#Heated Car Accessories

[heatedit]

https://heatedit.com

heated it is a reviews website that specifically provides reviews and information about heated products that generate heat, such as heated blankets, heated jackets, heated socks, and other similar items. These products are used to warm people in cold weather.

On a heated products reviews site, users can find information on the different types of heated products available, their features, and how they work. They can also read reviews from other users who have purchased and used the products, which can help them make informed decisions before buying.

This site provides detailed reviews and recommendations for various heated products, buying guides, and other helpful consumer information.

[trade-hut-direct-diy-store]

KunyS Workright Winter Flex Grip Gloves (Lined) - Large

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[ur-mag]

Drivers are rushing to buy a heated car accessory that scans at checkout for $39 – and it could save you from frostbite | In Trend Today

Drivers are rushing to buy a heated car accessory that scans at checkout for $39 – and it could save you from frostbite Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[almostempty]

Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that. 

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy? 

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic? 

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 2 here | part 3 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk  

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift. 

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him. 

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that. 

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories. 

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach. 

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there. 

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked. 

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right? 

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible. 

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway. 

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course! 

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life. 

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench. 

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is. 

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep. 

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? 

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything. 

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench. 

Still, no Joel, however. 

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls. 

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.   

The next moment is a blur. 

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone. 

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow. 

“What are you doing here?” he barks. 

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run. 

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster. 

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist. 

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you. 

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face. 

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch. 

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon? 

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead. 

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal. 

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic. 

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?” 

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door. 

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it. 

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop. 

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face. 

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk. 

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans. 

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues. 

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately. 

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock. 

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts. 

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm. 

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now. 

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core. 

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock. 

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop. 

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess.  You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one. 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin. 

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor. 

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you. 

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back. 

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer. 

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin. 

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours. 

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief. 

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point. 

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?” 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare. 

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.” 

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked. 

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.” 

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle. 

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat. 

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him. 

“You need more?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum. 

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon. 

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene. 

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision. 

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.” 

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. 

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move. 

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door. 

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose. 

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize. 

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display. 

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen: 

Joel

Attachment 1 image

part 2 here | part 3 here

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

[soleilapproves]

Mechanic Sukuna purposely lies about your car so he can see you again.

Notes: not proofread, fem!reader

main masterlist

Sweaty, grimy, and greasy. Three adjectives you’d use to describe the local repair shop. It was always filled with muscled men who always seemed to have a permanent scowl on their face, intimidating anyone who wanted help with their vehicle.

Which is why you always sent your (only) male friend there to order any kind of complicated repair work on your behalf. As a woman, you did not want to be subject to all the scrutinizing stares and intentionally inflated prices for services that would otherwise be cheap or free of charge.

Your car was your baby. A haven if you will. It was much better to take naps in there rather than sit and do homework in the library during the long gaps in your class schedule. It was the best to use in the late months of spring, with the AC blowing right in your face as you dreamt about sleeping on an iceberg.

But alas, it also had to break down when the heat was at its highest and your friend had gone on a trip with his partner.

You were now conditioned to go to the place you dreaded most. You got rid of all your pretty accessories stuck and dangling off of different parts of your car. You were not going to be a victim of chauvinism. Especially not by mechanics- it just hurts more with them of all people.

As expected, all eyes were on you (mainly because you were the only girl in the shop and you looked like you had seen a ghost). All the men there looked like they belonged to a gang- brutish, crass words slipping out of their mouths like it was nothing, grease all over their faces, and regular safety uniforms altered to show off their muscle tank tops.

Your eyes just shifted around the place. You weren’t even sure how the system worked. Were you supposed to walk over to them or did they just come to you? Did you have to get an appointment before arriving like it was a doctors office or-

“I recognize that dump.”

You turned to see who in their right mind had to say that about your ass. You hadn’t been hit on a lot in your life, but you knew how to differentiate between flattery and sexual harassment. The other men were quick to go back to their tasks, not wanting to watch your reaction.

“Excuse me?” You squeaked out with as much anger in your voice as possible (you were more like a yipping Pomeranian).

The pink haired man in front of you looked like the definition of bad news. Stark black tattoos against his pale skin, burn and cut scars all over his arms, and his pink hair was pulled back by a black bandana. With the way him and the other men looked, it seemed like all mechanics had to do a course in ‘Intimidation 101: how to look like a convict.’

“Talkin’ ‘bout your car, sweetheart. Some guy is always comin’ in here with that thing.”

Sweetheart. Passive aggressive prick

“Oh, I’m sorry. That guy’s my friend. This is actually my car and the AC is just not working properly. I think it’s broken.”

You watched as he walked over to your car and examined the interior. “Flaps are fine. I think we might have to open it up and take a good look inside. Might even have to replace the thing.”

He noticed your shifty gaze, probably worried about how much you were going to have to pay for the whole thing. Adorable.

“I know a guy who gives discounts for it. You a college student?” His unnaturally handsome face looks concerned for you. You weren’t expecting it but you welcomed it. With caution of course. You nodded meekly while looking at him. Maybe mechanics weren’t scammy towards women after all.

He clapped his hands and grinned, sharp canines visible in all their glory. The man looked like the human version of a tiger. “Then it’s basically free. Don’t worry about the cost. You can leave your car here. Want me to call an uber for ya?”

He noticed the not-so-discreet glances from his coworkers but kept his eyes trained on your wimpish face.

“I’m alright. Um, thank you. Do I have to leave my number or do you guys have that on file?”

“We do have a number but I’m guessing that belongs to your friend cause he’s always the one to come here and pick your car up after service.”

“You’re right. I think I might have to give mine.”

As stupid as it sounds, he wanted to do a cartwheel, it’s like everything was falling into place. Cute girl with car problems, no boyfriend (as far as he knows), and he gets her number.

He was going to get a celebratory beer after work.

His colleagues could see the pep in his step but didn’t bother to say anything knowing that you were still there- even if you looked like your mind wasn’t present.

He returned with a clipboard and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from scaring you with his beaming smile.

“I’m Sukuna by the way.” He smirked as he noticed the deep blush on your cheeks. You stammered out your name to him and he swore that he could almost envision it on an elegant white card a few years from now.

“See you soon,” he said before walking away with a new air of confidence around his gait.

After you left, his friend, Toji, abandoned the car he was working on to follow Sukuna to the office. “There’s no way in hell you know someone who can install a new AC for free. I paid hundreds to fix mine.” Sukuna didn’t even look at his friend while he was talking. He just kept staring at you through the window while you were getting into your cab.

“There’s nothing wrong with her AC. She just needed to clean the filters.”

__

New serie- who said that? 👁️👄👁️

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Jing Yuan significant other.

Imagine stirring awake in your sleep as you slowly register the heat of the morning sun entering the room. Brows frowning, you open your eyes gently, being mindful of the sun, only to be greeted by a hand shielding you away from the sun. "Good morning sleeping head." It was your lover in his deep, husky morning voice. Squinting and staring at him, you move only to get close and snuggle close to him earning a huff and a laugh. "Alright, let's sleep some more."

Imagine slapping him by his arm when he wouldn't stay still as you dress him. "Darling! Stay still!" At this point, you might end up poking him by his accessories. "But dearest, I don't want to go" He whine like a child causing you to slap his arms once again in disapproval, also earning a groan from your lover as well as a pout.

Imagine standing there behind him, hands crossed on your chest as you look down at the car snuggling into your legs. Smiling at the little guy, you turn your attention back on your lover as he water the plants. And suddenly, he was looking at you. "Hello dearest." He smiles gently at you in which you return. "Hello darling. How's your day going?"

Imagine visiting during your free time, taking your sweet time before dropping of into his office. Greetings the people as you went on, you finally arrived at his office. Knocking three times, you open the door only to find your lover silently dozing off. There he was living up to his title as the dozing general. Looking around, you silently made your way beside him before sitting down.

Imagine the way you reach out a hand to brush away his hair away from his face when he lean in into your touch. Upon doing so, you had the urge to pinch his cheeks if it was not for your self control. Sighing to yourself, you gently withdraw away from him and quickly scan the paper works left on his desk when the door opened and "gene!-ral?" The man halted upon setting his eyes upon you. Is it urgent? You signed to the man only for him to shake his head, waving the papers in hand. Come here. You signed.

Imagine Jing Yuan finding himself on a rather comfortable position, his head lay down on a rather comfortable and familiar lap causing him to get up if it was not for you caressing his cheek all the way up into his hair. "Good evening sleepy head. Did you have a nice nap?" "You should have awaken me, dearest." "I figure out that letting you take a nap would be a much better choice darling." You smile down at him.

Imagine being Jing Yuan may not be as adventurous and active as you two were once was. Those were, another stories of your youth that has now passed by and carved into ever lasting memories. What's important is that, the two of you were still here, still by each other side. Still in each other’s arm.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: I came here after the animation, bye.

