#custom racing suit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

textmel8r · 2 months

Text

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , smuttish , pure unadulterated fluff

୨୧˚ an; thank you all for the patience 😭😭 so sorry i’ve been busy getting back into uni shit but omg!!! slowburn is peaking!!! also the tag list is officially closed because i have reached the max # of tags!!!

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

Nanami’s morning routine doesn’t deviate from the norm. An alarm clock was built into his genetic code, and he rouses at half past six in the morning. Unfurling his long limbs from the confines of the couch—the suede thing was big, but Nanami was bigger. Joints popped under sheets of muscle and flesh when he gave a hearty stretch, and with that, he was ready to start his Sunday.

Fueled purely on motor memory, he filters through each step of the habitual customs he’s grown to associate with mornings. You’re still sleeping soundly in his bed, and the risk of waking you condemns Nanami to his downstairs bathroom rather than the personal en suite tailing off his bedroom. It doesn’t pose much of an inconvenience; Nanami was nothing if not prepared. The slender closet in his downstairs bathroom housed spare toiletries—handkerchiefs, tooth brushes, soaps and oils.

He brushes his teeth first, watching his reflection with tired eyes. Minty foam froths at the corners of his lips. Nanami collects the mess with his tongue before spitting into the porcelain bowl of the sink. He’s thorough, scrubbing every corner of his mouth, followed by a pass through with charcoal infused floss. Next, the man is dabbing a button of facial cleanser onto a small square of towel, wetting it under the faucet. Scouring his cheeks, then forehead, then nose. His hair is mussed from tossing in his sleep, and if not for the guest upstairs, Nanami would probably leave it as is. But you’re his guest, and for some reason that means something to him, so he slicks back the blonde frizz with wet hands.

Another staple of Nanami’s morning routine: a good cup of coffee. The machine was expensive—Nanami tends to splurge when it comes to matters that mean most to him. He doesn’t mind spending a little extra on his suit wear, his beloved watches, and certainly not his coffee. Crafted from titanium and stainless steel, it sat heavily on the black marble countertop and whirred quietly as it compressed beans into the filter.

Ingredients line the island at the center of his extravagant kitchen. Weekends were the only days in which Nanami had enough time to cook breakfast for himself, rather than grabbing a bagel or danish from the convenience store on his way to the office. It was a shame, really, because he enjoyed the gratification of cooking his own meals. And not to toot his own horn, but he was rather proud of his skills.

He never cooks for two, though.

Nanami peruses the ingredient assembly line, looking from the organic eggs, to the all purpose flour, to the carton of mixed berries. It would be rude of him not to consider your palate. Did you prefer a savory breakfast? Or perhaps you’d rather have something on the sweeter side like pancakes? He nibbled his lower lip in thought.

A divine aroma saturates the entirety of downstairs. Nanami focuses on folding a second omellette, tucking the concoction of whipped egg, chopped bell peppers, caramelized onions, diced tomatoes, and grated sharp cheddar on itself with the delicacy of a surgeon. He’s knee deep in concentration, back turned towards his staircase so your presence goes entirely unnoticed.

Hands clap together somewhere over his shoulder. He jerks with a startled gasp, the fork in his hand clattering to vinyl tiles. Nanami presses a palm to his racing chest, twisting to find your hands just inches away from his ear. What a little shit, you are. He doesn’t waste effort trying to stifle his grimace. “Was that necessary?”

You’re crouched down, retrieving the silverware off the floor. “Now we’re even.”

“Even?”

“Yeah,” you hand him the fork, to which he blinks at the useless thing. It’s been dirtied by the floor, so Nanami instructs you to toss it in the sink and grab another from the utensil drawer at the end of his pointed finger. As you play fetch, you explain. “Do you know how scared shitless I was waking up in a strange bedroom? In strange clothes?” He’s watching you toy aimlessly with the abundance of extra material bunched up around the trussed waistband of your—his—sweatpants. Nanami’s clothes cloak you more than enough; cotton t-shirt hanging just below mid-thigh, and those damned oversized sweats rolled up in stupidly big cuffs at the ankles stopping over your socked feet. You must’ve adjusted them accordingly when you stepped out of bed. Something akin to apprehension pulled at your face. “We didn’t…”

Blonde brows scrunch as he attempts to decipher your blathering. When you beckon a hand between your chest and his, Nanami abruptly chokes on his saliva. “Are you out of your mind?” He’s quick to sputter, spinning back to face the sizzling pans and contain the tickle in his throat. A white bowl and whisk are gathered into strong arms—homemade blueberry pancake batter sloshes against the wiry bristles of Nanami’s whisk. He pours three more precise circles of batter onto the second frying pan, and the sweet paste fizzles against nonstick cookware. “You were intoxicated, Y/n. Couldn’t even remember your own address.” He paused. “A change of clothes seemed ideal in the moment. Something cozier.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Footsteps pad closer, and you appear beside him, resting your back against the counter. Your head lolls, cheek falling against your shoulder. He can feel your eyes gouging into the side of his face while he flips the pancake triplets. “You changed me?”

There’s a foreign tonality bleeding into your words, something almost playful, and he’s vexed. Are you teasing him? A trimmed thumb nail burrows into the silicone grip of a spatula. Or is that genuine curiosity? “I did,” Nanami gives you honesty, licking his lip as he does so. On it, he tastes a vague note of spearmint. “You needed some help.”

“God,” you touch a hand to your forehead and laugh, “that does sound like me.” There is no perturbation or embarrassment there, only relief, and he thanks God for your uncanny ability to bypass awkwardness in situations such as these. Had the roles been reversed and it was Nanami receiving word that a coworker of the opposite sex had dressed him in a period of inebriation, well, he’d probably send in a letter of resignation to the company the next day. “Sorry for being so difficult for you.”

He wags his head, dismissing the remorse. “Please, your apologies are far from necessary.”

“Oh I think they’re completely neces—”

“Aht.” A spatula stabs through the air stopping a few inches shy of your nose. There’s a sharpness that eclipses sepia eyes behind the crystalline shield of Nanami’s wire-framed glasses; a barbed glance that telepathically urges you to drop the argument before it begins. With that same spatula, he dives below fluffy circles of speckled cake and transports them from pan to plates, divvying up the pancakes into two even portions. “You took the medication I left for you, yes? They were beside the glass of water on the side table.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m feelin’ better already.”

“Good,” he nods with a subtle, tight-lipped grin. “That’s good. Though you should probably get some food down. Fill your stomach with something other than tylenol.” Nanami stops his ministrations, satisfied with the presentation of both plates of breakfast, and pitches you a simple question. “Coffee?”

You practically moan, “coffee sounds really fucking amazing right now.”

Coffee it is then. Nanami proposes that you go settle yourself in a seat, and that he’d handle the rest. Forfeiting another argument, you buckle and slip into a high stool at the breakfast bar that is associated along the island in the midst of the kitchen. Two twin mugs are poached from the highest shelf, crafted of gray ceramic with uneven, white polka dots. He owned a whole dining set donning those same frivolous dots; Nanami always had an absurd fascination with peculiar patterns, they were charming to the man. Perhaps his collection of ugly things were meaningful because of how violently they contrasted to his otherwise ordinary life. In both mugs, scalding coffee brimmed and emanated laces of smoke slithering up to the ceiling. Nanami didn’t bother asking you how you took your coffee—he just knew. Knew from stealing glances at you over the past year, watching you concoct a disastrous potion of lukewarm coffee poured from the communal pot that you so desperately despised, skim milk from the carton in the office floor’s minifridge, and a concerning amount of sugar packets that made him feel inclined to alert your doctor. Nanami does his best to match the ratio of coffee to milk to sugar, gives it a stir, and hopes it’s up to your eccentric taste buds.

He sets your plate and mug down, sliding it across the counter’s surface to sit before you. Nanami chooses to stand where he is, leaning against the opposite end of the island. His foot, clad in a thick, black sock, taps quietly against the floor. “I wasn’t aware of your preferences so—”

“So you made…” You go quiet, prodding at the unusual combination of food on your plate: a vegetable-ridden omelette on one side and a few blueberry-encrusted flapjacks glazed in a modest squirt of maple syrup on the other. You hate it, he thinks shortly, but then a smile splits on your lips and Nanami fears he may have jumped the gun. “Eggs and pancakes?”

“You do like eggs and pancakes, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you respond, enthused. “It’s perfect.”

Nanami cringes. “I’d like it if you didn’t call me that outside of the workplace.”

