II Pulsar G TI-R, and the power far surpasses that of Porsche's Koenig, which was the target. The remodeling cost of 2,500,000 yen isn't too much!

[eyvindm]

Highway Racer Post Mortem

I have really enjoyed developing "Highway Racer". I've used a few new elements in GDevelop that I have not used previously. I feel like my code is getting cleaner for every new game i make.

I had to make separate groups for the cars going in the same direction and the ones in the opposite direction to make them spawn on in the correct lanes. Late on I had to make a new group with all of the cars to be able to easier count the score. The score mechanic was a bit tricky to implement, but I eventually got it working. To count the highscores I had to use both scene and global variables.

Overall I've learned a lot. I'm getting better at using the tricks from previous projects to faster implement features in this new game. Can't wait for the next project!

After you crash, you get a 5second screen before it restarts. If you got a new highscore it will tell you, and update the highscore top left. When the countdown reaches 0, the game starts over.

[boanerges20]

Motolove

[daisyducklover2021]

Donald's Roadster had Broken down

[dimalink]

Ritchie Blackmore, guitar of music band Deep Purple. For me this musician will be a highway star. And I very deep associate his personality with this song. In someway, this videoclip and a song – it is a thing that represents Deep Purple. For some period of time – absolutely for sure it was like this. A big hit strike track. With excellent video. I like this song a lot. This song is – Highway Star.

And I remember a videogame with same title. Highway Star. Also, this videogame is well known as a Rad Racer. It is another title for same game. So, it was a cool moment, to get the idea that there is also a song with same title! I and my bro – we like this racing game a lot. I can say, we like to ride with a wind! With our style, with 8 bit style! It was all the time – interesting point – to know what is next. And what is next – so far – beyond the horizon. And what it will be a next level. Second level is very beautiful in this game – night city. And first – it is classical. Desert and palms.

And by the way, I made a series of funny pictures – about this videogame. Ritchie Blackmore – it is a mysterious musician for me. I say – musician. Not a rock guitarist, front man, singer, and I say a certain – musician. I see him as a musician at the first time. Yes, and also a rockstar. Also. It is a lucky combination. And according to some things, I don not understand everything, of course. How it is as real things, what is it about some events. So, you know, for music listener to hear that such saucerful rock guitarist left the Deep Purple – it was very amazing news. It is still amazing up to these days.

And it goes a change music genre. About a folk music. And very different type of music. And later to know that he listens a classical music. And he has, if I am not wrong, 2000 cds with music like folk, classic. Something like that I heard. It is more than a mystery. But it shows a certain musician.

But for me, as a music listener, I want a rock album to hear, some rock. Guitar such album. Like Yingwie Malmsteem. But with another sound. Like theme – ride with a wind! Well, such a dream.

[screampied]

#OOHMAMI! g. suguru

☆ sum. cuban link, diamond cross—you’re a big fan of suguru geto, the top street racer in tokyo. he doesn’t wanna win any more races, he wants to win you this time. keep at it and he might have to fuck you on the highway.

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, suguru has a (dick) piercing / tats, semi-public, riding, brief ōral (f! receiving), you get eaten out his window lol, overstim, dirty talk, praise, size kink, impact play, petnames, drive safe.

an. chase atlantic inspired me ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

“you, yeah you. wanna ride?”

stop thinking dirty, stop thinking dir—

you stop dead in your tracks, hearing the deafening vrooming of a certain nissan skyline gtr along with a raspy deep voice. you knew that voice, in fact you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the suguru geto, infamous street racer who’s won more races around the world than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his dark purple helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.

“really?” you mumble, barely even pressed up against his tinted window and you could smell his loud rich cologne from there. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. geto’s got pretty long tresses of black hair that’s usually down, but in every race it’s always pinned back. a few loose strands run down his face, peeking out of his helmet and his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘s. geto’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.

“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his silvery flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the flashy racer’s seat flies open on its on, and you step in. “i take it you’re here to see the race?”

no, no you weren’t.

you couldn’t lie to yourself—you were here to see the race, but you were to here to see geto also. you’ve only seen him during his interviews, magazines, and sometimes on tv where his races would be broadcasted for the entire world to see.

but, you managed to snag enough money to actually see him in the flesh.

without a second thought you make your way inside. on the inside, you were screaming. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream. immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of his beloved str. you assumed it was an older model but he made it work anyway — it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and oh, the smell . . it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. it’s really masculine and it makes your thighs squeeze together once you recline back a bit. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its glitzy beauty.

it’s pretty, you’ve only seen pictures. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it. the rest of the cars usually gathered near the meet up spot before the race actually starts.

“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” geto snickers, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.

indeed, you heard about how geto built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic. a well known one, but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.

geto tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”

“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.

“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. geto’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.

sweetheart, you don’t know why but that single pet name had you feeling hot for a moment. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, you spot a toothpick sticking out from the corner of his crooked lips. he’s so pretty — he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the highly anticipated race, a gloved thumb taps against his furry steering glimmering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”

shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice even his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘suguru geto’ in bright bold letters.

drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.

one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.

geto positions his rear view mirror for the millionth time before noticing you zeroing your eyes at his gear shift that glistens from the dozens of rhinestones that glue against the cover. countless diamonds stick up and down the leather skin of the handle and it’s so pretty.