[transvampireboyfriend]

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

"I'm just saying, if the heat bothers you so much, you could cut your hair" Nancy points out, after declining Eddie's pleas for her spare scrunchie.

Robin sits on Nancy's lap, clutching the back of Steve's seat and she looks at Steve through the side mirror like she's afraid that he's about to go on a mission to defend Eddie's honor or something but Steve rolls his eyes at her. He's not that gone.

Or at least he knows how to hide it well.

Eddie's lost several of Nancy's favorite hair accessories and two weeks ago she bowed to never lend him any ever again.

Which, does not stop Eddie from asking her anyway at least once a day.

But the point is, even if Steve wanted to, Eddie's honor cannot be defended in this situation.

Nancy's leaning behind Argyle's back now to glare at the metalhead. Steve can see them in the rearview mirror.

Eddie gasps "I would never" he says, clutching his chest dramatically.

Steve secretly breathes a sigh of relief.

Johnathan chuckles at the wheel. "But you could" he comments, eyes on the road.

Steve can see Argyle subtly laughing and shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

Today is a rare occasion, Jonathan is driving them in Steve's car.

The goal of Steve's rant earlier about having to drive them everywhere was to get Eddie to drive them, so Steve could sit shotgun and watch Eddie drive.

Instead, Jonathan had offered first and then Steve couldn't go in the backseat because he's in charge of their map.

But whatever, this is fine too. He trusts Jonathan and it is nice to get a break and to be able to fully turn around when he's talking to someone in the backseat.

"Jon, I would lose all my sex appeal, you don't get it" Eddie answers, getting a box of Twinkies from one of the many bags they packed and placed on the floor of Steve's car.

"I get it" Argyle chimes in, watching Eddie pull out a Twinkie and shaking his head no when Eddie offers him one.

"You'd still be sexy with short hair" Robin comments from her seat on Nancy's lap.

Everyone turns to look at her.

"What?" she shrugs "I can say that"

Nancy chuckles into her shoulder.

Steve opens their map again to stop thinking about Eddie's 'sex appeal', even as the guy is excitedly munching on a Twinkie in the backseat of Steve's car.

He's got cream in the corner of his mouth and he clearly put more in his mouth than he can comfortably chew. He's leaning one elbow on Argyle's shoulder, his hand holding half a Twinkie, his other hand holds his mop of hair up in a high bun, causing his cut off tank to sit barely covering his nipples, his tattoos on display and his armpit hair fully visible.

Steve's fairly certain nobody else in this car would get it, but to him the sight is mouth watering. The guy is practically irresistible.

"I don't think i would've gone on even half the dates I've gone on if i didn't have my hair" Steve muses, for something to say and to add to Eddie's point, even though he agrees with Robin.

Almost everyone answers with agreeable noises, except Eddie and Robin.

Robin snorts and says "You are relentless"

While Eddie says "You don't get dates for your hair" at the same time. In a tone that suggests he thinks this is an obvious thing.

"I mean- it doesn't hurt" provides Nancy, she sends Steve an apologetic look but Steve waves her off. It's a compliment as far as he's concerned, he loves his hair.

Eddie finishes his treat and opens a new one while everyone else gives their opinions.

"For a lot of people, hair is a big part of attraction" Jonathan is saying, trying to seem like he's not speaking from experience.

"Especially hair as luscious as Steve's" Argyle agrees, leaning forward to lightly comb the side of Steve's hair, making him laugh.

"Thanks, man" Steve says overlapping Eddie's response.

"And I agree!" he exclaims "I'm saying he doesn't get dates because of his hair." Eddie goes on, waving his new Twinkie around for emphasis. "People throw themselves at Steve, and always will, but it's not because of his hair" he repeats.

Steve feels his cheeks heat up but still asks "Then why?"

"Well, because you're very pretty!" Eddie answers easily, like everyone should already know this.

Steve keeps his eyes carefully trained on the map, like he needs to study it meticulously, right this moment, while they're in the middle of a highway.

His cheeks are burning up and he can feel it spreading to his ears.

"And that's if they don't know you!" Eddie continues "If they do know you they know you're kind and brave and strong ...and generous and funny. Who wouldn't want all that in a date?" Eddie finshes.

Oh I don't know, you? Maybe? Do you? Steve thinks.

"Even bald, people would still go crazy for you" Eddie adds, his words slightly muffled towards the end as he shoves almost all of the new Twinkie in his mouth but apparently thinks better of it, biting all but a small piece.

"Here. You want the rest of this?" Eddie offers Steve, talking through his mouthful, and presenting the small piece with his ringed fingers, right in front of Steve's face.

Without thinking, Steve leans forward and takes it with his mouth, his lips burning where they touched Eddie's fingers.

As Eddie retrieves his hand Steve realizes what he just did and how quiet the car got.

He sends Robin a panicked look through the side mirror as Jonathan awkwardly clears his throat.

"Argyle's got nice hair" Robin tries.

The car immediately fills up with enthusiastic agreement and Steve slowly breathes out.

He can't bring himself to look at Eddie as he chews on his bite. He practically licked Eddie's fingers. Unprompted! The guy probably meant for Steve to grab the treat and then eat it. If he even accepted it at all!

Steve feels like an idiot and he frowns at the map again, willing himself to ignore the goosebumps in his arms and the tickling on his lips.

He doesn't see Eddie worriedly staring at him for the remaining of their conversation, until Nancy takes pity on him and offers up her spare scrunchie to distract him.

part 2

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader where she visit him at the paddock with their children? (He's at Aston Martin) Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!!

Well if it isn't the best Alonso! Fernando Alonso x GreekWife! Reader + Kids

Plot: You come to the paddock for a day, as everyone’s fav Alonso Family Member!

“Well If it isn’t the best Alonso” Lance says as you walk into the paddock. You smile at the younger Canadian and pull him into a hug.

“Oh wait, no no no these are the better Alonso’s he grins as he sees your three angels trailing behind you. You had Fernando Jr, who was currently 10. He had of course taken after his father and your husband had taken him karting on his 4th birthday.

Of course they both came back ecstatic, your husband claiming that your son was a prodigy and took all the talent for racing from him. You were happy as he’d explained to you when you first got pregnant that he would be so happy if your kids turned out to like racing and cars as much as he did.

Then there was your daughter, who was currently looking around the garage trying to find the one person she really wanted to see, her name was Iris, taking from your Greek heritage. She was a bundle of joy especially when she came to the paddock. Even at 7 years old she spoke maturely to all the drivers she interacted with, asking them questions about the cars and their lives.

Iris, despite her name was a total Daddy’s girl and would cry when her dad left for races you couldn’t bring them too, and would be elated when he came home. She was glued to his side all the time when he was there with her, which often made her older brother jealous but also got her into karting.

Fernando couldn’t believe his luck when Iris had practically begged him to take her carting with Fernando Jr. He loved watching them race against each other when her brother wasn’t racing in a competition.

Where Iris drove against her older brother she caught up very quickly being a lot better than the kids her age. She wasn’t only a good driver but she was a quick thinker too, something her brother was still learning. They had some heated, yet childish arguments but it wasn’t anything ice cream couldn’t fix.

3 years after you had Iris, you had another child, another girl who Fernando wanted to call Isabella. Bella was now 4 and was shyer than her older siblings and was a total mummy’s girl. She liked princesses and dolls and liked dressing up with her mum watching.

You loved your first two children obviously, but you would never want to take away from the bond they had with their dad. Of course you had your own special bond with them, and they adored you but they clearly had an affiliation with their father because of their love for karting.

So when Isabella started to show signs of loving your hobby or fashion and shopping you were more than excited. You used her a model for your fashion boutique/line that you owned, you were actually a pretty big name in the fashion industry.

You were know as the up and coming Donnatella.

Isabella loved playing with you, and she enjoyed watching her dad… normally form afar. She didn’t like the loud noises that came from the cars when they went 200mph round the tracks.

Fernando was happy you finally had a mini you that you could dress up in all your outfits and style her hair with cute bows unlike Iris who liked her hair accessory free unless it was a hair tie.

You were currently pregnant with yours and your husbands final children which of course happened to be twins.

As you were both getting older, there were more risks with pregnancy and birthing for you. So you agreed that the two little lives growing inside your right now would be your last.

Everyone loved when Fernandos family came to the paddock. You all would what’s bring the best energy with you. Everyone in Aston Martin waited for you to grace them with your baked good that would put the catering staff in all the paddocks hospitality units to shame.

“Hello Lance, how are you!” You exclaim, as you release him from the hug, Bella tugs at the end of your dress looking up at you. You grin and lift the young girl up. You were about 3 months pregnant right now, so still holding your daughter was no issues

“Mum, can we go look for dad please. We want to see his car” Fernando Jr asks, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. You look away, trying to find someone trust worthy amount the busy mechanics. You spot one of your favourites calling out to him.