“What? Sir?”

He hums. “Formalities remind me of work; I don’t like to think about work when I’m eating my breakfast.” He punctuates the request with a sip from his mug. Black, unsweetened coffee scathes his tongue with powerful calidity, but he’s well acquainted with its heat by now, and doesn’t wince.

“I’ll just stick to Nanami, then.”

“Actually, I—” Was it even worth mentioning? That he’d handed you the rights to use his first name last night? The tiny, bothersome devil on Nanami’s shoulder was whispering yes. “Kento will do.”

True, unadulterated glee beamed from your person, wafting a certain warmth across the counter to smack him in the face. “Holy shit, yeah that’s right! I remember now!” Using your fork as an arrow to point at the man, “last night, you told me that. You said I can call you Kennnn-Tooooo—”

“Okay, alright.” He’s jaded by your antics, swatting his hand in the air lazily. It’s too early in the morning to get serenaded by his own name. “Say it normally, or don’t say it at all.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just so crazy to think that we’re on a first name basis now, y’know?” You ask before shoveling a forkful of pancake into your mouth, sighing blissfully at the taste. Gratefulness oozed into your gestures, materializing in the way you simpered up at him following each and every bite. Smiles so broad that Nanami wondered if they were out of politeness or if you really just enjoyed his cooking that much.

He can cheers to your observation. “If you would’ve told me five months ago that you’d be sitting across from me in my home—sharing breakfast with me, no less—I would have…” Laughed in your face? Had a conniption? A combination of the two? Nanami trails off into thought, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d have done.”

So hellbent on sticking to his judgment, Nanami rarely changed his mind about people post first impressions. First impressions were something he valued, both in himself and in others. A snap perception is made based upon the first bits of information he collects from a person, and it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to say that your initial communication was less than stellar. Since then, Nanami’s one-track mind had pinned associations onto you like a bulletin board, assigning your name with attributes like sleazy and trashy and (God, he felt the worst about this one) slutty. This entire time, it was Nanami’s stubbornness and penchant to be right that shielded him from the realization that you were none of those cancerous aspersions.

You are you.

You are a diligent worker. You are never on time. Your favorite color is (f/c). You are easy to talk to, easy to approach. You like pistachio cheesecake and criminally sweet coffee. You are insecure about your presentation skills, though Nanami can’t understand why. You are determined. You are rarely shy about asking for something you need, a quality he appreciates in someone. You make him laugh. You can’t hold your liquor. With the way you’re drooling over your plate like a hungry puppy, it’s apparent that you like his cooking. And he likes you.

He… what?

“Yeah, well,” you tilt your head, and the melodic chuckle that follows is enough to yank Nanami from his dazedness. Lifting your mug, you push it towards him in a sort of gesture. “Good thing the past doesn’t matter, huh? We were both lame in the past, but look at us now.” You retract the mug to your lips, taking a swig. “Future us is awesome. Are awesome? Is?”

You mumble to yourself, befuddled by grammar. Meanwhile, Nanami brews in thought. Your undying fearlessness of what’s to come in life always rendered him bewildered.

“I’m jealous,” he admits, idly tracing the rim of his cup with his thumb.

You perk up. “Of?”

“Your ability to embrace the future. It’s brave.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” you sweatdrop, itching your cheek. “I wouldn’t call it bravery. Maybe security? I’m—yeah, I’m secure with the route I’ve taken in life.”

“You’re secure with white collar work?”

“I can’t see myself in any other profession,” you smile, flicking him a brow. “What about you?”

Honesty permitted, Nanami would describe his job as the bane of his misery. There used to be a point in his life in which he was sure that this was his ultimate goal: a senior executive position with an esteemed, high-profile company. Younger Nanami was content to endure years of early mornings and late nights with busy schedules jammed in between because it’d all be worth it when he finally tastes that sweet senior title. Except, now he’s tasted it. He’s licked it dry, and despite that, that feeling of fulfillment Nanami had been vying for his whole career remains frustratingly dormant. The notion that this will be his routine until retirement kills him.

He chews thoughtfully on a sliver of pancake before responding. “We touched on this a little over text.”

“You want to travel.”

You remembered. He hums. “I do.”

“And you want a family.”

“I do,” Nanami sighs longingly.

You don’t make an effort to stifle a chuckle at his supposed foolishness. Shaking your head and cutting your eggs with the blunt side of a fork; “You talk about these things as if it’s all some sort of cushiony pipe dream. It’s really fucking hilarious all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Perplexed, Nanami pries for an expansion.

And with all the seriousness in the world, you begin to count on your digits. “You are probably the most charming, most intelligent, most wealthy—”

“Y/n,” Nanami yawps at your conviction. When you jest, you do it in such an obvious way. He’s come to familiarize himself with the clever quirk of your mouth’s corner, or that playfully irritating glint in your smile-squinted eyes. But now, Nanami can’t find any evidence of joking in your stoney expression. You’re sincere when you say these things about him. It makes his heart pound so viciously that it vibrates his ear drums.

“Most hard-working man I’ve ever met.” Unfazed by his apparent flusteredness, you finish with a nonchalant shrug. “Just funny, is all, that you of all people are stressing over these things when you have the ingredients to make your ambitions a reality.”

“Your compliments are… thanked…” The blonde ducks his head in an awkward, halfhearted bow, “but I can’t ever hope to truly begin my life when I don’t have the time granted to do so.” Nanami touches an index and middle finger to his temple, rubbing in soothing circles. It doesn’t do much to quell the oncoming migraine that this nightmarish topic never fails to cast upon him. “I’ve tried. Believe me when I say that I have worked my ass off trying to balance my job alongside nurturing a relationship. But I’ve come to realize how unfair of me that is—to ask a woman to bear with my neglect because I got held up at the office for the fifth night in a row. A relationship isn’t much of a relationship at all if both people still feel lonely.”

Unbeknownst to him, his tone had slipped away for a moment. He became bitter, recalling the lineup of failures that made up his dating history. Bitter and lonely. It’s been almost two years now that Nanami has abandoned the dating scene, if not for his sake than for the sake of his next girlfriend. Though, he can’t help but have moments of tenderness in which he thinks that maybe all of his occupational achievements would have been more gratifying if he had someone to share them with.

He clears his throat, lowering his voice back down when he apologizes for getting emotional.

“Don’t say sorry.” You offer a reassuring grin. “I’m sorry for assuming shit about your life. That was uncool of me.”

“Don’t say sorry,” Nanami parrots, returning your grin with a sheepish one of his own, and tilts his head toward his shoulder. “I didn’t exactly mind the compliments.”

“Conceited bastard.”

He hides his simper well behind his mug. “I’d still like to know what makes you happy, if that offer is still on the table.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just would like to.” Nanami licks his lower lip, eyes grazing yours. “Do I need a more convoluted reason than that?”

Your face reads like a book. It tells him don’t be a smartass, so he yields to your unimpressed frown. “You’re not gonna like my answer. Working makes me happy.”

The revelation doesn’t shock him. “You are demonstrably proficient, Y/n. In my professional opinion, I have no doubts that you’ll be successful.” Nanami does his best to mirror your sincerity.

“More successful than you?” You tease.

“Oh forget me, I give it five years before you’re replacing Gakuganji,” he laughs gently before pressing a finger to his lips, mimicking secrecy. “Let’s keep that between us, though.”

“The day you take orders from me is the day I can die happy.”

I wouldn’t mind that day.

“But to be honest, I think it cuts deeper than the success aspects. Ah, It’s kinda hard to put it into words…” You take a moment to string together an explanation while Nanami waits patiently. “I’m sort of a mess in my personal life. I fuck a lot of things up, I make bad judgement calls, I can get a little lazy sometimes—I just do shit wrong. Or at least, that’s what I feel like.”

Nanami hangs on every word.

“So, like, to come to work everyday and be organized and–and put on this presentation of competency,” your tongue clicks sweetly, “I need that. I need people to see me that way—I think that’s why it affected me so much when you… when you saw me…”

“At the party?” He clarifies.

You purr in agreement. “Yeah. That. I felt like, I don't know, like I shattered my whole ‘persona’ and you saw me. You really saw me.”

He can’t look away from you. The way you’re visibly shrinking, collapsing in on yourself like a wounded animal. Constricting your own torso with your arms in a self-soothing hug. Are you ashamed?

When Nanami finally speaks, he keeps his voice calm. Soft and cottony. “Do you always have such degrading thoughts about yourself?”