“hold on, sweetheart,” geto purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that’s stood in front of the row of cars.

geto’s still got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.

it was intense, you could almost feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. the tall woman that’s dressed in nothing but sheer black carries a hefty checked flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.

the cars that were lined up beside and next to geto start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement, his gold pipes coughing up clouds of purple smoke. geto gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a cunning grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast, heh.”

and he wasn’t kidding.

the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.

his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his rusted pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way.

vroooooom, he’s flying by each checkpoint and you could almost smell the adrenaline that’s coursing through his pulsating veins.

the thrill . .

you felt it all ghost through your own veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. geto makes a few sharp turns, keeping an eye on the time every so often. his personal best was around five minutes and seventy-seven seconds. with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each whizzing mile.

over time though—you can’t help but be a bit nosy. your eyes shift toward the racer and god, you’re just now noticing how handsome he was.

geto usually wore sweats along with his street gear. he didn’t have to wear his helmet but he preferred it just in case. its all black with a splash of purple—you can see his signature lazily signed near the very top. outlined beside his name was a curling design of smoke. the part where he sees through was all darkly tinted so you could hardly see his face unless you squinted or he took it off.

it’s like it added more to his appeal in a way. he sat manspread and doing so, it gave you a one way ticket to stare straight down at his barely hidden bulge.

fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—

“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own lewd fantasm. geto’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place. one hand’s lazily on the steering wheel and he fakes a yawn.

oh he’s cocky.

with a quick glance out his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”

“i—”

it’s like his cologne got louder.

you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. suguru, the suguru geto was flirting with you?

and the thing that got you the most was that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore—every few seconds, you’d lock eyes against him near the ear view mirror, feeling hot once his eyes slowly rove down your figure through his dark tinted helmet.

not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shamelessly, you did think he was referring to that kind of ride minutes earlier.

and the more you stared at his hardened bulge through his grey sweats, the more you started to think. .

but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.

not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked - literally.

geto positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his loose sweats just so you could ride something else entirely.

instead of riding just his car �� you rode his dick, and fuck was he just ridiculously big.

too big, and he knows it. geto groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your slimy gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing. he’s so big, easily rearranging your insides and be barely even had to move a muscle.

he’s ruthless - but your hips were even more ruthless though, far more.

geto knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the swerving stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over.

you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length from each slapping thrust.

belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f- fuck, what about t- the race?” you speak in a breathy tone, your tempo becoming more and more relentless. the salaciously enticing jerk of your unsteady hips gradually turn into rough unstable bounces and he kisses his teeth. geto feels the convulsing veins that run down his cock pulse right through him and between your walls, you feel it too.

“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a sleazy grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your rickety thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further down your chest. he cups one of your bouncing tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, what a pretty fuckin’ body. look at you girl,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.

a trembling whimper dies out your throat at the feeling of his swollen fat cockhead vigorously thrusting in and out of your dribbling entrance.

you’re just so soaked. it’s like you can’t help but be sopping wet on his lap and he loves it. sloshes of sobs echo out of your pussy and your legs pathetically quaver directly on top of him.

both of you groan in complete unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake a bit despite him pushing down a few miles. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars trying to catch up to geto.

they didn’t have a chance,

they looked like tiny splotching dots in the far distance. geto even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.

typical.

“s- suguru,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. he’s so thick. you swivel your hips around him, gasping every time his dick piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold material makes a good portion of your thighs quake and you can’t help but coo out a few sweet ‘ooh’ or ‘ah’s right next to the shell of his ear. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and he didn’t even bother taking them off.

yet.

“so fuckin’ big, shiiiit.” you’d whimper, trying to swerve your way all around him. he’s just too big, you were even surprised he fit. you had to go down slow, aligning yourself against him — every few seconds his cock would pop out of you, making that cute squelch sound that makes his suck his teeth in annoyance.

“mhm, ‘n you’re takin’ it so well. you’re a big girl, fuckin’ take it,” he rasps in a hushed tone, nipping a few teeth near the inside of your neck. his helmet along with his toothpick ends up falling near the side of his seat with a loud thud.

your hips were killer.

unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f- fuck, who taught you how ‘ta ride? heh, tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”

your whiny moans only pitch louder once he grips a nice chunk of your ass with one hand, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.

“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, growing more and more dumb the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock. his peeling sack hangs from underneath and he’s so swollen, you feel it.

maddened angry balls entirely reddened and puffed up from the delicious stimulation. with every sharp pull of your hips bouncing up and down, he feels himself shriveling — he’s so sensitive inside of you, and he can almost taste his own pleasure. whilst you continue to twirl your ass around in rotation for him, you couldn’t help but shamelessly salivate at the thought of imagining just how full he might be.

“sugu—fuuuckk,” and a bead of sweat races down the side of your face. geto’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was practically the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the annual street races.

“bet you are. sloppy girl,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down his lap over and over, preparing to gush all over the dick that’s currently nestled inside of you. he’s got such a mouth watering curve of his cock that makes your stomach twist and churn.

the kind of curve that doesn’t involve his motor vehicle, that kind.

geto’s dick knew how to do swerves on its own, it even knew how to carve an entire bumpy race track allllll through your insides with his fat pink tip. “touch yourself, pretty. gimme a show before you mess up my fuckin’ seats.”

you could hear the sass in his voice along with a drip of vex and you’d giggle if you weren’t being ruthless stuffed full of inches. “o- okay,” you breathe through clenched teeth, guiding your hands up and down your body. geto’s dark eyes stare at you intently.

he stared at the way your hands caress your pretty plump tits, feeling down the valley of your exposed chest. his eyes flicker toward you then back at the road, then at you again - he repeats it, feeling his own muscles starting to tighten through his clothing. “ngh, suguru. can’t hold—”

your addictive slams against his cock got more intense until he’s fully buried balls deep inside of your squeezing cunt. you hear the saturated plops that’s squealing out of your pussy and you can’t even believe that’s you that’s sounding like that.

your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.