“Sorry to be a pain, I know your busy but would you mind taking these too to the garage to find Nando?” You ask and he nods immediately and both your children thank you with big grins before following the mechanic talking his ear off while they do.

“Sorry Lance, that was so rude of me. How are you?” You ask feeling your daughter rest her head on your shoulder, already tired with all the walking and people.

“No it’s no problem. And I’m good, how are you. Fernando told me you were glowing and he was so right” he grins looking at you and then your small little bump that was showing of from the dress you were wearing.

“Stopppppp thank you Lance, me and Fernando actually had a question for you” you grin.

“Go on, I’m scared now!” He says, eyes widening slightly.

“Well, we want you to be the god father to the twins!” You grin smiling. He stands there in shock, not to sure what to say. This was such a big thing.

“Obviously you can say no, but we thought it was fitting where Felipe is Fernando Jr’s god father because he was born in 2013 when he was racing for Ferrari, and then Jenson is Iris God Father as she was born in 2016. And then Bella was born when he had a break because I was struggling a little so my friends were prioritised for Bella. But now that he’s back racing and he has a teammate like you we were wondering if you’d, you know take us up on the offer”

“Oh my god. Of course I will I can’t believe you guys thought of me” Lance says pulling you into another hug.

“You were the first person he suggested” you say, your accent coming out a little more as your voice cracks, you could curse those pregnancy emotions right now.

“Im going to take a walk to the garage. See if Iris has already escaped to go see Jenson and crash one of his interviews again. I swear he doesn’t care that, that kid threatens his job sometimes” you chuckle remember the time she threw a tantrum when Fernando tried to take her away from an interview he was doing with Carlos Sainz and so they let her sit on his lap for the whole interview.

“Okay, ooo wait. Can I have a brownie please?” He asks rubbing his hands together hoping you have your delicious chocolate creations.

“Oh I almost forgot!” You smile handing him two that he happily took, before wondering to go and find Sebastian Vettel to tell him the amazing news.

You walk through the Aston Martin hospitality handing out your treats to anyone who comes up to you with a pleading look on their face before they taste test and pure foodgasms come every time. Bella had slightly perked up and was now more interested that people were talking to her and complimenting her outfit.

You eventually find Fernando and your two other children are already with him. Iris is sat in the car while one for the mechanics is helping your son hold the heavy wheel gun up to the wheel while admin takes lots of pictures.

“Hello hello” you breeze into the room. Your husband comes over to you lifting you up and twirling you going before pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“I missed you” he mumbles looking over you, a hand rubbing over your stomach almost as if to make sure everything is okay with you and the babies.

“I missed you to mi amor” you say in your husbands language.

“I love you αστέρι μου (my star)” he says in Greek. It was a little thing you guys did, to show appreciation for the other.

“Oh and I missed you too, my little Princess” your husband grins looking at your daughter who was jumping at the ball of her feet to get some attention from her father. He lifts her up and spins her around making a melody of giggles sound through the garage.

“Im glad you all came, mi familia” Fernando sighs opening his arms for all the rest of you to join as he pulls you into the hug from his left arm.

“Anything for you” you say, kissing his cheek. He turns to look at you, placing a soft kiss in your lips.

“So is daddy going to win today? Max has been tough this season!” Your daughter admits, crossing her arms, she was obsessed with watching her dads glory days, and coming in to see a Lewis and Max domination was hard. No matter she always cheered on and supported her dad.

“Im going to try my very hardest” Fernando smiles kissing her forehead and all of your heads snap up as your heart the click of a camera.

“Sorry, but you all look so cute” the social media guy said with an awkward blush.

“Oh please please send that to me. I just know your grandmother with love this. She’s been missing you guys, we haven’t seen her since we went her in Greece in the summer break” you say looking down at the kids.

“Can we go back to both Spain and Greece in the summer holiday! Englands getting boring” Fernando Jr jokes, he was the only one born in Spain, after you guys had Iris in Greece and then you moved to the UK so your husband could be closer to the Aston Martin HQ.

“Yes baby, we’ll time it around dads break and your school break. You guys are lucky it’s half term” you nod a them. As serious as they were about karting you also wanted them to have a decent level of education behind them.

“Yes!” The oldest too cheer, before they spot different people they want to go see that send them running off out the garage.

“I could get used to this” Fernando smiles looking down at his daughter in his arms, and placing his other arm to wrap around your waist.

“You know I won’t be able to travel soon, and it’s gonna put a stain on us” you sniffle those silly emotions coming back.

“I know. But I’ve already got a plan, I’ll be coming home more when I can, and I’ll be free when you give birth if not they are happy for me to have a reserve for that weekend” he reassured you.

“What did I ever do to deserve you” you smile, as he wipes away the tears that had started to come down you face. And kisses your cheeks, before laying his head into the crook of your neck.

“I love you”

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

[kingofbodyrolls]

Last Night in Magic Shop | pjm

You find yourself down at the local club, Magic Shop, because your best friend feels like your lovelife is dry as ice. You did not plan on meeting a handsome stranger, who moves his body like an angel, but speaks like the devil. Feeling like he might match your nasty needs, you take him home, enjoying an unforgettable night filled with pleasure.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Genre + AUs: strangers to lovers, one night stand, vampire!au, smut (pwp), and a little sprinkle of angst and fluff (it’s very short and minor) → Word Count: 12.5k → Rating: mature / +18 → Warnings: explicit smut, exhibitionism + semi public sex (they are in a car and kinda get caught and they stop), kissing, grinding, thighs (yes it’s a warning), a harness (as fashion, yes, also a warning), choking, dirty talk, power play (it’s very dynamic but they are both trying to be more dominant, lol), dom/sub undertones, pleasing kink, oral (female and male receiving), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, biting, mentions of blood (it’s brief at the end), rough sex, but also very intimate, breast and nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, spitting— in general this one is very dirty, flirty and rough!  → Author’s note: hi!!!! This is my gift to all you lovely people that follow me, and also to everyone else too! 💜 I really want to thank you, for following me, for reading my stories, for following my recs and library and helping me to show love to all the other authors on this platform that way 🫶 Thank you, truly. This is my gift to you— for my 1k follower milestone 🥳 It actually happened some time ago, I was still writing my long series at the time, so I didn’t really have time to celebrate it, but I really wanted to, so here I am bearing a gift! It’s another filthy one, and I have so much fun writing these, because this isn’t what I normally write (I’m more the fluffy and smutty, a lot of detail and words type of gal). I appreciate you all so much, and to those few people who really interact with me by commenting, messaging me, and just being there— thank you, you are incredible and I love you so much 🥹 Thank you, I hope you enjoy this one 💜  → Author’s note(2): this is pure utter filth yet again. I didn’t proofread this (I might do it later and find my stupid mistakes), but right now, I’m not in the mood. I hope it isn’t horrible, I’m feeling like that myself, but I really tried to make it extra filthy (more so than what I usually write). I do still hope that you enjoy and like it 🌸

Do you prefer to read on AO3? Well, it's posted there too!

Despite your usual aversion to clubbing—the cacophony of deafening music, the stifling heat enveloping you, your skimpy outfit clinging to your skin like a second layer—somehow, you find yourself succumbing to the relentless persuasion of your best friend, Hana, who insists on dragging you down to the pulsating heart of the local club scene, Magic Shop. Why you’re willingly diving into this chaotic abyss, well, that’s a fucking mystery even to you.

As Hana navigates the bustling bar to order drinks, you scan the crowded expanse for a spot to settle, but every booth seems occupied in this sea of bodies pulsating to the throb of the music. Amidst the frenzy, your gaze drifts inevitably to the dance floor, where a blonde haired man commands attention with his effortless grace, his movements a symphony of fluidity and raw sensuality. Mesmerized, you can’t tear your eyes away, tracing the contours of his physique, the chiseled jawline, the tantalizing glimpse of collarbones beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The way that he moves his hips, undulating and assaulting the air like he’s making love to it, sends dangerous spikes of arousal through your body. And then, your breath catches as you notice the daring accessory adorning his torso—a leather harness, snugly embracing his waist wrapped around him twice and being collected at his shoulders, with a tantalizing hint of danger, leaving you spellbound and inexplicably captivated.

No. That couldn’t possibly be your saliva glistening on the floor, could it?

“Have you found a place to sit?” Hana’s voice interrupts your trance, but as you remain transfixed, she tracks your gaze to the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor, drawing an eclectic crowd like moths to a flame. With a knowing chuckle, she realizes the source of your fixation.

“Ah... Jimin has caught your eye,” she chuckles, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips as she wets them with the tip of her tongue. With a playful wink, she acknowledges your attraction before swiftly scanning the room for the elusive empty booth you had overlooked.

She drags you along with your drinks to an unoccupied booth, the crimson leather beckoning like a siren’s call. You both sink into the plush seats, but your attention remains tethered to Jimin, captivated by his every fluid motion.