“I wouldn’t call it degradation…”

“I would.” Brows furrow, and he leans further into the conversation with his elbows on the island’s surface. “You talk about yourself as if you’re two separate people.”

“Don’t you see it, too?” You ask him gravely, as though you’re hinging on Nanami’s opinion. Like his insubstantial assessment of you is the only thing that matters. “You won’t offend me, I swear.”

Unperturbed, he blinks. “Not at all.”

“Then you’re fucking blind,” you cluck. “Those glasses aren’t doing much for you.”

Nanami nips the inner seam of his cheek, unamused. Right now, he isn’t much in the mood for jokes. Not when he now understands the extent of the disdain that you have for yourself. It irks him that you can’t see how rare of a person you are.

“My eyesight has no relevance, stop deflecting with humor.” “I’m not deflecting!”

“Yes, you are. Now please, stop and let me talk for a moment,” Nanami shows you his palm, and you find your silence. “You are not two people, Y/n, you’re just one. Just you. Sure, you have your quirks and flaws—as does everyone else—but they are what makes you you. They make you nice to be around.”

“You think I’m nice to be around?”

“We meet nearly every weekend now, have you been under the impression that I hated your presence?”

“It’s hard to tell with you sometimes. I assumed you were still hanging out with me because you felt like you owed me. Which you totally did, by the way.” You purse your lip together, stiff. “But, um, your debt has long been paid, especially with this delicious breakfast. So… y’know, if you don’t want to go out, you can just tell me.”

A breathy, humorous exhale huffs through Nanami’s nostrils. “I am a grown man. If I don’t want to do something, then I won’t do it. This,” he gestures between himself then you, “isn’t occurring out of pity or some strange form of charity. You’re here right now because I want you to be, okay?”

That little declaration pulls a coy smile from you, something Nanami introspectively overthinks. He tells himself that you’re blushing, just barely noticeable past your complexion. “Okay.” You whisper, the apples of your cheeks more pronounced than he’s ever seen them before.

Baring witness to a skittish Y/n was not on the docket for Nanami’s Sunday. He’s aware that this little discussion should stop. It was enroute to breaching something—something intimate and foreign and never to be acknowledged between you both. Unspoken chemistry that Nanami intended to let shrivel up and rot within his core because he doesn’t have the strength to snuff out the beacon of light you’ve shown in his life when he inevitably ruins yet another relationship.

But…

“I’ve had more fun in the past month than in my twenty-seven years of life. With you, I mean. So please don’t shun the side of you that exists outside of the office, because you have this spark that I haven’t seen in any of my associates in a long time. I’m… I would be upset if you let yourself turn into another copy-and-paste corporate zombie.”

There is an obvious shift in the kitchen air. It’s blossomed deep and heavy; Nanami feels like it’s become a struggle to keep himself from sinking into the floor. Your gaze is bolted to him, his to yours, in a quiet exchange of consciousness. Can you hear his thoughts? You look at him so intensely, he fears you might be able to hear how beautiful he thinks you look under the fluorescent light bulbs fixed into the ceiling.

You slip off your stool. Nanami watches your trek around the curve of the island. Onto his side.

It’s through feathery lashes that you look up at him.

“Do you find me attractive?”

The spine you have to ask such an audacious question. Visceral palpitations strike through the beating organ in his chest. His hand brushes the ledge of the countertop, then grips it for stability. “Yes.” So attractive, that he felt he could die right now.

“Even after I vomited on your shoes?”

“I thought you didn’t remember last night?” Nanami goads.

“It’s coming back to me.”

You feign cheekiness. “Yeah,” he swallows, taking a shaky breath for himself. “Still beautiful.”

Beautiful, even with remnants of day-old eyeliner smudges below those doe eyes. Messy in the most enticing way. An urge swells within Nanami, to cradle your precious face and swipe the makeup off your flesh with his thumb. However, you moved first.

Reaching upwards, you pluck the pair of glasses off his nose. He lets you. Folded, they sit on the island.

Nanami gives a subtle shake of his head, tonguing the sharp corner of his lip. “What are you doing?” It comes out hushed, like he’s telling a secret.

“I don’t know,” you reply impishly.

The following events can only be categorized as amorous. Ever so slowly, your hand touches. Pressing to his chest, feeling every valley and peak on its ascension to his collarbone. It peeks out from over top the collar of his raggedy, white tee shirt, and you feel him there. Offhandedly, he believes this may be the first time you’ve seen him outside of suitwear. Long, languid breaths keep him grounded, but Nanami can barely stand this torture. Though for you, he does. He lets you touch everything you want, biting his lip all the while.

“What are you doing?” It comes again, more breathy than the last.

You don’t answer, far too enraptured by the panes of his neck. He feels you drag a fingertip down the trail of a vein. Resolve unravels, he’s slipping.

“Kento.”

If he looked into a mirror at this moment, would he even recognize himself? Nanami knows he’s a better man than this. It should take more than the pillowy drawl of his name to snap the wavering thread of self-discipline within him.

Chest touches chest; he’s got you trapped against the kitchen island. The same island you both were sharing breakfast with five minutes ago. The same island, Nanami kisses you now.

Your face is sandwiched between two large hands. Nanami holds you to him, angling your neck back so he can grind his tongue deeper into your warm throat. There is no buildup, no preemptive apprehension that repels him from committing to bury himself in your mouth. He kisses you with no regrets, just desire and stifling yearning.

Moans vibrate the slobbery mess. Nanami feels a bouquet of fingers latch onto his hip and pull—he rewards you, sucking sensually against the tip of your tongue. It’s fucking hot. He’s hot. And hard. Nanami’s sweating. He’s grabbing. He’s rubbing. He’s—-

Beep!

The kiss stops synchronously with twin gasps. You gawk up at him, wide-eyed at the sudden auditory intrusion. He’s looking right back down at you, panting.

“It's the oven.”

“Oh.”

All the passion had seemingly drained, Nanami felt the altar in the atmosphere. With all the reluctance in the world, he pushes himself back to give you sizable space. Unsure of how this aftermath would play out. Awkwardly, he clears his throat, swabbing excess saliva from his chin with a palm. “I uhm—I was baking some bread.”

You nod, avoiding eye contact. “That’s cool.”

You look mortified, and that makes him feel mortified. “Y/n, I’m sorry for—”

“It’s fine.”

His heart sinks to his guts. “No, it’s not fine. Please, let me ap—”

“Kento,” you cut him off, “you didn’t do anything wrong. Like, at all, so stop apologizing. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

Nanami’s brows pinch together, and he gapes at that. “You haven’t done a single thing wrong either.” You don’t seem to believe him, what with the way you sway from left foot to right foot, hands twiddling restlessly. Cautious, he takes a step closer. “You look anxious. I’m by no means kicking you out, but I don’t want to keep you here if it makes you uncomfortable. Just say the word and I’ll call you a ride home.”

A sigh graces your kiss-swollen lips, and you bow graciously. “Please, that would be great, thanks.”

“Yeah,” Nanami says gently, moving to fish his phone out of the pocket of his flannel pajama bottoms. “Of course.”

“I’ll go change out of your clothes—”

“Keep them on, I insist.” He’s quick to halt you. “And leave yours upstairs, I’ll run them through the washing machine. We can exchange them tomorrow.”

“I—okay, thank you.” You look so apologetic, it wounds him. “Thank you for everything. For taking me home last night, for breakfast, for–for this.”

“You don’t have to thank me. But you’re very welcome.”

Your taxi shows up a few minutes later. It’s hard to watch you go, especially when you left him on dubious terms. Were you upset by his kiss? Nanami hopes to God that’s not the case. Or maybe you were appalled? Fearful, even?