“fuck, cum then. cum on me, girl,” he grunts, one hand grabbing a nice fat piece of your ass again before spanking it.

you moan, the sharp brief twinge of elation sending you a shiver that immediately sends convulses between your thighs. lewd filthy thoughts foil at your brain and pretty soon, the car steams up with steamy clouded fog.

erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. geto feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”

whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock. the wrinkled skin of his base continues to stick against his sack due to you bouncing against him.

it’s hot, literally.

with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips, goddamn,” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his mushroom tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.

you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a soft upward shimmy of his hips. milliseconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick while at the very same time, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, geto uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.

he was close.

the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and geto groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.

once he puts his car in park, geto falls back into his seat with own sable dark eyes flickering back to the very depths of his skull.

you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. blinking twice, geto smears his glossed lips together before exhaling, “phew,” and he swats another palm against your ass. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with honeyed slick.

you’re damping his cock and the squelches you make, they were loud.

so wet and slimy. he could listen to it all day, just the sound of your sweet cunt whimpering out sweet sloshes of nothing. the overwhelming sensitivity leaves a sourly candied taste in your mouth and you whine, feeling him squeeze a hand against your right hip. with a raspy out of breath tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”

“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.

as he grabs your hips, steadying you—you intake a breath, remembering how many inches he was buried inside. your tummy tucks inward and you whimper, feeling him preparing to shoot pure blanks. with a size like his, geto’s cock never failed to leave its sloppy infamous mark.

you’re just marveled at how fat his tip is, it’s voluntarily french-kissing up against sweet beloved cervix that’s screaming out curses just as much as you. he’s got two hands on your veering hips, smooth fabric of his racing gloves sliding up and down your wobbly. with pouty compressed lips, you moan, bringing your hands to grab onto his shoulders. “cum, cum in me—fuck.”

geto huskily groans, tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you the final perfunctory thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body. you could see a bit of his tatted sleeves peek from underneath his shirt - his tense muscles bulging.

“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty black lashes sticking against his droopy hooded sockets.

it spurts out slowly but surely.

globs and globs of frothy cum bubble down the swollen sides of his cock and you feel it all. it’s toasty and warm and as he’s pouring his all into you, painting your gummy walls his pristine-white color, you couldn’t help but lean in.

geto’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly to a certain attractive degree. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed slobbering down your slick cunt.

he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh cooling mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

oh, he’s obsessed—

screw the race by this point, all he wanted at this moment was you.

geto’s still got such a large load that’s dumping into you raw and it even oozes down past your thighs, a few creamy droplets plopping down on his velvet seats. he grunts, both twisting tongues ferociously tangling against each other whilst your pussy’s still squeezing down on him like a vice. a glossed translucent ring forms around his base and he feels you trying to touch yourself with two curious fingers.

with a slight smack, he swats your hand away and you whine in his mouth. “heh, hands to yourself,” you pout because earlier he let you touch yourself but now, no. he teases, breaking away from the hot kiss. a stringy cobweb of saliva tears back from both lax plump lips before he playfully nibbles on your chin. geto notices how slumped out you were and a broad open hand of his crawls between your legs. “ooooh,” and he lifts you up from his swollen flaccid cock, gazing at just how much of a fill he’s pumped into you. “well look at that,” and you whimper, feeling him strum a thumb down your drooling cunt. “would be a shame if it all went to waste,” then he quirks a brow, sliding a tongue across his lips. “princess, stick your head out the window for me real quick.”

“out the wind—”

and not even seconds later, you find yourself literally being bent over, halfway hanging out of his rolled down tinted window. geto wasn’t done, at least not yet.

your sheeny glossed lips immediately part into an ‘o’ as a sweet gasp leaves your lips. with clammy hands, they grip onto the edge of his window and you whimper once he delves his long tongue inside of your cunt. your fingers gripped against the window so hard that it ends up leaving dozens of your cute fingerprints against the tinted glass.

“oh my goddd,” you babble out in elongated sweet syllables. with your pretty eyes bulging, you gasp at feeling the tip of his tongue swirl all around inside of you.

geto lowly grunts, lapping his twitching pink muscle down your runny folds back and forth. between your legs—he’s a menace, and it was no prying him off.

at all.

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the simple fact that he’s eating his own cum out of you, unapologetically savoring the bittersweet taste that lands right on his flavored tastebuds. your legs were so weak and you can feel his warm breath continuously fan against and on your sopping folds as he chuckles.