You’re spellbound, utterly captivated by the mesmerizing display unfolding before you. How does someone possess such mastery over their own body? With each twist and turn, Jimin exudes a level of control that borders on otherworldly, his slender frame clad in skin-tight leather pants that leave little to the imagination. His thighs, robust and powerful, evoke a primal longing within you, God, what you’d do to be crushed by those.

The sound of something snapping jolts you from your trance, and you instinctively tear your gaze away from Jimin, heat flooding your cheeks and ears as you turn towards your best friend. Your heart pounds, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration, as her fingers snap, commanding your attention back to her, a silent reminder of the real world beyond your intoxicating reverie.

“You’ve got it bad for him,” she smirks, teasing and taunting in equal measure as she swirls her straw through her drink, a wicked gleam dancing in her eyes before her lips playfully encircles the straw, a silent challenge hanging in the air.

“No, I don't,” you declare, the lie hanging heavy in the air, though you’re well aware she sees right through you. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, betraying your denial, while your gaze remains ensnared by the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor. With each pulse of the music, your heart threatens to break free from your chest, pounding an erratic rhythm of desire and apprehension.

“You and every other soul in Magic Shop,” she bursts out laughing, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she brings her drink to her lips once more, the ice clinking against the glass in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the music.

Your brows knit together in a mix of frustration and discomfort. She’s keenly aware of how long it’s been since you’ve let loose, both on the dance floor and in the bedroom. She knows the ache of longing that's settled deep within you, a silent companion during those lonely nights. And perhaps that’s why she’s orchestrated this night out, dragging you to this chaotic den of temptation, her intentions as transparent as glass: she wants you to indulge, to find release in the arms of another.

Yet, despite Hana’s persistent nudges towards potential romantic connections, you harbor little optimism for any amorous encounters tonight beyond enjoying the company of your friend. It’s not that you hold rigid standards, per se, but after navigating through numerous relationships and even dalliances with one-night stands, you’ve come to a firm conclusion: you don’t crave love, nor do you feel a pressing need for a man in your life. However, Hana sees it differently; she views your reluctance to dive back into the dating pool as a lamentable missed opportunity for some good dick, hence her relentless efforts to nudge you towards potential romantic escapades.

None of your past relationships have managed to captivate you for long; they’ve all fallen short of taming your restless spirit or fulfilling your insatiable hunger. None have been able to meet you on equal footing, to sate the voracious appetite that burns within you.

But as you watch Jimin, something shifts within you, challenging your steadfast stance on one-night stands. Holy fuck, the man’s dancing is nothing short of mesmerizing, and if you claimed you weren’t already feeling a surge of arousal just from laying eyes on him, well, that would be a blatant lie.

He might just possess the rare ability to match your intensity, your insatiable hunger for connection. He exudes an aura of irresistibility that both entices and intimidates you, knowing full well he could be too much to handle. But you revel in the thrill of the chase too much to resist the temptation of a potentially unforgettable encounter.

You find yourself unable to shake the thought: does the way he moves on the dance floor hint at his prowess between the sheets? Those hips, snapping and thrusting with such abandon, leave little to the imagination, igniting fantasies of what they could do in a more intimate setting. If only it weren’t just the air he was thrusting into…

Fuck.

A shiver of apprehension snakes down your spine as you witness the crowd parting, creating a path directly towards you. Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as you realize the magnetic force drawing him closer is aimed squarely in your direction.

His gaze, as dark as the depths of the club’s chaos, pierces through the tumult, locking onto you with a laser-like intensity. In those obsidian orbs, a potent mixture of desire, confidence, and a hint of something dangerous dances. A quick flick of his tongue over his lips sends a jolt of electricity through the air, so fleeting you almost doubt you saw it, yet you can’t shake the image of something glinting, sharp, nestled between his teeth.

Your pulse races even faster, a frantic rhythm matching the pounding bass of the music, as Hana’s kick under the table barely registers amidst the magnetic pull of Jimin’s gaze. With each step he takes toward you, the air grows thinner, suffused with the heady anticipation of his proximity. Your lungs strain for oxygen, chest heaving with each shallow breath, as he finally stands before you, a commanding presence that leaves you breathless and utterly captivated.

“Hi,” his voice is a seductive melody, dripping with a sweetness that lingers in the air like honey. His complexion, paler than the moonlight, seems to shimmer under the dim lights of the club, casting an ethereal glow that draws you in even closer.

“I haven’t seen you in The Magic Shop before. Care to dance?” His invitation is laced with an enticing charm, emphasized by the subtle swipe of his tongue over his lips, leaving them glistening with a tempting sheen. Those lips, plush and inviting, evoke a sinful allure, almost reminiscent of a Bratz doll, but with a touch of dangerous sophistication. And his eyes, simultaneously gentle yet piercing, hold a captivating depth that beckons you further into his intoxicating world.

For a fleeting moment, you’re rendered speechless, caught off guard by his proposition, until Hana’s insistent nudge against your shin reignites your senses. With a jolt, your mind snaps back into focus, racing to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling within you.

You can’t help but smile, warmth flooding your cheeks as a rosy hue paints your features. “Sure,” you reply, the word escaping in a breathless whisper, your heart pounding in anticipation of what the night may hold.

With a quick glance and an apologetic smile, you abandon both Hana and the untouched drink sitting before you, the promise of the dance floor eclipsing any lingering sense of guilt. She waves you off with a knowing smirk and a playful wink, seamlessly returning her attention to her own drink, her silent encouragement echoing in your mind as you navigate towards Jimin.

With a firm yet gentle grip, Jimin guides you back to the heart of the pulsating dance floor, his touch igniting a wave of electric anticipation. Envious gazes track your every move as he positions you in the center, his fingers finding their place on your hips with a confident precision. With each sway to the rhythm, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you and the music.

You’re enveloped in a trance-like state, surrendering to the rhythm dictated by his touch. While you may not consider yourself a skilled dancer, you grasp onto the simplicity of a few basic moves, but in this moment, you relinquish control, allowing the music to guide your every sway and dip, melding your body to its seductive melody.

Amidst the snickers and the encroaching dancers, Jimin remains unfazed, his attention steadfastly fixed on you and you alone. The world may swirl with whispers and glances, but in his eyes, there’s only the two of you, locked in a mesmerizing dance of desire and lust.

Drawing nearer, Jimin’s presence becomes almost suffocating, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in. His voice, dripping with a seductive allure that sends shivers down your spine, wraps around you like a venomous embrace. “What’s your name?” He murmurs, each word laced with a potent mixture of desire and danger, leaving you utterly captivated.

“Y/N,” you pant, the syllables escaping your lips in a breathless whisper, as if each letter were a confession of the wildfire burning within you. Your heart races like a runaway train, its thunderous beats drowning out the cacophony of the club around you. A flush of heat spreads through your body, igniting a primal fire that blazes from within, leaving you certain that every inch of you must be dripping with arousal, pooling at your feet like molten desire.

“I’m Jimin,” he introduces himself, the words carrying a weight of promise as his fingers tighten around your hips, almost leaving an imprint on your skin. You nod in silent acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between you, as if the intensity of his touch speaks volumes more than mere words ever could.

Suddenly, he spins you around, pulling you flush against him, his dick pressing intimately against your ass as he grinds against you with an electrifying urgency. Resting his head on your shoulder, he envelops you in his intoxicating presence, the rhythm of the music pulsating through both of you. “You know,” he whispers huskily into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “I can smell you from here. And damn, you smell so damn good.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he playfully nips at your earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. With a daring touch, his hand edges dangerously close to your core, his fingers trailing along the hem of your dress, hiking it up just enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

The pressure of his body against yours, the rhythmic grind of his hips, brings an undeniable awareness of the growing bulge pressing into you with every movement. Each subtle thrust sends a surge of heat coursing through you, igniting an even fiercer desire that has you practically dripping with anticipation.

Releasing your hips with a tantalizing touch, he withdraws slightly, allowing you a moment to dance before him, a silent invitation to showcase your allure. His gaze, smoldering with appreciation, traces the curves of your body as he maneuvers around you, closing the distance once more. As he resumes his sensual grind against you, you're entranced by the fluidity of his movements, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the magnetic pull of his presence.

“Are you some kind of professional dancer?” You manage to question, though the words emerge as a breathless whisper, your lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to contain the moan that hovers on the edge of your lips, provoked by the tantalizing roll of his hips against your own.

Awareness of the surrounding stares registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but in this pulsating sea of bodies, everyone’s lost in their own rhythm. The only thing that matters is the intoxicating sensation of Jimin’s body pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

He leans in once more, his voice a seductive melody laced with a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m a dancer.” Each word drips with an intoxicating allure, drawing you deeper into the irresistible allure of his world.

You gulp audibly, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, where his heart beats with a rhythm so languid, it could almost convince you it’s ceased to beat altogether. Yet, beneath the surface, it pulses steadily, a silent testament to the calm amidst the storm of his fervent movements upon the dance floor.