Nanami needs to turn his brain off—this cancerous spiral of thinking would only send him into a dark pit of guilt, and he had a web meeting later in the evening. After washing the dishes leftover from the breakfast endeavor, he sits on the sofa with his head in his hands

You tasted like fucking maple syrup.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk jk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82 @archivefortoji @alczam02 @kaiparkerwifes @kenz1eluvs @iaminyourfloors @queeen-goldfish @beautifulloverwitch @nxuriah @invisible-mori @hexrts-anatomy @katharinasdiaryy @moonlightazriel @mermaidian02 @squishies0102 @saintkaylaa @vi-ola666 @alettertonana @seeyapizzazz @jtoddlover @macthevirgo

1K notes · View notes

hollyoongs · 5 months

Text

NUMBER ONE ✦ S.JY

pairing scuderia ferrari racer!jake x scuderia ferrari race engineer!fem reader

summary The Australian Grand Prix was something Jake has been looking forward to winning since he entered the F1 races, so when he wins, he also wins a big victory celebration on your part.

genre smut

warnings thigh humping, orgasm denial, fingering, 69, squirting (two times), use of sexual toy (vibrator), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby and princesse), spanking, sub!reader, dom!jake (he's so pussy drunk)

a/n This happens in an alternative universe where en- and bynextdoor are actually F1 racers, only the teams that actually play in F1 remains the same and I've the permission of my friend to actually use her format since it's her present, in case you didn't know.

wc +3.9k

As you walked into the bustling Australian Grand Prix track alongside the rest of the Scuderia Ferrari team, the air was charged with excitement. The fans' euphoric screams reverberated throughout the circuit, a cacophony of support for their favorite teams. It was a special Grand Prix, especially for one person in particular, Jake Shim.

For Jake, racing in Australia held significance beyond the adrenaline of competition. It was a melding of his upbringing, shaped both by the country that practically raised him and the Korean customs instilled by his parents. As he donned his racing suit, the blend of cultures felt palpable, driving him to perform at his best on the track.

Amidst the buzz of the paddock, you caught sight of Jake preparing himself. As you made your way over to him, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in his determination and skill. "Hey, Jake," you greeted him with a warm smile, "ready to show them what you're made of out there?"

Jake returned your smile, his eyes alight with determination. "You know it," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. "This one's special, not just for me but for us."

"Don't lie to yourself."

"It's actually true. I'm in my hometown with the girl of my dreams on the team that I've worked so hard to get into."

"Ah, so I'm just the girl of your dreams now?" You teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as you adjusted the lanyard around your neck, indicating your role as a Scuderia Ferrari steward.

Jake chuckled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "Of course not; you're more than that. You're the reality of my dreams," he said, his tone sincere as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Smooth talker," you remarked with a grin, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "But seriously, Jake, I have a good feeling about today. You've been putting in the work, and it's going to pay off."

His smile widened, mirroring the confidence that radiated from him. "Thanks, babe. I'm going to give it my all out there and take that trophy home." He said, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering determination.

"I'm actually looking forward to it because…" You went near him, your lips at the same height as his "I don't want to waste your victory present."

"What do you mean?"

"Want a clue? You know what they say about a nice outfit…" You leaned in, kissing him and making him sigh when you went back again to his ear. "It's what's underneath that counts."

"Jake! It's time to be in position for the practice race." You backed away with an angelic smile for the boss after he called out your boyfriend. He was pushing your boyfriend backwards to his car as Jake was eyeing you up and down with his characteristic flirty smile.

The engines roared to life, filling the air with a symphony of power as the cars lined up on the grid, ready to tear through the track at breakneck speeds. Jake sat in his Ferrari, his focus razor-sharp as he visualized every turn and every maneuver he would need to make to clinch victory on his home turf. Behind him was his friend, Mingi, who was also adjusting to the car and communicating with the staff.

Beside him, the Red Bull of Sunghoon sat poised, his friend exuding confidence as he eyed the competition ahead. Mercedes' Nishimura Ri-Ki, ever the formidable opponent, sat further down the grid, his steely gaze betraying his determination to reclaim the top spot.

McLaren's Kim Sunoo exchanged a grin with Yang Jungwon, his teammate, as they prepared to make their mark on the race. Aston Martin Aramco, with Lee Heeseung and Park Jongseong at the helm, were determined to prove their worth on the track.

Alpine's Han Dongmin, the youngest of all the F1 drivers, shared a nod with his teammate Kim Donghyun, their eyes reflecting the fire of competition burning within. Williams, RB, Kick Sauber, and Haas completed the grid, each team eager to showcase their talents amidst the throngs of fans cheering from the stands.

As the lights above the track blinked to life, signaling the imminent start of the race and the end of the one and only, the tension reached a fever pitch. The air crackled with anticipation, the fans holding their breaths in anticipation of the spectacle about to unfold.

And then, with a deafening roar, the race began.

The cars surged forward, a blur of colors streaking past as they jostled for position in the opening corners. Jake navigated the chaos with precision, his Ferrari darting through the pack as he chased the elusive lead.

Beside him, Sunghoon fought tooth and nail to maintain his position, his Red Bull dancing on the edge of control as he pushed it to its limits. Ri-Ki, ever the strategist, bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

As the race unfolded, the crackle of the radio cut through the roar of the engines, a lifeline connecting Jake and his team to navigate the twists and turns of the track. Amidst the chaos, your voice broke through, a beacon of calm in the storm.

"Jake, you're doing great out there," you said, your tone laced with encouragement. "Just keep your focus, and remember to breathe. You've got this."

Jake's grin was audible through the radio as he replied, his voice brimming with determination. "Thanks, darling. I'm feeling good; I just need to stay sharp."

"Just remember to control the curves in Sector 3 and let me know if there's a problem."

"Yes, ma'am." You let out a small smile with the nickname and started getting nervous for him.

As the laps ticked by, the race intensified, with each corner a battle for supremacy as the drivers pushed themselves and their machines to the absolute limit. Jake only went to the box two times, which made him pass from 4th to 6th, but he was so willing to take the win home, which made him give his all. Jake, fueled by the cheers of the crowd and the support of his team, refused to relent, inching ever closer to the front of the pack.

And then, as the checkered flag loomed on the horizon, Jake made his move. With a daring maneuver, he seized the lead, his Ferrari passing all the cars in front of him, and taking the opportunity of Ri-Ki's and Heeseung's hitting the box, Jake just went for it, his mind going blank for a second.

"And what a story this is for Jake Shim. What a performance! What a comeback! A Ferrari one-two headed by Jake Shim, who wins the Australian Grand Prix"

"Wait… did I hear that correctly?"

"Fuck yeah, you did P1!" You just won!" He clapped fast a few times, and before he sreamed of joy, he just couldn't believe it. He gave the last victory lap to the fans and went straight to his team.

As he climbed from his car, he took off his helmet with a triumphant smile on his face, the staff jumping to him in excitement. He caught sight of you in the crow, your eyes shining with pride. Crossing the paddock, he swept you up in his arms, the taste of victory sweet on his lips as he held you close and tasted your lips in a fond kiss, right before he ran to the podium and received not only the champagne that the three top drivers of the GP opened in a celebratory manner, but when Jake held high and proud the trophy, hearing all the cheers.

As all the events ended and all the staff got together in a happy mood, the head of the team made his way to the center of a circle, a joyful aura shining in him.

"I want to say congratulations to Jake and Mingi; today's performance was amazing, and because of that, we're going to have a celebration!" The boss announced it, his voice booming over the cheers of the team. "And since Ferrari came out on top, we will have a celebration later! So have a good rest, and we will let everyone know where it is after we prepare it. Great job everyone!"

After the exhilarating celebrations and festivities, the adrenaline began to wane, leaving in its wake a pleasant exhaustion that seemed to seep into every muscle and bone. Jake glanced at you, a contented smile gracing his lips as he realized just how much he was looking forward to some quiet time alone with you.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close. "Are you ready to head back to my place? I could use some rest and relaxation after today's excitement."

You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes as you replied, "Lead the way, champion. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way through the bustling paddock and out into the cool evening air, the adrenaline of the race slowly began to ebb away, replaced by a quiet anticipation of the intimate moments to come.

Once you arrived at Jake's house, the soft glow of the lights illuminated the room, casting a warm, inviting aura over everything.

"I'm going to the bathroom." You said, Jake saw your way, and his side smile popped out. You rolled your eyes. "No."

"Come on, you said—"

"I know what I said. Come to the bedroom in twenty." After you said that, you turned around and went to the shared bedroom, feeling his gaze on your ass as you walked out, swaying your hips slightly.

You showered quickly enough to get yourself ready, looking in the mirror every time you did something. You saw yourself, and you were proud of what you saw: the burgundy lingerie covering your body, a 4-piece lingerie set that featured a bra, a g-string pant, and a thigh garter, the floral lace soft underwire bra with garter leg straps highlighting your legs line, the light makeup in contrast to the color of your lips that matched your whole outfit, and of course, the color of your boyfriend team. You were fixing your hair when you heard the door of the bedroom open up. You looked at the time on your phone, and he actually waited twenty minutes.

“Babe? What are you doing?” You opened the door to reveal yourself to Jake, his eyes widening at the image.