“my my, look at her. this prize’s way better than some money,” he hums, using a leather thumbed glove to swipe down your entrance. he’s slow, dragging it all the way down just to watch spurts of your slick pop onto his digit. you’re just so wet, metallic fingers of his ghost further down your clit before you whine. geto sees your cunt pulsing from the sheer thrill and he snickers, smacking a palm right against your slobbering core. “she’s fuckin’ nasty today, yeah?” and his eyes flicker toward your drooling cunt, giving it a teasing suck. “mmph, listen to her with me, gorgeous,” and one spank against your pussy turns into one, then two, then three.

growing quiet, you listen to the weeping sounds purring out of your own cunt. so loud, so shamelessly loud. you could hear it and he barely even had to touch you. you’re drenching up his seats and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart pound ruthlessly out your chest. his tongue knew just where to go—it’s creating a path of its own, laying flat against your clit before sucking against every tender spot. your legs were on its final hinges. you felt like they were about to snap shut. you’re staring out the window, still not seeing any cars which was good.

if anyone saw you like this, being eaten out in this kind of position, you don’t know what would happen.

geto resumes to flick his long tongue down your swollen slit, lapping up the last few droplets of his own cum that tries to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. another final swat from his mean palm sets against your clit and you let off a cute squeal, your tummy instinctively caving in. “so much back talk from a pussy this fuckin’ sloppy. oughta teach it some manners, pretty girl,” he grumbles, and your eyes blissfully roll back once you hear him starting to sluuuurp.

geto had no shame — it was decided, this was far better than any race he’s ever had.

his teeth nip near the inside corners of your thighs before he trails back to munching on your clit, burying his nose deep. “mhm,” he groans, and it only takes a few seconds before his jaw finally locks. geto reaches down, giving his cock a few solid pumps. his pretty reddened tip was angry, it still had dried spurts of cum racing from the sides and he grunts at the memory of being inside of you only just a few minutes ago. whilst his face’s shoved right between your thighs—you don’t even realize you’re trying to reach back to grab onto his hair. you’re hesitant though, and he finds it cute. departing his wet slick lips briefly, a wry grin spreads against his lips. “kinky,” the dark haired man flicks a tongue across his lips, savoring your juices that smeared against his mouth. “don’t be shy. do it,” and you moan once he teasingly whistles against your pussy, kissing against your nub. “pull my hair girl. pull.”

you give it a good yank and his head pushes forward into you—geto’s lengthy tongue dips further inside your cunt and you whimper, gnawing the inside of your stiff jaw. “fuck,” you gasp, and as his tongue gradually curls various bubbly letters inside of your pussy.

it multitasks, continuing to send your entire body a plethora of fluttering butterflies. he was so sloppy, seeping from the corners of his mouth with your slick and just your slick. his head moving side to side eagerly and every few seconds, he’s got to flick away long shaggy strands of his hair. geto’s proudly devouring you entirely whilst you’re just literally hanging out his window.

“oh, come on. harder, sweetheart. even i can do better than tha—ngh.”

with more force, you tug roughly on his pretty black strands and you heard the most sluttiest moan pour from his lips. god, he was so close that you could literally feel that infamous smug grin spread against his lips. geto brings a fat round thumb to run down your drooling cunt, giving it a ‘good job’ kiss. “atta girl. that’s my girl.”

geto ends up coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of over and over and over again.

he’s mean with his tongue, slurping everything out of you until you had no more - nothing more to coal his chin with. his favorite thing to do was to playfully bite against your clit, feeling you writhe and shiver all because of his mouth.

you end up leaving his entire chin with a pretty stream of your syrupy slick. geto’s panting, falling back after talking you through your nth orgasm, and with a peek through his rear view mirror, he spots the remaining race cars that were finally approaching the finish line.

“ah, about time,” geto rolls his eyes, sliding his lips near the corner of his chin where a bit more of your slick laid.

he acted like it was nothing, like he didn’t just have his tongue shoved inches deep inside of your cunt, stuffing his race gloved fingers in and out of you until you gushed right down his lengthy thick digits. you’re just sat on his lap, and you’re too dumb to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature manly scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.

needy silence was your only reply and he tsks, resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.

geto couldn’t care less though—he had you on his lap and he could already feel himself bulging again.

he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him now.

maybe you were delusional—maybe it was the fangirl in you screaming, begging for more, but your body wasn’t just begging anymore, it ached for more.

he drives you back toward the car meet up spot, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the flaunting vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “t- thank you,” you pant, trying to catch your breath, even still. geto stands up tall and he completely towers over you. you feel so small all of a sudden, watching as he puts his helmet back on.

“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture just as that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a long moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”

your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, awkwardly tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your throat. “yeah, please.”

“such manners like a good girl, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s up and coming races in tokyo. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. geto slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.

geto’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your left tit. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, watching as he marks up the upper part of your chest. “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes, adding a ‘xo’ at the end of his signature. geto puts the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”

he starts walking away before you could even reply and you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y.. yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.

the cool air sets against your skin once more as you stood there with shaky legs. the car meet slowly gets more crowded as the rest of the racers pass the finish line.

but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.

with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of geto’s car before he pulls off.

hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,

his real prize.

[g4zdtechtv]

THE PILE PRESENTS: X-Play - Sarkathlon II: The Sarkening | 4/17/08

Watch Kane pull a rabbit out of his hat!

(4GTV - STREAM WHAT YOU PLAY!)

[aidesignlover]

[fangirl-dot-com]

🌎Best of Both Worlds

"Y'all cool with your girl making more money than y'all?"