You lock eyes with him, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So,” you tease, your voice barely a whisper, “are you as flexible in bed as you are on the dance floor?”

He licks his lips once more, a subtle gesture that sends a jolt of anticipation coursing through you. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of something primal, something dangerously alluring flickering in the depths of his eyes. But before you can grasp it fully, it vanishes like a wisp of smoke, leaving you both captivated and curious.

His laughter spills forth, rich and raspy, a symphony that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze. His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens, transforming his face into a captivating portrait of mischief and allure. Leaning in close, his breath dances tantalizingly against your ear, each word a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “Take me to your place,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive promise, “and you’ll find out.”

Your mind reels as a torrent of thoughts flood your senses.

Fuck. Is he for real?

Is this happening? Is he serious? 

Pausing for a heartbeat, you draw back slightly, your gaze sweeping over him as you search for any hint of deceit or jest. The intensity of the moment demands clarity, and you refuse to be swept away without knowing if his words hold genuine intent or mere flirtatious banter.

“You heard correctly, darling. If you take me home, can I taste you?” His question hangs in the air, his eyes betraying an innocence that sharply contrasts with the sinful allure of his voice, each word dripping with a seductive promise that sets your pulse racing.

You swallow, hard, a surge of desire mingling with a tinge of apprehension as his words ignite a primal response within you. Your body betrays you, slick with anticipation, a physical manifestation of your yearning for the dangerous allure he exudes. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself drawn to the danger like a moth to a flame, craving the exhilarating thrill of the unknown that he represents.

“Yes,” you moan, unable to resist the primal urge coursing through you, as you press your hips into his, igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the air, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him.

With every passing moment, it feels like the world around you is spinning out of control, but amidst the chaos, one thing remains crystal clear: the overwhelming desire pulsating between you and him. Driven by an insatiable hunger, you seize his hand and lead him back to the booth where you and Hana were previously seated, your heart pounding with the anticipation of what’s to come.

As you approach the booth, the scene unfolds before you—Hana seated on a stranger’s lap, their lips locked in a passionate embrace. With a mixture of amusement and urgency, you gently tap her shoulder, disrupting the fervent kiss as you insert yourself back into the moment.

Hana’s face lights up as she turns to greet you, her smile infectious and her laughter filling the air with vibrant energy. “Leaving already?” She exclaims, her voice buoyant with excitement. “Enjoy yourselves!” With a carefree wave and a raucous cheer, she dives back into her passionate exchange, leaving you to embark on your own adventure.

With a sense of trust and understanding between you and Hana, you leave the club, confident that she can handle herself. However, you both value communication and keeping each other informed of your whereabouts. As you step outside, you swiftly retrieve your phone, shooting her a quick text to let her know that you and Jimin are heading to your place.

His fingers, cool against your skin in contrast to the warmth of the night air, envelop you in a sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. Yet, in this moment, the chill is a welcome contrast to the heat of the anticipation swirling around you.

“I’ve ordered an Uber,” he announces with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with desire, a hunger that mirrors your own. Your response is a throaty moan, an instinctive acknowledgment of the electrifying tension between you.

He draws nearer, his presence overwhelming as he pulls you into the circle of his arms. His lips tease over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation in their wake, before tracing a path to your ear. With a husky whisper that sends shivers cascading down your spine, he confesses, “I really can’t wait to taste you.”

You whimper softly, a mixture of desire and frustration escaping with each breath. The intensity of his desire ignites a fierce longing within you, matching your own fervor for him. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every passing second stretching into an eternity as you yearn for the arrival of the Uber to whisk you away to your place where you can finally satiate the burning desire between you.

As the car pulls up, Jimin graciously holds the door open, a silent invitation into the sanctuary of the backseat. You slide in first, feeling the heat of his presence close behind as he joins you, the space between you shrinking until you’re sitting intimately close, every breath shared in the electric anticipation of what's to come.

You relay your address to the Uber driver, the words tumbling from your lips with a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of your heart. With each passing moment, you draw closer to the sanctuary of your home, to the promise of Jimin’s touch enveloping you, surrounding you, until you’re consumed by the fiery desire that burns between you.

Jimin’s lips glisten with a subtle sheen as he licks them, a tantalizing gesture that sets your senses ablaze. His touch, cool against the warmth of your skin, sends a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine as his fingers find purchase on your thigh. With your dress hitched up slightly, you can’t help but tense at the sensation, every nerve alive with the electric current of his touch.

You bite down on your lip, a surge of anticipation coursing through you as his fingers inch closer and closer to your core. Your body responds with an undeniable urgency, your arousal evident in the way your pussy clenches and glistens with desire. Every fiber of your being screams with need, your craving for him reaching a fever pitch. With his fingers poised just shy of their destination, his gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

“Can I?” He murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite down on your lip with a fervor that borders on desperation, the taste of copper flooding your senses as you draw blood. With a sharp inhale, you part your thighs, offering him unrestricted access to the throbbing ache between them, your drenched cunt aching to be touched, to be claimed by him.

His fingers remain still, a maddening contrast to the raging desire coursing through you, and frustration begins to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. In a desperate attempt to incite movement, you roll your hips, a silent plea for his touch to ignite the fire within you. Instead, his response is unexpected, his grip on your thigh tightening with a roughness that sends a jolt of electricity racing through you.

“Use your words, pretty.”

His gaze is penetrating, holding you in a vice grip of intensity that leaves you breathless and trembling. As you feel yourself drowning in the depth of his eyes, a desperate plea escapes your lips in a whispered whimper, “Please.”

You part your legs wider, a silent invitation for him to delve deeper into the intoxicating depths of your desire. In response, he surges forward, capturing your lips with his own in a searing kiss that ignites a fiery passion between you. His lips, impossibly soft and pillowy, leave you yearning for more even as they reluctantly part from yours. As his hand finally descends to your bare pussy, stroking your exposed clit with deliberate intent, his words hang in the air like a taunt, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief that leaves you trembling with anticipation.

You chuckle, a bold and bratty streak emerging within you as you revel in the delicious tension between you. “I’m not,” you reply, your voice laced with a playful defiance that only serves to fuel the fire between you.

He returns to kissing you with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, the heat of his lips melding with yours in a passionate dance of desire. Each kiss is a tantalizing blend of heat and moisture, igniting a primal hunger within you. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their exploration of your core, teasing you with light strokes that send waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, a strangled moan escapes your lips, echoing the depth of your pleasure. As your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the stern gaze of the Uber driver reflected in the rearview mirror. Without a word spoken, his disapproving stare speaks volumes, conveying his unspoken demand with chilling clarity, leaving you both startled and exhilarated by the illicit thrill of being caught in the act.

You reluctantly pull away from Jimin’s embrace, your breath ragged and labored, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you address both him and the Uber driver. “Sorry,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of apology and urgency lacing your words. With a silent gesture to Jimin, you convey the unspoken agreement to restrain yourselves until you reach the privacy of your own home, the anticipation of what's to come only adding to the charged atmosphere between you.

Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder, seeking solace in his warmth, your hand finding its place on his thigh, tantalizingly close to the growing bulge in his pants.

The car ride feels like an eternity, every passing moment tinged with the tension of anticipation and the weight of the Uber driver’s disapproving gaze in the rearview mirror. As the vehicle finally comes to a halt in front of your apartment building, you’re met once again with the stern glare of the driver, a silent reminder of the boundaries you’ve overstepped. With a contrite nod, you silently acknowledge his unspoken reprimand, eager to escape the confines of the car and indulge in the privacy of your own space.

Jimin shadows your every move as you lead the way to the elevator, his presence a palpable force at your back. With a silent determination, you press the buttons, the soft chime signaling the arrival of the elevator. Stepping inside, the silence between you hangs heavy, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. As you press the button for the 7th floor, the doors begin to slide shut, sealing you in. Before you can react, Jimin’s hands are on you, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall with a force that steals your breath away.

His lips capture yours in a searing kiss, igniting a blaze of desire that consumes you both. As his tongue seeks entrance, you part your lips willingly, inviting him into a sensual dance of intertwining desires. Together, your tongues swirl and dance in a passionate embrace, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through every fiber of your being.

A low, guttural moan escapes your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as waves of heat and need cascade through your body. Every touch, every sensation leaves you burning with desire, your body aching for more of him, yearning to be consumed by the fire of his touch.

His roughness only fuels the fire burning within you, each forceful movement igniting a primal hunger that drives you wild with desire. The sensation of being pressed against the elevator wall sends shivers of excitement coursing through your body, intensifying the urgent need building between you. Unable to resist the intoxicating pull, you grind your core against his, the friction sending sparks flying and eliciting a guttural groan of pleasure from him, further fueling the fiery passion enveloping you both.

With a sudden ding, the elevator doors slide open, signaling your arrival at your floor with a jolt of anticipation.