Jake stood in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight before him. The soft glow of the bedroom lights played over your figure, accentuating every curve and contour of your body clad in the enticing burgundy lingerie set. His eyes lingered on the delicate lace and the way it hugged your curves in all the right places, igniting a fire of desire within him.

"You… you look incredible," he breathed, his voice husky with desire as he stepped closer, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his words, a smile tugging at your lips as you met his intense gaze. "I'm glad you think so," you murmured, feeling a surge of confidence at his reaction.

Jake closed the distance between you in a few swift strides, his hands reaching out to trace the lines of the lace along your skin. His touch sent shivers racing down your spine, igniting a fire of longing deep within you.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and seductive as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Seeing you like this… It's almost too much to handle."

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his lips trailed along your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, caressing every inch of your exposed skin, leaving you trembling with anticipation.

"You're the winner today," you whispered, your voice barely above a breathless sigh as you melted into his touch, your hands going straight to the buttons of his jeans, opening them up as you moved your hands to remove his shirt. The tattoo on his ribs is on full display, and his necklaces are shining in his neck. "I will do anything that you want. Congratulations, winner."

With a hunger that matched your own, Jake captured your lips in a searing kiss, his desire evident in every movement and every touch. In that moment, all thoughts of the race and of the celebrations faded into the background, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable passion that burned between you.

The kisses followed their level; all the passion could be seen in those kisses, as Jake would not take his hand off your neck and the other one off your figure while making his hair a mess that he could care very little about. They went a little further into bed. You sat Jake down with a gentle push, and you opened his legs with your hands as you kneeled down to him, taking off his pants once and for all.

The moment you stood up, Jake started playing with a thread from your thong, stopping almost immediately when you positioned your entry on his right thigh and stuck your lips to his sensitive neck.

His breath hitched as your lips trailed along his neck, sending shivers down his spine. His fingers tightened around the delicate lace of your lingerie, pulling you closer to him as he let out a low groan of pleasure. Every touch and every whisper of your lips against his skin fueled the fire burning between you, igniting a passion that threatened to consume you both.

As you continued to explore each other's bodies with feverish intensity, time seemed to slow to a standstill, the world outside disappearing as you lost yourselves in each other. With every kiss and every caress, the connection between you deepened, transcending the physical realm and delving into something far more profound.

In that moment, there were no barriers, no inhibitions, just the raw, unbridled passion that bound you together. And as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of desire, you knew that this was just the beginning of a night filled with endless pleasure and exploration.

You could feel how your pants started getting wet with Jake's caresses, especially on occasional taps on your breasts and buttocks. You started with a gentle movement that let out a sigh from your side. You looked for some sign of dissatisfaction in your partner, meeting Jake biting your lower lip while watching your action. Jake dropped the palms of his hands at every slap of your ass, making you pant in combination with a little surprise.

"You're too much for me, baby." Jake threw his head back and raised his hands to your hips, the top of his thigh being soaked by your natural lubricant. You hid your face in the hole connecting his neck and shoulder, his ear receiving your ecstatic jades, making known the wave of pleasure you were feeling. He stopped your movements for a second and handled your hips so that you jumped on his thigh. The vibration they caused went straight to your clitoris, making you moan a little higher than usual.

Jake took his hands out of his place and removed your bra. Delighted with the movements of your breasts with the leaps he made, he took his hands behind him and smiled with a little malice. Jake knew when you were at the edge, repeating his name amidst loud moans and whining so he could fuck you like they both knew they liked.

"You're close, princess?" You gave a loud moan in response, and he took your jaw and made you look at him. "Tell me, baby. Are you going to cum for me?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna cum so bad." You started speeding up, feeling the knot of pleasure about to explode until they were stopped by Jake, who held you as he took out his legs, causing you to shake by the sudden stop.

He once again attracted your lips, holding you as close as he could to calm yourself down and shut the whines from your mouth. His hands snaked to your back thighs and made you jump, your legs wrapping his hips and getting your dripping entrance in touch with his clothed erect member, making him moan in your lips.

Jake left you in bed for a moment, opening the closet in pairs until he found his favorite object. You couldn't hold your breath knowing what was in his hand. He stood in front of the bed with it in his hand, still with that smile you loved, but right now, it made you tremble.

"You told me I could do what I wanted, right?" You nodded without taking your eyes off him as he scanned your body again with desire; you could feel it for miles. "You know how I like to see you."

Without waiting any longer, you sat in bed, making a space for him. Jake took off his annoying boxers, and he was next to you in no time. With a little sign, you put your covered entrance on his face, his lips kissing your inner thighs, which made you sigh with pleasure, still delighted with what you did earlier. You licked your lips when you saw his dick, completely erect and red, desperate to be cared for. Jake's hands completely lowered your last complicated garment, opening your vagina with his two fingers and blowing a little to get a moan out of you that reached his dick, getting him to move a little.

You spat on his dick, feeling his legs shake because of the sudden action. Your right hand caught him, creating a delicious swing that made Jake moan. You could feel your fluids falling into Jake's face because of Jake's stimulation of your clitoris; something he loved too much was seeing your entrance palpitating in anticipation.

"Baby, do you want my fingers first or my tongue?" You liked that thought of it, which makes you close around nothing, and now it was Jake turning to lick his lips. He slapped your ass one more time, making your entrance touch his mouth, the sensation making you stay there. "My good girl wants to be eat out? Making you more wet than you are so my dick can enter your pretty and tight cunt?"

"Fuck yeah, Jake, please eat me out." Your voice sounded so pretty to him that he just forced you down to stay there with his arms in your legs.

"Good fucking girl," for a second, you forgot to continue your movements, the pleasure being too much with his tongue creating circles in your clitoral area and traveling all across your entrance. You starred at your movements on his dick at a faster pace, getting in response to him squeezeing your ass in delight.

Now, your mouth was on his tip, kitten licks being delivered and causing him to twitch. You kept that for more minutes until you felt his two fingers ipening your entrance, your back arching up.

"No matter how many times I fuck you numb, you're still fucking thight. My girl is so thight for me as usual. Fuck, baby." He stopped his words and movements when you entered his dick into your mouth. His deep grunts and moans motivated you, loosing your throat so all of his length went inside. You hollowed your cheeks and controlled your gag reflexes.

"Baby, don't stop; you're such a good girl for me." The pace of his fingers continued faster, distracting you a few times, his cock blocking your loud moans and only the sounds of your wet entrace and his dick having the blowjobs of his life surrounding the room. You felt his dick getting swollen in your mouth, and his grunts just got louder.

You sucked everything out of him until you felt his fingers disappearing from your entrance and the vibration of the vibrator he pulled out on your clitoris. Your mouth was opened for that, and Jake's first drop of sperm stopped right at the back of your throat. Jake's hand took his dick, moving it fast, and let all its essence fall on your face and part of your clavicles, some of it landing inside your mouth. His other hand had stuck the vibrator on you, your body shaking endlessly and your moaning finally being free.

Jake settled in where his head was before; now there was his dick, his fingers going back in, and you felt like any minute you were going to collapse.

"I know you're going to cum, but you have to wait one minute. Can my good girl do that?"

"Yes, Jake. I can do that." Jake turned up the speed of it, and you just shoved your head into the pillow, hearing him count so slowly that you were staring to get a tear in your eye. One minute passed, and he smiled proudly.

"Cum all over my dick, baby," as you did it. His fingers made more obvious the amount of squirt coming down to his dick and legs, wetting your lower bodies for another minute, and he did not stop his fingers until you had nothing. You got on all fours after a few seconds of watching him move his dick up and down again., him puching you like you were before. Your ass up and your face planted on the mattress. "Stay like that."

"For fuck sakes, Jake. Let me—oh shit." His dick opened up your entrance suddenly after he put the condom in, your moans matching as you felt your mind going cloudy. Jake threw his head back as he slowly pushed himself to touch your sweet spot. You screamed in pleasure when he did it, being silenced by the pillow you were biting.

He couldn't wait, and his movements were fast, your ass moving like waves every time he thrust himself into you. Jake got as much noise as you, your thightness making him touch the sky, and your moans getting messier and louder once again.

"Jake, I'm cumming again."

"You're not. Not until I come first so that you can cum in my mouth." He felt how you clenched, and he slapped your ass. He took your hair in a messy ponytail and arched your back. "You want to cum? Then wait." The sound of your bodies colliding got faster, and he captured your lips when he felt like cumming completely. Once he left you, he grabbed the vibrator, reaching it to the tenth level. You held his arms, finally letting out the screams you were holding while that toy was inside you and your fingers in your clitoral area.