✧ summary: the boys need to step aside. who wouldn't want some arm candy as the most successful female racer? time for you to be the driver and the drivers to be the wags.

inspired by the different imagines around tumblr! a full smau series

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

🎮 Go Outside and Touch Some Grass Streamer!Max Verstappen

🎹 Tears on My Piano Pianist!Charles Leclerc

🕸With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility Actor!Oscar Piastri

⚽️That’s on Goal Footballer!Carlos Sainz

✈️Highway to the Danga-Zone FighterPilot!Lando Norris

🎧Can I Be Honest Rapper!Lewis Hamilton

🇺🇸Gentlemen, Start Your Engines President'sSon!Logan Sargeant

📖Is This Book . . . About Us Author!Alex Albon

💰In A Rich Man's World CEO!Lance Stroll

💳I'm Looking for a Man in Finance Accountant!George Russel*

📸Say Cheese Photographer!Daniel Ricciardo

*subject to change

[bunnys-kisses]

Hey bunny love , i heard some great things about your bakery so i decided to come and try too , i would like a butter tart with a milkshake please oh and make it nice and sweet with lando norris (💗)

barkey menu!

if you want your own order! check out the original post and i can bake somethin' up for ya! thank you for those lovely request!! did you know that butter tarts are actually from the region of canada i'm from!

additional message from sender: Hey bunny love HELP you see the order that i’ve done i forgot to clarify that i need it in a best friend inexperienced reader x lando , SORRY AGAIN (💗)

butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + milkshake (size kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, inexperienced!reader, size difference/kink, friends-to-lovers, missionary, romantic/mushy, gentle sex, marriage pact

you and lando had a deal. by the time you hit twenty-five you two would get married. the two of you had been lifelong friends and at the time thought that no one would actually want to date you two.

so the pact was made.

you had honestly forgotten about it years later. it was a pact you made when you were both dumb teenagers and lando's career as a racer hadn't taken off. by this point you had expected him to find some super hot model to date. not the best friend he's had for years!

until after you twenty-fifth birthday you received a text message.

it simply said, "will be home in a few days, where did you want to have our first date?" and before you could question him about what the hell he was talking about. you remembered his boyish smile when you linked pinkies with him.

lando was beyond relieved to see you. you picked him up from the airport and drove him back to your flat. you had laughed as you merged onto the highway.

"so a date, huh?"

"well, yeah. i mean i wasn't going to show up with a ring!" he laughed, "did you forget or something?" he almost seemed a little hurt.

"no, no." you said, "i just thought you would've found someone else by now! i mean you're surrounded by pretty girls all day."

he shrugged, "yeah, yeah. but none of them are you. i was honestly worried that you would've found someone too! i mean i can't date you if you're already with someone." he laughed once more.

being on a date with him was like hanging out with him in your youth. expect every time he wanted to kiss you, he asked. and when he kissed you. you felt a spark in your gut.

you were just at a local pub you had always gone to. there was no need for fancy first dates. eventually lando had his arm around you while you sat in the booth and the two of you watched the football game.

when you were teens you were especially into it. but over time he made you cheer for the team he cheered for. in exchange you forced him to like your favourite cheesy movie. (which he would admit now, wasn't that terrible!).

"I want to keep kissing you." he said honestly in your ear.

you picked up a fry and fed it to him. when he swallowed it, you turned to kiss him on the lips, "you don't have to ask me, norris. i've seen every mole on your ass."

he laughed and leaned in for another kiss. but before he did, he said, "i want to be a gentleman."

that sentiment lasted all the way to the bedroom. you had wished you had tidied up a little bit more of your bedroom, but you might have just been over thinking everything as you took off your t-shirt.

"lando... please be gentle, it's been like a million years since i last had sex." you admitted as you played with the t-shirt between your fingers nervously.

he looked at you with a curious glance, "who was the last person you slept with? when did this happen?" there was a small curl of jealousy in his gut.

you replied, "i mean like, not since the one, one-night stand i had in my first year of uni... since then it's been a dry spell."

he nodded, he understood. but part of him really wanted to be your first time. but hey, he had an entire lifetime to make up for it! he noticed how you gazed at him when he took his shirt off. "like what you see?"

you chuckled, "yes. you've always been handsome, lando. too handsome for me!"

he shook his head and took off his belt, "no. just handsome enough for you." then pulled down his shorts before he got into bed with you, pulling you down onto the floral printed covers next to him.

he looked nice in just a pair of black briefs. you couldn't believe this was really happening. to have your legs tangled up in his, his lips on yours. hands roaming each other's bodies.

it was something that would've made sixteen year old you blush.

"wait, wait.' he said, "give me a second." then got out of bed, he left the bedroom to go to the living room where all of his belongings still there. he came back with the shiny foil of a condom. he beamed at you, "have to play it safe." before he climbed back into bed with you.

he loved the sight of you. you were so pretty, ever since you two were younger. he always thought you were the prettiest girl at school, even if you didn't believe it. now, he'd just have to tell you every day how pretty you were.

he got his briefs off and the condom on before he put you on your back and got between your legs. he knelt between them with his cock at full attention. he admired the sight of you.

"i can't believe you kept true to your word." you chuckled and rubbed your face as if to wipe the blush off.

he smiled at you, "why wouldn't i? i made a promise." he leaned in towards you and kissed you on the cheek, "i was practically counting down the days. it was hard to keep it all inside, not when i was constantly thinking about you."

"i hate that i'm inexperienced."

"don't care. i have a whole life time to show learn everything with you." his voice was tinged with romance and you felt what you could only describe as love bloom in your chest.

you always had feelings for him, and see them returned made you only feel hot in the face. he kissed at those same cheeks and palmed your breasts.

"someone's into those." you chuckled.

"i always thought they were so pretty." he said almost breathless, "in those stupid dresses you wore in university. remember when i threw my hoodie over you, it was because i didn't want anyone else looking at you."

you remembered them, you were trying something new at the time. and those dresses really made you breasts noticeable. you chuckled, "god, i remember that. or that time you took off your rain jacket and zipped it up to my chin."