A thin strand of saliva lingers, a tangible link between you and Jimin as you reluctantly part from his plush lips. The intensity of your kiss leaves you both breathless, panting heavily as if you’ve exerted yourselves far more than you actually have.

With a sense of urgency, you dart out of the elevator, tugging him along in your wake, each step quickened by the feverish anticipation coursing through your veins. As you approach your door, your movements become frantic, fingers fumbling in your purse in search of the keys, while his hands boldly explore the curves of your ass, fingers gripping with a hunger that mirrors your own.

A shiver of raw desire courses through you, electrifying every nerve as the keys slip from your trembling fingers. With a shaky breath, you bend down to retrieve them, the movement pressing your ass tantalizingly against his hardened dick, sending a jolt of anticipation surging through both of you.

A deep, primal growl escapes him, a guttural symphony of desire as you press your body against his, grinding against his throbbing cock with a fervor that leaves you both breathless. Finally seizing the keys, you straighten up, the charged silence between you, signaling the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable night.

Before slipping the keys into the lock, you cast a teasing glance over your shoulder, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you drink in the sight of him. His eyes are dark pools of desire, wide and unblinking, reflecting a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. In that moment, you recognize the potent combination of lust and danger lurking within him, a heady concoction that only serves to heighten the intensity of your desire.

As you turn the key in the lock, the door swings open, but before you can even react, Jimin’s strength propels you forward, pressing you firmly against it. With a forceful urgency, he shoves you against the wall inside, your back meeting it with a thud, his movements swift as he swiftly closes and locks the door behind him. Keys tumble from your grasp once more, but in the heat of the moment, their clatter goes unnoticed. His lips find yours again in a searing kiss, a low growl rumbling from deep within him as he hungrily seeks to devour you, his desire palpable and insatiable.

“I want you so bad, please tell me I can have you,” he pants between feverish kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he pleads for permission, his desire echoing in every word. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his passion, you respond with a soft moan, your head nodding in silent affirmation, giving yourself over completely to the irresistible pull of his longing.

In a sudden rush of boldness, you recall his desire for vocal affirmation, and with a newfound confidence, you meet his gaze head-on. “I want you too,” you declare, your voice laced with a breathless urgency. “I want to suck your dick,” you continue, your words dripping with a raw desire that sets your pulse racing.

A deep, primal groan escapes him, reverberating through your shared kiss, as he breaks away just long enough to deliver his fervent response. “No,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to taste you,” he declares, his words a promise of untold pleasures yet to come.

With a commanding presence, he presses his body against yours, pinning you firmly to the wall as his lips hover tantalizingly close to your neck, poised over your throbbing pulse point. In a surge of passion, he dives in, his kisses and licks igniting a fervent blaze of desire that leaves you gasping for air, each grunt and growl a primal symphony of pleasure echoing through the heated embrace.

His hands roam hungrily over your hips, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive urgency that sends shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, your own hands, rendered momentarily powerless by the overwhelming intensity of his touch, hang limply at your sides, unable to resist his commanding hold.

One of his thighs effortlessly slots between yours, pressing intimately against your core and sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. The friction ignites a primal response, coaxing a wanton moan to escape your lips, its echoes reverberating through the otherwise quiet hallway of your apartment.

As your brain snaps back to attention, your hands instinctively find their way to his hips, tracing the lines of his body with a newfound sense of purpose. With a boldness born of desire, you seek out his hardened dick, stroking him through the fabric of his pants with a firm yet teasing touch. His response is immediate and intense, a guttural moan escaping his lips and mingling with the heat of your kiss.

Your touch elicits a symphony of sweet, needy noises from him, each sound fueling the fire of your desire until you notice a subtle shift in his gaze. In that moment, something snaps within him, a primal instinct unleashed as his eyes darken with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze.

With a sudden, electrifying intensity, one of his hands ascends to your neck, his fingers curling possessively around it as he begins to exert pressure, cutting off your air supply. 

The sensation of oxygen deprivation sends a rush of lightheaded euphoria coursing through you, mingling with the overwhelming arousal that pulses relentlessly through your veins. In that moment, every nerve in your body ignites with a primal hunger, the boundary between pleasure and pain blurring into a tantalizing blur of ecstasy.

With an irresistible force, he withdraws slightly, his fingers maintaining their tight grip around your neck, a gesture of rough dominance that sets your senses ablaze with anticipation. Despite the intensity of his touch, there’s a calculated restraint in his actions, a deliberate balance between aggression and control that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. As you meet his gaze, you’re ensnared by the dark depths of his eyes, which shimmer with a potent combination of desire, danger, and an unspoken promise of untold pleasures yet to come. The sensation has your stomach knotting with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Behave,” he hisses, his words a menacing command that sends a shiver down your spine as you struggle for precious air, denied by his unyielding grip. With a wicked smirk, he releases his hold on your throat, and you stagger, your body nearly buckling beneath the weight of the intensity that courses through you, threatening to send you crumbling to the floor in a dizzying haze of desire and submission.

Gasping for air, your chest heaves with the effort as you cough, the sensation of your lungs burning only fueling your resolve. With determination shining bright in your eyes, you meet his gaze head-on. “No,” you assert, your voice trembling with defiance yet laced with an undeniable sense of strength and conviction.

With a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, you lick them in anticipation before lowering yourself gracefully to the floor, your gaze locked on his with an unspoken challenge. Swift and determined, your fingers deftly find the button of his sleek black leather pants, skillfully undoing them before defying gravity and pulling them down along with his boxers, exposing him fully to your hungry gaze. 

As his cock springs free, a resounding thud fills the room as it hits his stomach, the sound echoing off the walls with a palpable intensity. Thick and girthy, it stands proudly before you. While he may not boast the longest length you’ve encountered, you recognize that true pleasure lies not in size alone, but in the mastery of technique and the depth of connection shared between two bodies.

Anticipation courses through you like a current as you contemplate the possibilities of his prowess, a hunger igniting within you at the thought of experiencing his mastery firsthand. His cock, a work of art in its own right, boasts a rosy head glistening with a single droplet of precum, a tantalizing preview of the delights to come. With a confident grip, you encircle it with your hand, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from his lips as you begin to explore the contours of his dick.

With innocent doe eyes, you gaze up at him, lashes fluttering like the delicate wings of a butterfly, as you teasingly dart out your tongue to caress the glistening head of his cock. Each lick is a deliberate stroke of temptation, your movements reminiscent of savoring an ice cream cone on a scorching summer day, the taste of him a delectable treat to be savored. And all the while, your eyes remain locked with his, a silent challenge passing between you.

“You’re misbehaving,” he pants, his voice laced with a mixture of warning and desire, yet his gaze softens with an unmistakable tenderness that belies any true threat. But the allure of pushing his boundaries further is too intoxicating to resist, so you continue your ministrations with a defiant smirk, relishing in the delicious tension that crackles between you.

“But you like it, don’t you?” You tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you bat your eyes at him once more. Your hand continues its rhythmic stroking, each movement eliciting a fervent pant of pleasure from him, as the lines between restraint and abandon blur in the heat of the moment.

“I can tell,” you purr, a mischievous smirk dancing upon your lips as you lean in to kiss the head of his cock. With tantalizing finesse, your tongue traces along his slit, teasingly exploring every contour and eliciting a shiver of pleasure that courses through him like wildfire.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice thick with desire as his body quivers under your touch, every sensation echoing with raw intensity. And oh, how you revel in it, the sheer power of your influence over him igniting a fire within you that burns with insatiable passion.

“Spit on my tongue,” you command, your voice a sultry whisper as you eagerly present your tongue before him, a bold invitation that speaks volumes of your desire. The air crackles with anticipation as you wait for his response, every moment pregnant with the promise of ecstasy.

He regards you with a questioning gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re a nasty one, aren’t you?” He muses, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

“Yes. I’m nasty,” you assert, your voice dripping with unabashed confidence as you hold his gaze, unyielding in your demand. “Now spit in my mouth,” with an enticing flicker of your tongue, you beckon him to fulfill your desire, every nerve alive with anticipation for the illicit thrill that awaits.

Immediately complying, he spits on your awaiting tongue, a primal act of submission and passion that ignites a fiery intensity between you. With a seductive smile playing on your lips, you tease him with a playful sway of your hips before taking his dick deep into your mouth in one smooth motion.

You start with a deliberate rhythm, drawing him in with deliberate slowness that belies the fervent desire burning within you. Each inch of him fills your mouth, your throat accommodating his cock as you battle your own limits, a testament to your unwavering dedication to his pleasure. His fingers intertwine with your hair, a gentle yet commanding hold that guides and encourages you to unleash the full force of your prowess.

“Oh fuck,” he rasps, his voice trembling with raw desire as you envelop him with your mouth, every movement sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

You mumble around his cock, the vibrations sending a symphony of pleasure through his body, each note echoing with the intensity of your desire.