He laid down to face your cunt again. "Good job, baby. Make a mess all over me." His tongue got out of his mouth, and the view was enough to make you squirt bigger than the last one. Jake was so pussy drunk that he just went up a few seconds to have it all.

The heavy breathing of both of you was loud. Jake gently massaged your legs as you fell on the bed again, right next to him as he kissed you gently. The tiredness was invading both of you, but even with how tired you were, you smiled at him.

"How was your celebration?"

"Better than the trophy, for sure. You were perfect; you're perfect. I don't deserve you."

"Congratulations, my number one."

2K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 1 month

Text

jeonghan as a sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, teasing, mommy kink, pussy eating, cock riding, jeonghan begging for some pussy, challenges. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

jeonghan was always clear about what he wanted—expensive shit, nothing less. “i’m a high-maintenance guy, y/n,” he’d say with that devilish grin, leaning back in his chair, fingers casually drumming on the table. he expected you to play the game, shower him with designer bags, watches, whatever fit the bill of his extravagant taste. but you? you had other plans.

the day you pulled up outside his place in a brand new taycan porsche, you watched as he froze, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with disbelief. “holy shit,” he muttered under his breath, feet glued to the sidewalk as he stared at the car like it was a goddamn spaceship. you couldn’t help but smirk, loving the way you’d just turned the tables. he thought he could predict you, but you kept him on his toes, and the more he tried to one-up you, the more outrageous the gifts became.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, half to himself. “a porsche? for me?”

“you said you liked nice things,” you shrugged, trying to play it off, but inside, you were loving every second of his disbelief.

each time you saw that flicker of surprise in his eyes, it was like a victory. you loved spoiling him, watching him get lost in the luxury you provided, but it wasn’t just about the money. it was about showing him that you were serious, that you weren’t just some sugar mama playing a game.

months passed, and with each lavish gift, each luxurious spa treatment, every custom-tailored suit, he slowly realized you weren’t just playing around. you could—and would—spoil him until he was drowning in everything he ever wanted. and maybe it was that realization that shifted something in him.

“y/n,” he’d say, that velvety tone wrapping around your name like a caress. he was sweeter, more affectionate, like he was trying to show his gratitude in the only way he knew how. but you noticed something else, too—he wanted more.

all those expensive dinners, all those nights you’d spent together, and yet there was one thing he hadn’t had yet. you.

jeonghan wasn’t shy about it, either. the more time you spent together, the bolder he became. he’d touch your thigh under the table, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered things that made your pulse race. “when are you gonna let me have you, hmm?” he’d ask, voice low and teasing, but you always made him wait, loving the way it drove him crazy.

you’d just arrived at the hotel, exhausted after a long day, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. “i can’t wait anymore,” he whined, his voice low and needy as he pressed himself against you in the elevator. “please, i need to taste you, feel you.”

“not here,” you hissed, trying to keep some semblance of composure as the elevator dinged, doors opening to your floor.

but by the time you made it to the room, you could see it in his eyes—he was on the edge. he pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind him, his hands already working to strip you out of your clothes. “let me have you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your neck, his voice dripping with desperation.

when he finally got you on the bed, he didn’t waste a second, sliding into you with a teasing slowness that made you curse under your breath. “mommy,” he murmured, that devilish grin on his lips as he pulled back just enough to make you want to scream. “you’ve spoiled me rotten… let me spoil you.”

but you weren’t about to let him have all the control. you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper, making him gasp as you took back what you’d been holding out on. “you want to tease me, baby?” you whispered against his ear, your voice low and dangerous. “think you can handle it?”

he tried, he really did. but the moment you started riding him, all that bravado melted away, replaced with breathless moans and frantic gasps as he bucked beneath you, his hands gripping your hips like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“you’ve been such a good boy, han,” you purred, leaning forward to nip at his ear, loving the way his body responded to your touch. “so fucking spoiled, but you’ve been patient, haven’t you?”

“y-yeah,” he stammered, his hands moving to your waist, trying to pull you down harder, faster. but you kept it slow, teasing him, making him work for it.

when you finally start riding him with a ferocity that had the bed creaking under the strain, he was a mess of moans and curses, his hands everywhere, trying to touch you, to keep you close.

and then there were the moments when you’d switch things up, when he’d be on his knees, head buried between your thighs, his tongue working you over like he was starving, like tasting you was the only thing that mattered. you’d grab his hair, pulling him closer, making sure he couldn’t escape, not that he wanted to.

but the night wasn’t over until you had him on his back, his arms pinned above his head, your nails leaving little red trails down his chest as you rode him again, harder this time, making him lose his fucking mind.

“fuck, mommy,” he’d moan, voice wrecked, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with need. “please… i can’t… i need to…”

but you weren’t done with him, not until you were both completely spent, tangled together in a mess of sweat and sheets, the city lights of tokyo blinking softly outside the window as you finally let him collapse against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“still think i’m playing?” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath as you kissed the top of his head.

438 notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 9 months

Text

all it takes ☆ mv1

genre: humor, fluff, angst

word count: 1k

cherry here!... i know it’s been a while - and i’m sorry! - but i hope a small drabble makes up for it! hope you guys like it!

Where Max doesn’t believe love exists for him until he finds his way to you.

Often, there would be times where Max wondered if there existed the possibility that something was wrong with him. Unlike him, his friends would fall into loving relationships - marriages, even - and he was just sort of…stuck.

At first, he really couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t really worry, either. Until one day.

“Max,” he stutters as he gently shakes your hand. You radiate so much happiness and innocence in life that it had him intrigued.

It was a Friday night and he had agreed for drinks with Daniel and Checo to celebrate…God…he can’t even remember. He had kept to himself, occasionally jumping into the conversation that flowed between the other two RedBull drivers.

He hadn’t noticed you; the Australian had.

“Poor girl. She’s just trying to get a glass of water.”

Angling his head to look back towards the bar, he sees you. The way you keep raising your hand as if you were back in elementary school, waiting to be called on. To be noticed. The way your dress keeps rising up in the process. His breath hitches.

“She’s fine.”

“Oh. You’re hitting on her!”

“That’s a first,” Checo teases as he takes a sip of whiskey. Max blushes.

“I-I’m not! All I said is that she’ll be fine - she’ll get her drink eventually.”

“It could happen a lot faster if you go over and help her out. C’mon.”

It took a bit of convincing, but reluctantly, he agreed. The Dutch tried to hide his nervousness with a smile. As he got closer, he made sure to wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans.

“Hi.”

The moment you look up at him. He knew he messed up.

“Listen, man, I’m not looking for a one night stand, so…shoo.”

Suddenly, he’s reminded of why he never bothers to try. Swiftly, you go back to ignoring him as you pick up on your mission. He narrows his eyes, clearing his throat before slamming his hand down against the shiny wood.

“Can I get a glass of water, please?”

The bartender nods as he fills one up and slides it to the blue eyed boy before turning back to face greedy customers. Without a single smile, Max just hands it to you before waking off. You frown, bringing up the glass against your lips.

“So much sexual tension. I could tell from all the way here.” Max flips Daniel off.

“Sexual tension my ass. She was a snarky little-”

“Hi.”

“Whoopsie! My bad!” Feverishly, you bend down to pick up Crofty’s microphone as you hurry to hand it back before continuing your run towards the podium. Moments like these would always feel surreal and you can’t help but feel fortunate to be a part of all this. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse m-”

“Can’t you see she’s trying to get through?”

As soon as you make eye contact with the man who makes your world flip upside down, a smile slips onto your lips. Crushing him into a tight hug, you bury your face into his race suit.

“You did it! You did it! Oh my God-”

“I’m used to it by now.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you lightly slap his chest. “Don’t do that, Emilian.” Heat rushes up to the Dutch’s cheeks as he looks around to see if anyone overheard. And there’s just no way the attention wouldn’t be on him. A Championship is all it takes.

“Oke, oke, that’s enough.” He lowers himself to whisper into your ear. “Do I get a prize or something like that?”

“We’ll see.”

“All it took was two years.” Daniel leans back against his chair as he stares back at you and Max with wide eyes. “Two nasty years and suddenly there’s no more stone cold heart.” Making sure to grab your hands across the table, he rubs the diamond in deep thought before looking back at you. “How did you do it?”