"i just thought you were so painfully pretty." he took his cock and rubbed it up against your wet pussy. he used to have dreams about it. he always wanted to sink himself into you and just fuck your sweet cunt.

you held onto the covers under you as you tensed for a moment in anticipation for lando's cock. you held you breath as he slowly sank in. you let out a sharp noise and lando eased your mind with kisses on your lips.

"that's it." he praised with sweetness on his tongue. he thought you looked so beautiful under him, like you always belonged there, "are you okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "yeah, i'm doing great. just... not used to it." you took a deep breath.

lando held onto you and said softly, "don't worry, i'll go gentle. don't want to hurt my wife on the first try."

you looked at him and chuckled, "and what if i'm not marriage material in a year?"

lando shook his head, "i don't wanna hear it." then sealed it with a kiss as he used your hips to rub your against his cock. the movements were small, but slowly building up in a decent peace. he wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt you.

you held his face and continued to kiss him. when he eventually pulled away, you were both soon panting. he rutted up into you and moved your hips at a similar pace. he loved that your expression was starting to change to one filled with pleasure.

he thought you were beautiful even then.

"i've thought about this for years. i always wondered what you'd look like under me, or on top, or anywhere really. i just dreamt about having you."

"you could've asked me out sooner, norris." you smiled at him. you felt a swell in your chest.

lando blushed a little and replied, "i couldn't find the words. but then when i remembered, i knew i had to jump at the chance to have you."

you wrapped your arms and legs around him and said, "well mister lando norris, you have me. now and forever."

he broke out into a grin, it was so cheesy. even though he had his cock inside of you. but he loved it. he loved you. he kissed you again before he started to thrust a little heavier.

the intimacy between you two was strong, but the actually movements were softer. lando's lips felt so nice against your neck and along your jaw. every kiss felt like worship.

his hands explored your sides, almost making you giggle loudly. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears from the pleasure in your veins.

the bed creaked under your movements. you felt the lust warm in your gut. you clutched onto his shoulders as he kept his steady pace. you panted heavily, "i'm close, fuck, lando. i'm close!"

"i know, i know. me too." he groaned as he moved. he was so big compared to you. and you felt so small, but in a good way. he was just perfect for you and you were for him.

you always felt protected by him.

you two kissed once more and you moaned into the kiss. he was panting through his nose as he pressed his cock into you as deep as it would go.

you tensed up around him and his cock twitched inside of you. and together you both came, pressed against on another as orgasm gripped you.

it felt so good.

you could get used to this. the movements slowed to a stop and you broke the kiss to catch your breath. you panted heavily as you tried to pull yourself together.

"so good." he laid on top of you for a moment, embracing your warmth below him. you wrapped your arms around him tightly and kissed his sweaty temple.

you both laid there. it felt nice. maybe you wouldn't mind keeping to the marriage pact you made when you were a teen. it wouldn't be bad to be married to your best friend.

he yawned before he moved off of you, "i gotta get you a nice ring. something as beautiful as you."

-

you didn't get married at twenty-five. it would take about three years before you had your special day.

his fingers interlocked with yours and he held them up towards the stream of morning light through the window. "you know." he said, "i used to write your name with my last name when we were kids."

you chuckled and looked to him, "the crush was that big."

he nodded, "yeah, i mean, you ruined all other girls for me. but i'm glad. let's ruin ourselves for anyone else anyway." he laughed before he threw an arm around you and kissed you deeply.

[hirocimacruiser]

▼ A work that goes with the main stream of highway racers (Is there such a thing!?) with flashy coloring, jagged nose, and two bamboo spears. Above all, Erai commutes in this, so I've lost my mind.

Soarer 2.0GT

Written by Takashi Abe

(Miyagi Prefecture)

Appeared on 6/26

devil

[eyvindm]

Highway Racer Development Update

Using everything I've learnt about GDevelop from the previous games (Pixel Quest & Asteroid Defence), the start of the racing game has been pretty smooth. Movement, car spawns and how to lose is all good. Here is a screenshot of the game so far:

I have some great plans to further polish the game. Everything from polishing up the grassy background to adding a highscore system. I'll create another update when the game is all finished :)

[boanerges20]

Motolove

[electrochems]

I feel like most people have cute premises for how their S/I and F/O actually started having like... Fully pleasant interactions but I've got a guy dragging his extremely damaged motorcycle to Kim after thinking he could better communicate with it by using Pyrholidon and crashing that bitch while street racing

[jackalopenecropsy]

ok i'll indulge myself....

part 1(?) of biker gang!141 and an interesting fem grunge!reader... if u want more

cw; slight mentions of blood

The streets were pretty quiet this time of night. The only sounds to be heard were barking dogs or tires occasionally skidding in the distance. And the teenagers were never out this late in the fall, as school just started or they were working their dead jobs at the gas station or high school graduates pouring the same 5 drinks at a bar.

You liked walking around- even though it was maybe 1 or 2 in the morning- mainly because you had your scary guard dog with you, (who wasn't even a bit scary, he was just a police academy dropout with a fear of cotton swabs and squirrels) but also because the air this time of year smelled the best. It did wonders for your skin and sinuses, so why not? Walking around in the daytime was a lot more of a chore anyways, teenagers skating sporradically with fruity vapes on necklaces or older men just leaving their blue collar jobs for lunch while staring at you with unreadable expressions.