He begins to fuck into your warm mouth with urgency, his thrusts gaining momentum with each slide, his grunts coming out in ragged breaths, sounding like he’s thoroughly out of breath.

“You’re doing so good, such a good girl,” he pants, his gaze fixated on you, your mouth enveloping him completely. The sight alone drives him wild, his arousal escalating as he feels his dick twitching inside your warm, welcoming mouth.

One of his hands grabs your cheek and pushes you further into him, your nose grazing against his dark brown pubic hair, leaving you gasping for air as you feel yourself choking on his dick.

“That’s what you get for misbehaving,” he grunts, a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his dick.

You gasp desperately for air, tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the saliva cascading from your lips.

Amidst your desperate panting, his chuckle pierces the air, laden with a menacing edge. Yet, fueled by your own defiance, you can’t resist the urge to unleash the brat within. With newfound fervor, you envelop him once more, your mouth moving in a wild, frenzied rhythm, eager to reclaim your dominance.

His hands grip your hair once more, tugging gently, an urgent plea in his touch. “I don’t want to come yet,” he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint and desire, a silent request for restraint echoed in his words.

Determined, you persist with fervor, each suction more insistent than the last, as if your very existence hinges on the rhythm of your movements. Sensing his impending release, his body becomes a symphony of tension and release, an exquisite dance to the crescendo of pleasure. Yet you press on, his hands now motionless in your hair, surrendering to the inevitable ecstasy building within him.

You moan softly, the vibration adding to the intensity of the moment, your cheeks hollowing as you draw him in, each breath drawn through your nose a desperate echo of your own need. Glancing up at him, you’re met with eyes ablaze, a visage of pure desire and disarray, his appearance a testament to the pleasure that courses through his veins, leaving him utterly ravished.

You press yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper until it meets the resistance of your throat. His fingers tighten around your hair, a sensation that ignites a thrilling burn along your scalp, a welcomed discomfort that fuels your desire. With a frustrated hiss, he releases into your waiting mouth, warm liquid cascading down your throat. You fight the urge to gag, focusing on steady breaths through your nose, grounding yourself in the moment as he reaches the peak of ecstasy.

He gasps, his breath ragged, a testament to his spent state as you continue to coax out every last tremor of pleasure. He lets out a whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity, prompting you to release his dick with a satisfying pop, a glistening string of saliva bridging the connection between you once more.

“You little minx,” he pants, playfully slapping your cheek as a smirk dances on his lips, his eyes ablaze with mischief, like a wildfire of desire.

“I tried so hard not to come, but I guess you had other plans,” he chuckles, his gaze fixed on you as you lick your lips teasingly, each movement a silent invitation for more mischief.

“Yeah, the night is still young,” you declare, rising to your feet with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Without hesitation, you extend your tongue once more, and this time, Jimin eagerly spits into your waiting mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“You’re so nasty,” he smirks, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, as if he’s eager to devour every inch of your being.

When you finally pull apart, you can’t help but chuckle softly. “And you love every bit of it,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

He clearly revels in it, evident as he steps back, shedding his pants and boxers until they form a pool at his feet. Even his shoes aren’t spared, kicked off swiftly as he stands there, completely bare from the waist down.

Despite his softened dick, he remains an arresting sight, captivating and dangerous in his nakedness, every contour and line a testament to his allure.

With effortless strength, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you through your apartment, a smirk playing on his lips. “Bedroom?” He suggests, his voice laced with anticipation.

You chuckle softly, nodding towards your right, and with a casual tap of his foot, he swings the bedroom door open. A rush of heat floods through you, your arousal evident as you feel the slick warmth between your legs, undoubtedly coating him.

He opts not to flip the switch, allowing the gentle glow from the kitchen to filter into your bedroom, casting a tantalizing veil of shadows. With a playful yet confident gesture, he tosses you onto the bed, eliciting a spontaneous burst of laughter from you, reminiscent of a lovestruck fool lost in the feelings of her crush.

You’re well aware that catching feelings wasn’t part of the plan, that this was meant to be a fleeting encounter. Yet, as the intensity of the moment swells around you, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to every sensation, every touch, every whispered word shared between you. Despite your best efforts to guard your heart, you can’t help but revel in the dizzying whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, silently acknowledging that you’re utterly captivated by every moment spent in his company.

He lingers above you, a tantalizing pause that leaves anticipation crackling in the air. Then, with a deliberate yet primal grace, he sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands firmly clasping your ankles as he draws you irresistibly closer to the edge.

With a primal hunger, he yanks your scanty dress up to your waist, a guttural growl escaping his lips as his gaze locks onto your shimmering, needy pussy, the raw desire in his eyes igniting a blazing fire within you.

“Fuck. You’re practically a waterfall down there,” he remarks, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips as he surveys your drenched arousal.

You spread your legs invitingly, gazing down your body at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, have a taste,” you challenge, your voice dripping with anticipation.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs and placing them over his shoulders. His mouth descends to your aching core, lips and tongue poised to give you the attention you crave.

His plush tongue meets your clit first, eliciting a frustrated moan from your lips. He sucks with the hunger of a starved man, savoring your taste. Moving down, he uses his fingers to spread your folds, allowing him to dip his tongue inside your throbbing entrance.

You pant, clenching around his probing tongue, every nerve alight with bliss, feeling as though you’ve been transported to heaven.

His tongue licks and laps at your sensitive skin, each stroke sending shivers through your trembling body. The need building inside you is almost unbearable—you crave so much more.

For a moment, his tongue plunges into your cunt, teasing and stimulating your hole. Growing impatient, your hands dart down to grip his blonde locks, fingers clenching tightly as you try to urge him on, desperate for more of his relentless attention.

He seems to get the hint, moving up to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you release a soft scream.

Your body clenches, fingers gripping his hair tighter as a frustrated grunt escapes your lips.

The room fills with slurping noises, driving your mind into a frenzy of pleasure.

Suddenly, his fingers prod at your entrance, and you clench in anticipation. God, you want it—you want his fingers so bad. Honestly, you crave a lot more than just his fingers.

He pushes in one finger at first, and your breath hitches. Your walls clench around the single digit, and it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into his hand and face, desperate for more.

Fuck, how is he so skilled with both his hands and mouth? His suction on your clit is relentless, alternating between perfect suction and expertly flattening his tongue, sending shivers down your spine as he strokes your bundle of nerves from side to side.

As a second finger joins the first in your tight hole, you gasp at the delicious stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and Jimin’s girthy size alone suggests you’ll need ample preparation. Despite already feeling dripping with anticipation, you know the importance of proper preparation to avoid any uncomfortable burns from the stretch.

With a suction-like force around your clit, he sends you reeling, seeing stars with each electrifying sensation. His face withdraws from your pussy, yet his fingers remain firmly embedded within you, a tantalizing promise of what’s to come.

His face gleams with your essence. His eyes, deep as obsidian, flicker with desire, his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he licks them hungrily. “Think you’re ready for a third finger?”

You moan unabashedly as his fingers find that sweet spot within, every touch igniting a cascade of sensations that render you pliant. Biting your lip to stifle the cries of pleasure, you nod eagerly. “Yes,” you pant, your voice a fervent plea, “please, get me ready for your cock.”

A triumphant smirk dances on his lips as he responds with a pleased grunt, effortlessly sliding in a third finger. The stretch is undeniable, prompting you to draw in a deep breath of air to accommodate the delicious fullness. Though there’s no burning sensation, your body pulses with the intensity of your arousal, each sensation amplified by your slickness.

“You like it?” His voice, a sultry whisper, sends shivers down your spine as he inquires, his pace quickening with each determined thrust of his three fingers inside you. Your response is immediate, a chorus of moans escaping your lips in tandem with his relentless motion.

“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the intensity of his touch reverberate through every fiber of your being. Heat pools at your core, beads of sweat glistening along your hairline, as your body surrenders to the overwhelming waves of pleasure washing over you.

“Just wait until I fill you with my cock,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, his eyes smoldering with desire. “I want to see you fall apart on it. God, you’re so pretty,” he adds, his words a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he returns to your pussy, trailing a teasing lick from his fingers buried inside you up to your throbbing clit, igniting a fire of longing within you.

“Fuck, Jimin. Please,” you pant, your voice thick with need. Every nerve in your body aches for his touch, craving the electrifying sensation of his tongue against your skin once more. You can sense the impending arrival of an orgasm, its tantalizing tendrils teasing at the edges of your consciousness, and you yearn for him to push you over the edge, to obliterate every last shred of restraint until you’re consumed by ecstasy.

“Please what?” He taunts again, his tongue teasingly tracing delicate patterns over your throbbing clit. The sensation sends waves of frustration coursing through you, igniting a fierce longing for more of his touch. You can feel the tension building within you, a potent mix of desire and impatience, as you yearn for his tongue to remain there indefinitely, granting you the blissful release you crave.

“Please make me come already!” You pant in exasperation, your fingers digging into the sheets beside your hips, a desperate plea echoing in the heated air between you.