“Pussy. That’s how.”A sharp gasp escapes past Kika’s lips as she punches Pierre’s arm. The Frenchman hisses in pain as he scoots away.

And up to this day, it still remains a mystery. As some cruel joke, your fiancé would joke and say that it was some sort of black magic. The joke later had to be retired due to Yuki getting goosebumps after a night of research.

Not funny, you would point out as you console the Japanese boy who sits next to his bright laptop.

It’s not my fault he believes it!

He believes everything, you know that, Emilian!

Stop it with that.

Brushing his long fingers against the nape of your neck, he smiles probably the truest version he was ever capable of showing.

“Her heart is pretty easy to love.”

“Pink or blue?” Tossing over to face you and your wedding sketches - that honestly looked like a plot of how to get away with murder - he groans. This isn’t a baby shower, love. Kicking him underneath the covers, you cover your eyes as the stress finally gets to you. “It’s a summer wedding! It would be nice! A pastel perhaps or maybe neon - ew no.”

He’s about to laugh until he notices droplets sliding down your arms. Almost immediately, he sits up with urgency as he brushes your hair softly. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Blue. Let’s do blue.” No. It’s stupid. And ugly. He winces as he kisses your shoulder. “It’s not!”

“Yes it is!” Bloodshot orbs stare back at him as you breathe heavily. “Daniel said it, Lando said it, God - even Pierre! Since when does he have better taste than us?”

“Pierre has the mind of a newborn, how would he know?” As soon as you crack a smile, he eases up. “If you don’t like either, then we could try coming up with something new. How about green?” Your smile drops as you wail against his arms.

“That’s even worse! You’re lucky I love you.”

“All it took was a fight for you both to call off the wedding?”

Staring blankly at the wall, Max shrugged. Everything almost seemed to serve no purpose if you weren’t a part of his daily life. He had gotten so used to having you around and bouncing off the walls like a kid who had too much sweets. Where had it all gone wrong? He doesn’t even know.

“Her heart is pretty good at holding a grudge.”

1K notes · View notes

leathercollectionus · 10 months

Photo

Custom Made Race Suits

Motorsport has a remarkable history that began in the late 19th century after the invention of cars and motorcycles. Much advances have been made in the technology, design, format, and rules of the sport since its inception, but nothing is more exciting than a motorcycle race. It involves science, speed, commitment, vision, passion and a lot of risks too. Despite all the risks, motorcycle racing is considered the most important motorsport, not only the most important motorsport but also one of the fastest-growing sports in the world, which is gaining popularity among everyone regardless of gender and age. In order to enjoy the games, you need to practice practicing techniques, technologies, and especially safety on the circuit, not only to minimize the risks but also to regain confidence in the sports discipline.

You cannot eliminate the risk factor because the unfortunate event will happen no matter when. However, you can minimize the impact by having protective equipment that meets the athletic and athletic requirements. For motorcycle races on the track and on the road, for beginners, passionate or professional, we recommend a full kangaroo or a cow leather that you choose. The leather racing suit with all its protective armor is resistant to abrasion, cuts and impacts. With a high-tech leather racing suit you can test the limits of your own and that of your machine. Getting a leather racing suit isn’t a huge problem these days. You can visit nearby stores or order online and have delivery to your address. Almost all of the major brands of motorcycle leather clothing have online services to save their customers time and money, which is very impressive. But even after buying a racing suit, something is still missing. This can be leather quality, durability issues, ergonomic inconveniences, size and fit issues, standard safety armor, poor stitching, and especially disappointing customer service. Leather Collection, an emerging global brand, has filled these gaps with years of experience and a dedicated team.

Custom Made Race Suits

#custom #CUSTOM LEATHER JACKETS #custom leather motorcycle suit #custom leather suit #custom leathers #custom made leather suits #custom motorcycle racing suit #custom motorcycle suits #custom race suit #custom racing suit #custom suit #made to measure suits #motorcycle race suits #racing suits

0 notes

world0fmadness · 2 months

Text

HONEY HAMILTON

lewis hamilton x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

♡ how winnie hamilton / honey came to be!

୨୧ just some fluffy girl dad stuff with lewis <3

♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: no moon at all by julie london - oceans by new navy - climbing walls by strange talk

♡ you found out you were pregnant right around christmas time!

୨୧ to say you were excited to tell lewis would be an understatement…

♡ you were practically bouncing off the walls, thinking of cute ways to tell him! he noticed how smiley you were but didn’t comment on it, figuring you were just excited for christmas

୨୧ you decide to wait until christmas day to tell him, preparing a little box with a miniature version of lewis’ race suit inside reading “ mini hamilton ” on the back, wrapping it and placing it under the tree when you were happy

♡ eventually, christmas rolls around and you tell him to please leave that gift for the last! he’s a little confused but thinks it’s just something really good ( oh yeah, it is )

୨୧ when he finally gets around to it, unwraps it and opens the box… he thinks it’s a little outfit for roscoe at first but when he really pulls it out and looks at it, you can see the gears turning in his head, the exact moment it clicks and his brown eyes light up like the sparkling lights wrapped around your christmas tree

“ are you serious? oh my god… bloody hell, i thought it was for roscoe… c’mere love ” ( you spend at least five minutes just hugging on the floor while he tells you this is the greatest christmas gift he’d ever received )

♡ when you guys tell the other drivers, they’re all so happy for you! they quickly decide between themselves that there can only be one favourite uncle…

୨୧ this leads to way too many gifts, some things that the baby won’t even be able to use until they’re older!

♡ though it does make you and lewis laugh when you walk into the paddock and are immediately bombarded by drivers giving you wrapped gifts

୨୧ george decides he won after he bought a custom made mini replica of lewis’ race car ( you think he won too, i mean it’s just too cute and unique )

♡ lewis is just the absolute best when it comes to you being pregnant, he sort of really wishes you’d sit on the couch with your feet up and a drink in your hand while he paints your nails but if you feel sad just sitting around constantly, he’ll gladly go on walks with you and roscoe around the countryside

୨୧ once on one of these walks, your foot made a weird movement and almost twisted but he caught you as soon as it happened… he swears he felt his heart stop beating in his chest!

♡ when you find out you’re having a girl, lewis is over the moon! he’d be happy with any gender but he can’t wait to have a little girl and do her hair and spoil her rotten and play barbies with her…

୨୧ you both have a little cry in the car outside of the clinic, just so happy to know your baby is healthy and you’re getting a girl… the crying doesn’t last long though, soon enough you’re craving a milkshake with french fries and ask lewis to grab some takeout on the way home

♡ when you’re giving birth, lewis just feels terrible… he can’t handle seeing you in so much pain :(

୨୧ but he comforts you the best he can, drawing patterns on the back of your hand while you almost break his

♡ when you finally give birth, lewis starts crying right along with his baby’s first cry

୨୧ when he does skin to skin, you ogle him from the hospital bed which he quickly takes note of and sends a cheeky wink over to you

“ careful with your eyes love, we don’t need you getting pregnant again just yet… ” ( you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face )

♡ the absolute hardest thing lewis has ever had to go through was winnie’s teething process…

୨୧ he was a MESS! he didn’t know how to cope

♡ he absolutely hated seeing his sweet little baby winnie in so much pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to help her except keep giving her the ice teething toys :(

“ awh, winnie, i’m sorry, i know it hurts honey, i know… you’re being so strong though hm? my brave girl ” ( you’d make sure to give him lots of reassurance that he’s doing the best he can to help her through it )

୨୧ unsurprisingly, winnie’s favourite cartoon turns out to be winnie the pooh!

♡ she watches it religiously with lewis, constantly letting out airy giggles around her bottle while lewis admires her with nothing but love in his eyes

୨୧ he nicknamed her honey because… well… y’know, winnie the pooh loves honey and she’s as sweet as honey ( not to mention she got his beautiful eyes, brown but almost golden, like a pot of honey ) he thinks it’s pretty straight forward <3

♡ sebastian is a HUGE fan of the nickname, he thinks it’s just adorable and calls her honey bee whenever he comes to visit! he’s her favourite uncle for sure, you guys have trouble getting her out of his arms, she sticks to him… sticks to him like honey <3

୨୧ everytime lewis is abroad for a race, he goes into the city to buy her a new plushie!