The northwoods, sigh. You'd told yourself that you'd leave it all the time when you were a kid. Over the years, a mix of the economy making that absolutely impossible and an aquirement of taste for small-town life made it a lot easier to accept the impossibility of it. Bartending and eventually being remote in editorial work kept you afloat in the small house you'd been able to buy flat out in the south side of town.

That part of town was just cemeteries and neighborhoods, neighborhoods and railroads, and gas stations and bars. As most south sides were. Another luxury of living where you lived was the copious amounts of streets and drag-worthy strips of old highway that laid for miles in one direction or another.

You used to work as a freelance flag girl for drag racers on some shitty craigslist copy, but quit l because the only racers that wanted you were full of white-claw drunk young assholes rooting for douchebag car modders who compensated for their dick sizes by throttling so hard that the pop of their exhausts sounded like gunfights. It was too loud and to risky and too tasteless.

But in the ends of the summer, it was taken over by the bikers. Not bicycle-bikers, but motorcyclists.

You were absolutely terrible at hiding your drooling depraved stares at every single one of them. The young women in skin-clad leather and red lipstick with matching sleek bikes, the finer-aged older men in their lean-back harleys with bandanas, the cute guys your age in their blackout helmets and their modestly-modded bikes. Oh, the variety, oh the taste. You had once thought about picking up biking yourself, but when you told your friends they all cackled at the idea. You were too absent minded at times; definitely from all the weed you smoked. Only half embarassed, you agreed.

Tonight was no different than the other nights of early Septembers before. Your dog lapped his tongue in the air catching stray dew drops falling from leaves overhead as you took your time walking accross the street. He swayed his tail so hard that you almost got knocked over a few times. The sound of a motorcyle revving in the distance made you slow your speed to a halt, listening intently, shamefully to see if you could get any bit of eye candy while out.

You recognized the sound of the engine, which soon became engines as the sounds came closer.

'Oh... a group of Kawaskis?? No... that's at least two more different motorcyles, but a few Kawaskis.. Do I hear a Harley?'

You blinked to yourself before shaking your head.

'God fucking damnit, you geek. You should NOT be able to tell what motorcyle model someone's riding from the fucking engine.'

Before you can shamefully walk back towards your house, you feel your dog tug harshly at his leash. You try to hold him back, but he yanks with one solid push of his back paws on the blacktop, and before you know it, you're hands and knees down on the hard ground as he's running full speed towards the sound of the motorcycles.

You groan in frustration as you stand up in a small bit of pain, your fishnets torn to shit as your palms and knees are scraped just enough to bleed a reasonable amount for getting launched by a 90 lb dog of muscle.

"Riley!" You shout and run at him, dodging a few trash cans along the street's edge as you do so. "Riley, goddamnit! Come back! Here boy!" Your converse were broken in enough to give you good ground as you chased him, and you almost grab his loose leash dragging behind him- until you trip over your own feet again just before you do.

You stay on the ground this time, unworried for your dog, as he's a big boy who knows how to not get hit by a car or get lost. More focused on the soul-eating embarassment of being outrun by a dog with more anxiety than a war veteran, and tripping twice in the process. You ignore the growing and stalling sound of engines beside- or in front, you can't tell being face down in the gravel- you as you're grovelling.

"Eh... excuse me miss? Are you alright?" You hear a gruff, dark voice mumble from just above you. You whip your head up to look at 5 people in bikers helmets just in front of you, their motorcyles off or stalling as they stand looking down at you on the ground.

"Oh- oh my- uh yeah- don't worry about me I'm great. I just tripped- nothing serious." You wave them off as you try and cover the growing fluster on your face. You stand and shake the dirt off your hands before swiping it off of your zip up, shaking it out of your gloves too. You look up to see none other than Riley, sitting contently behind the man in front of you, eagerly being pet by one of the bikers with a skull design painted onto his helmet and visor.

"Riley!" The biker looks up and your dog wags his tail hard enough to knock the bikers over too, and barks at you. "You are so not going to get any treats when we get home." He whines and continues barking, then twirls in a circle.

"You're dog's name is Riley?" The man in the skull helmet asks- and you suddenly become hyperaware of how all of the bikers are staring so intently at you. And those that have spoken so far have sickeningly thick English accents.

"Ah- yes, yeah. I was just on a walk and I heard you guys from the other street- but he just loves motorcylists so much, he took off on me. Usually he just waits until they pass us by. I'm so so sorry if he got in your way or anything." You scramble to try and seem somewhat normal as you switch between standing like a deer in their headlights, and holding your arms as the wind blew against your back.

"Ain't that a funny coincidence." The biker next to him stated, his accent thicker, and different. Possibly scottish.

"You watch it- It is a good name for a dog like this." The skull-helmet points an authoritative finger at the scot before patting Riley's head again. The man in front of you laughs heartily and takes his helmet off, revealing an older- FINELY aged man with hair in a short, short pulled back light brown and gray spotted ponytail. His mustache pulled down into a scruffy beard by mutton chops, giving him a real grizzly harley-rider look. You swore your jaw dropped when he took it off, and you were quick to cover your mouth when he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry about that miss- You've got a good dog protecting you. My names John Price." He walked up and took your hand from your face, squeezing it lightly. "My boys back there are harmless. You seem to have roughed yourself up a bit." He tilts his head as he leans back and looks you up and down, still holding your hand. Oh how deeply thankful you were that he was blocking the headlights from illuminating your red face.