♡ it became a ritual between them super early in winnie’s life, he felt horrible for having to leave her for races so he’d bring back a plushie that made him think of her to make up for it and she’d have a piece of him at home whenever he left again

୨୧ her room is absolutely full to the brim with plushies now… she has shelves lining her walls to showcase them! there are at least ten winnie the pooh plushies

♡ when she’s old enough to come abroad to races with him, you do take her! the plushie collecting doesn’t stop there though, he just takes her with him to the stores to pick her own plushie!

୨୧ her absolute favourite places to go are countries with big beaches

♡ she’s a major beach baby! when you took her to a beach for the first time, she was super freaked out by how the sand felt and lewis thought it was adorable… holding her hands and standing her on the warm sand while you cheered her on and recorded from the side

୨୧ but when she got over how different the sand felt and sat down on a towel, she couldn’t stop picking up sand in her tiny chubby hands and watching it fall through the cracks of her fingers

♡ she thinks roscoe on the beach is just the funniest thing ever too, constantly giggling while he attempts to dig a whole in the sand, her happiness only adding to yours and lewis’

୨୧ whenever she brings him little seashells she’s collected, he keeps them! usually he’ll get them made into super nice necklaces or bracelets or just collect a big handful of them and you guys will make it into a cute little art piece to put on the wall <3

♡ he kind of keeps ANYTHING she gives him…

୨୧ if his winnie gave it to him, there’s no way he’s putting it in the bin! piece of string? thank you honey! rock from the driveway? how thoughtful!

♡ all of the random things he’s collected over her toddler years are stored in a big jar that sits on his desk

୨୧ because of how much winnie loves the beach, you and lewis made the decision to move into a house in a beach town!

♡ with the beach basically being in your backyard, you can never get winnie off the beach now… same goes for lewis

୨୧ you’ll walk out of the back door and spot them sitting on a towel together

♡ usually making a sand castle or lewis covering her lower body in sand, moulding it to make her look like a mermaid and taking pictures <3 lewis usually spots you and calls you over

୨୧ christmas time is extremely special to you and lewis since you found out about your little winnie’s existence near christmas and he found out on christmas day!

♡ so you guys go all out for her first christmas! he gets the biggest, most beautiful tree and you decide to make it winnie themed! the ornaments consisting of custom made porcelain winnie the pooh characters and tiny photo frames showcasing pictures from all different times in your relationship… roscoe lays sleeping on the couch in a little reindeer costume

୨୧ lewis holds her on his hip, leaning her up gently and letting her place almost all of them on whilst you take pictures before joining them

♡ when christmas day rolls around, you spend almost the whole day in your pyjamas, relaxing in front of the fireplace! only getting dressed when you go to visit lewis’ parents house for christmas dinner <3 winnie gets dressed up in the cutest little velvet red and black dress with bow in her hair, matching you, whilst lewis wears a sleek but comfy outfit going by the same colour scheme! safe to say his parents were big fans of winnie’s outfit, cooing at her the entire time you were there

୨୧ when the day rolls into night, you guys are home and winnie is put to bed, you and lewis stay on the couch for a bit… just cuddled up with roscoe by your feet, eventually you feel his eyes on you and ask him if he’s okay

“ am i okay? i’m amazing love… just can’t believe i’m here, with winnie and you… i love it, i love you and her so much, you know that? ” ( the soft kisses he placed on your lips after were so full of love, so full of admiration… he was just so content )

♡ you and lewis decided this was the best christmas you’d ever had, just barely beating last christmas because winnie is actually in your arms now

୨୧ lewis and winnie are ALWAYS making you breakfast in bed!

♡ well, lewis is always making you breakfast in bed… winnie is usually just sitting in her high chair at the breakfast counter, letting out high pitched giggles at the mere sight of roscoe trudging around below her feet, lewis leaning over and feeding her tiny pieces of fruit every couple of minutes

“ good strawberry, winnie? yeah? thank you honey, my little food critic ”

୨୧ lewis eventually gets a little tattoo of a honey pot on his upper chest, just above his heart… he says he wanted something that symbolised his love for his honey <3 something that would always make his honey close to his heart…

♡ and close to his heart she is…

lewishamilton and ynln: winnie’s first christmas, filled with nothing but love and presents for our honey 🍯 🎄 🎁

georgerussell ✔️: did she like my present?! i put a lot of thought into it

> lewishamilton ✔️: yeah, she loved it mate! thanks again, yn says thanks as well

> georgerussell ✔️: only the best for my niece 💪

lewynforever: oh my god… she’s getting so big already

> f1lover: right? i remember when they posted that they were expecting a baby 🥹

> lewynforever: time flies…

sebastianvettel ✔️: sending lots of love to you guys and your little honey bee! have a good christmas lewis and yn - sebastian ❤️

> ynln: thank you sebastian! sending many kisses from honey, merry christmas ❤️

#lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #f1 smau #fluff headcanons #headcanons

618 notes · View notes

keepthedelta · 2 months

Text

thinking about the rosberg family and how a kardashian or dts style documentary about them would be amazing.

you have keke rosberg, a hard racing cigar smoking legend of motorsport from one of it's most dangerous eras, whose name literally means pixie rose mountain. the man who basically invented formula one in finland but was hated by his own media for being too cosmopolitan and when they tried to recognise his achievements refused to let them put his face on a postage stamp because he wouldn't make money off of it. studied to be a dentist but missed the entrance exam and became a racing driver instead. got out of having to take german in school by persuading the master that he would never need it but as soon as he met a hot older german woman went so insane over her that he proposed just months after meeting her and agreed to make it their primary language at home. set a record for the fastest lap in f1 history that lasted until 2004, won his first f1 race and then won a world championship before he won his second. known as a crazy racer who would go through you if you didn't let him past. also the softest dad who loves his baby boy more than anything else.

then there's sina, the coolest person in the rosberg family. was so hot and smart and talented that a man willingly sacrificed his cultural identity to be her husband. professional interpreter who knows a bunch of languages and taught them to her polyglot son. married a f1 world champion but hated his driving so much that she drove herself everywhere, even to events that she attended with him. showed up finland's independence day ball in a suit and bow tie against all dress customs. planned to give birth on her own because it's basically the same thing as going to the dentist, and she doesn't need a man for that. has an f1 champion husband and son and still banned f1 talk in her house for nico's entire career. got so nervous watching her baby race that she vacuumed the entire apartment each time. ditched her husband in dubai so that she could make it to the track to see nico become world champion in person. got drunk and talked about keke's sperm on live television.

nico rosberg, the saddest wettest kitten who ever lived. the most beloved baby in the world. cried at everything as a child. cried when he lost at tennis and when he won. uber competitive. incredibly athletic, competing internationally in karting and tennis. total nerd who had no trouble with his schoolwork despite missing school constantly and got accepted into imperial college london to study engineering. at the time the youngest person to ever drive an f1 car. the biggest single cause of sexuality crises in motorsport since 2006. was once sponsored by the german version of mtv. nicknamed after a teen pop sensation. met the love of his life when he was four and hit her over the head with a bucket while they were making sandcastles. had an incredibly difficult incredibly public divorce from a man he was never legally married to. dropped the mic said thank u, next and is so so happy in his retirement. has stripped down to his underwear on television and done a river clean up in designer coats. boy mom to an orange cat, girl dad to human children. loves his daughters more than anything, the kind of man who will leave a 2 million dollar car on a hill to hitchhike, with his videographer, to his daughters's christmas party. can pinpoint the amount of time lost in a corner exactly and needs everyone to know about it. deeply annoying, absolutely hilarious, incredibly kind.

and of course, vivian. ceo of the rosberg family. still planning the long game revenge on nico for hitting her with a bucket when they were children, born in germany, studied design in milan, can party harder than f1 drivers. has done the interior design for private jets, because apparently that's a thing. owner, creator and namesake of the best rated ice cream shop in the balearics. makes her daughters matching outfits for a taylor swift concert and publicly teases her husband for not being a fan. stages elaborate christmas photos with a different colour theme every year. wore a white dress with turquoise louboutins and chanel bag to match nico's race suit in one of the most iconic and yet deeply underappreciated wag moments in f1 history. ruined them with champagne but didn't care. wants her children to be happy. definitely pegs her husband.

most interesting motorsport family of all time. forget dts, i just want to know about them

#the chances of this happening are less than zero #but. i want it #rosberg family #keke rosberg #nico rosberg #sina rosberg #vivian rosberg

477 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 7 months

Text

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…”

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #smut #virgin reader #bucky barnes x female reader #dbf!bucky barnes #16.666 followers requests #TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes)

847 notes · View notes