"Yeah- I'm fine though, really! I just, can't keep up with Riley if I tried." You laugh and tremble a little as the cold air catches up to you. He raises an eyebrow- and fuck it gets to you because it makes him smirk a little bit too.

"Well, no offense but you look like you're in no condition to walk home like that!" A woman's voice comes up from behind Price's. You squint at the light when she comes up, and you see a blonde woman about his age with smile lines and blue eyes that could knock you down to your knees yet again. "My name's Kate, don't let John here scare you, he's just an old man." They banter a bit as you stare into space, begging any ethreal being to show you a sign that this is real life.

'Fuck being bisexual, god hates me.' You curse to yourself as you smile shyly at her.

"We can give you a ride home if you'd want! I wouldn't feel right letting you have to get yourself home with blood down your legs." Price motions with his free hand at your torn fishnets, rocks littering the cuts on your leg.

"Oh- I don't want to impose or anything, and I'll have Riley!" You struggle to keep yourself still as the wind continually stings.

"Lass, you're shakin' like a leaf in this wind." The scottish man shakes his head in his helmet, leaning back against the flat of his bike.

"You ain't getting home with just a dog draggin' you forward." The gruff voice of the skull-head from beside him made you look away in embarassment. They were all right, you were blocks away from home, and you didn't have your phone on you either.

"Um.. If you're sure you don't mind... but what about Riley?"

"He can ride wi' me!" The scott excitedly patted the flat he was leaning on, shuffling a few top panels to show a compartment on the back of it that had a hooking mechanism for leashes. Assumedly he had dogs too, and how greatful you were for it.

You sigh in relief that you wont have to limp home in your misery, as strong as you are, the chunk of you lost twice to the blacktop actually hurt more than you'd ever want to admit.

Before you can take a step forward, you're lifted off your feet and holding the shoulders of Kate. She laughs as you gasp and sets you on the back of skull-head's bike so you can backpack him, right next to Riley in the odd formation their bikes created.

"I promise he's not as scary as he looks- right Simon?"

"I don't bite." He chuckles deeply and you tense against his back as he does so. "You might want to hold on tho', I'm not exactly the easiest ride." You blush, hard as he says it, and the group laughs loudly as they start their bikes.

"Oi, treat her nice Si." A soft voice jeered from the last bike to Kate's right. "Or else I'll have to take her off your hands."

"Nice try Gaz."

"Boys! Quit scarin' her." Price chuckles and lights a cigar as he revs his engine. "Or else she wont wanna see us again. Now where do you need us to take you, love?"

'Ah.' Was all that crossed your mind as you locked your arms around Simon's waist, and you all shot off down the street.

[sjyuns]

HIGHWAY 143 ┆ A LEE HEESEUNG ONESHOT TEASER

SYNOPSIS! landing your dream job at scuderia ferrari formula one as a radio operator, things only seem to be up for you; especially when you’re in charge of two time reigning champion lee heeseung’s operations. but what you’ve heard about him proves to be seemingly wrong when all he does is play around with you like a toy — and you can’t help but give in because fuck, does he look good in his red racing suit.

GENRE! f1 racer!heeseung x fem reader, enemies to lovers, heeseung is a player, mutual pining, jealousy, TBA

CAUTION! cursing TBA

WORDCOUNT! 500 (est 10k)

MIKAELA’S! i’ve had this idea for months lol — please reply to this post to be added into the taglist☺️

“Don’t fuck up my race again, hmm” Heeseung hums, fingers dancing over the strands of your hair as he tucks them behind your ear, “I won’t hesitate to fire you, princess.”

You scoff, arms crossed and head held high — you held yourself to a certain standard, and it was a fact that what happened in Bahrain wasn’t something that was in your control. And as a two time world champion, Heeseung himself should have known, yet here he was; making you second guess yourself, making your cheeks a shade of mauve whip at his loaded threat all because a nickname rolled off his tongue.

“You think I'm messing up your race? We’re on the same boat, Heeseung.” You retort, unable to get his agitation towards you. “When you lose, I lose too.”

Heeseung retracts his hand from the tips of your ears, folding his arms. And all you can focus on is the way his racing suit clings to the muscles of his arm, ripped biceps and strong build, Heeseung is God and more.

He gives you an unreadable glance, tilting his head in question, “when I lose, a big fat paycheck still goes to your bank, don’t forget that pretty girl.”

The time ticks as the start of qualifying nears, and all that rings in your ears are the words of the reigning world champion — did he really view you as such? A materialistic person who wasn’t sincere about their job? As if you were in it for the money, heck your father could land you a job that paid ten times more than this job would.

And it invigorates you, the way Lee Heeseung thinks he’s all that: the charming charisma of an experienced playboy that he has, you hate it, it pisses you off. Who was he to say such things about you, especially when the both of you had just barely become acquainted.

You watch from your seat, headphones perched prettily on your head as Heeseung stares back at you from inside the iconic red car. And he curses in his mind yet again, for the nth time ever since you arrived. It irked him how his attention seemed to automatically divert to you every time you were in his vicinity, the smell of your perfume brandishing in his mind unwillingly.

He hates the way you look, the way you act as if you actually care, the way you talk so smoothly and controllingly over the radio, the way his heart exhilarates when you praise him for a job well done or when he qualifies for pole position even when it’s such a common occurrence to him.

And most of all he hates how the iconic ferrari red that surrounds his life reminds him of how pretty you look in his team shirt.

© SJYUNS