With a shit-eating smirk, he dives back down, his mouth latching onto your clit with aggressive fervor. His relentless licking sends bolts of electricity through your body, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their relentless thrusting inside you, creating a symphony of pleasure that promises to tip you over the brink of ecstasy any moment now.

As his teeth tug at your clit, a surge of electricity shoots through your body, igniting every nerve ending with anticipation. The knot in your stomach tightens with each tantalizing pull, signaling the imminent unraveling of your senses.

“Yes. Fuck. I’m gonna come, Jimin-ah! Fuck, you’re so good,” the words tumble from your lips in a breathless rush, punctuated by the primal rhythm of your panting. Your body thrashes with unrestrained pleasure, every nerve alive with the electric touch of his lips and tongue. In response, Jimin’s hand tightens around your hips, pulling you even further down into his face.

As his tongue presses down on your throbbing clit, his fingers continue their relentless thrusts, driving you wild with their rapid pace. Your muscles tighten involuntarily, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax. It’s right there, teetering on the edge, tantalizingly close as every fiber of your being aches for release.

With your body trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, he withdraws his tongue from your throbbing clit, his face shimmering with your essence. “Do you really think you deserve to come?” His question hangs in the air, a challenge laced with mischief and desire.

Frustration boils within you, your body teetering on the edge of release, craving that sweet release. With a hiss of desperation, you prop yourself up on your arms, determined to meet his gaze. “I’ll be a good girl,” you plead, your voice a whispered promise laden with need. “I’ll behave. Just let me... please, let me come.”

His tongue returns to your throbbing clit with a ferocity that reignites every nerve ending, driving you to the precipice of ecstasy faster than thought itself. Your breath catches in your throat, each ragged moan echoing the crescendo building within you. As your body tenses with anticipation, you feel the inevitable release cresting like a tidal wave, crashing over you in blissful waves. Tremors ripple through your body, held securely in his grasp, as he maintains his relentless assault of pleasure, ensuring your euphoria knows no bounds.

As the waves of ecstasy continue to crash over you, he remains steadfast in his ministrations, guiding you through the tempest of pleasure. Yet, as the intensity peaks, reaching heights almost unbearable, you signal your overwhelming sensation by grasping his hair once more, a silent plea for respite amidst the storm of sensation.

His fingers retreat, and a pang of longing fills the void they leave behind, craving the sensation of being filled with his touch once more. His gaze meets yours, ablaze with desire and urgency, mirroring the yearning that courses through your own veins.

“Was it good?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at you, observing the subtle flush painting your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes,” you pant, your voice husky with desire, feeling thoroughly ravished. Yet, beneath the lingering sensations, anticipation simmers, an eager yearning for him to take you with his cock, to stretch you, to fill you completely with his intoxicating presence.

He comes up to hover over you, his presence intense as he locks eyes with you. “You know what my plan is?” He murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyebrow raises in curiosity, your heart beating a little faster as you wait for his next move, uncertain yet intrigued.

“I want to ruin you so deeply that every touch, every kiss, every moment with another will only remind you of me,” he whispers huskily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your body responds to his words, your pussy clenching around emptiness at his crude words.

“You’ve already achieved that, Jimin. No other man could ever measure up to the fire you ignite within me,” you confess, your voice laden with desire and admiration, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.

Your gaze, undoubtedly dazed and intoxicated with lust, fixes on him with an urgency that speaks volumes. “Jimin,” you implore, your fingers grasping at his arms, “I need you inside me. Right now. Please fuck me.”

He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes as he bites his lip in contemplation. “Fuck,” he breathes, desire smoldering in his gaze. “I want to fuck you. Badly. But I don’t have condoms. Do you or are you okay without that?”

You hold his gaze, your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you. “I don’t have any condoms either,” you admit, your eyes searching his for reassurance. “But I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?” Your breath steadies, anticipation threading through your words.

His voice carries a confident assurance, yet there’s a vulnerability in his eyes as he meets yours. “Yeah, I’m clean,” he confirms, his tone firm, but tinged with a hint of vulnerability, as if silently seeking your trust.

“Then fuck me already,” you say, a bashful smile playing on your lips, your eyes locked with his, daring him to make the next move.

Jimin sits up, shedding his harness like shedding inhibitions, unbuttoning his white shirt with a flourish and tossing it carelessly to the floor. Now completely naked, he embodies the essence of a god, his presence both captivating and dangerous. Every line of his form speaks of strength and sin, his lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light.

His touch ignites a trail of electricity along your skin as his fingers trace the curve of your sides. With a swift motion, he seizes the fabric of your dress, lifting it over your face, and then, in one fluid movement, he strips it away, revealing your body completely to his hungry gaze.

“No bra?”

With a mischievous chuckle, you shoot him a playful wink, a silent invitation dancing in your eyes.

“You really are a wicked little thing. Were you planning to seduce someone tonight?” His smirk deepens as his gaze lingers on your exposed breasts. His hands, cool against your skin, find their way to your chest, cupping them firmly, coaxing your nipples into stiff peaks within seconds.

He chuckles, his fingers dancing lightly over your skin, teasing and tempting you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as anticipation courses through your veins.

“No, I just revel in the freedom of my body. Restrictions aren’t my thing. Encountering you, though, was a delightful surprise,” you chuckle, feeling his fingertips tracing patterns over your nipples, each touch sending delicious shivers cascading down your spine.

His fingers encircle both of your nipples, pinching them just so, and your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as you pant for breath.

He guides you further up the bed, positioning your entire body for his pleasure. As he settles between your legs, his fingertips dance along your thighs, each touch sending electric waves of anticipation through your body, leaving you trembling in anticipation.

His voice, a low rumble, breaks through the charged air, his eyes seeking confirmation before he delves deeper into the intimacy between you two. “Are you ready?” He inquires, his gaze locking with yours, seeking not just consent, but a shared desire to plunge into the depths of pleasure together.

You respond with an urgent plea, your voice laden with need as you offer yourself fully to him. “Yes. Put your dick in me now,” you moan, your legs parting eagerly, beckoning him to claim you as your desire ignites the air around you.

With an air of command, he positions you, pulling your thighs onto his sides, his posture exuding dominance. As he rises to a sitting position, his dick completely hard again, standing tall and unyielding, eager to claim you once.

“You’re so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs, his hand finding his cock, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest.

“Fuck me, please,” you rasp, the urgency in your voice palpable. Begging isn’t your usual style, but right now, you can’t help it. You need him inside you, filling every inch of you. 

As he aligns his dick with your eager entrance, a primal urgency fills the air. The anticipation builds with each teasing prod against your folds, a delicious tension mounting between you. With a low grunt, he starts to push into you, a slow and deliberate motion that sets your senses ablaze, every inch of him awakening a craving you never knew existed.

“Fucking hell, you are tight!” He pants, the raw intensity of his voice echoing the primal desire between you. With a slick ease, he slides inside, your wetness enveloping him like a long-awaited embrace, each inch stirring a tempest of pleasure that threatens to consume you both.

“Fuck. You’re so thick! It feels so good,” you moan, your voice a symphony of desire as he fills you completely. With him buried deep within, he pauses, his gaze intense and heated, a testament to the raw hunger pulsating between you, his sweat-slicked skin glistening in the dim light.

The way he stretches you is nothing short of incredible, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. Your hands grasp onto his arms, seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of pleasure, forging a connection to him as he pushes you to the brink of ecstasy.

Then, he begins to move, drawing out slowly only to thrust back in with an irresistible force. Your gasp of pleasure is swallowed by the room as he establishes a rapid rhythm, plunging into you with a relentless urgency.

The bed jolts against the wall, the sound echoing through the room, and you know your neighbors will hear, but you couldn’t care less. You’re being thoroughly ravished, lost in the primal intensity of it all. The sheer ecstasy of the moment eclipses any concern for discretion.

He presses his weight into you, drawing you closer in an embrace that feels almost possessive. In a sudden rush of intimacy, he leans down to meet your lips, igniting a fiery kiss that seems to consume you both. As his body melds with yours, his every movement synchronized with the rhythmic pulse of his thrusts, you feel an electric connection unlike anything you've experienced before.

With tantalizing slowness, he trails kisses along your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. His lips wander to your jawline, peppering it with delicate kisses before descending to the curve of your throat. There, he lingers, his mouth exploring every inch, igniting a primal desire that courses through your veins. Gradually, he moves downward, his lips now caressing your breasts with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.

His tongue dances sensually around your hardened nipple, sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. As his skilled hand teases and strokes the other, you arch into his touch, a symphony of sensations unraveling within you. With each gentle suck, you find yourself uttering his name in a breathless plea, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

The sensation is intoxicating, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and desire that threatens to consume every inch of your being.

His closeness envelops you, his intoxicating scent mingling with yours, creating an intoxicating blend of desire. With each meeting of your hips, his warmth and the firmness of his cock hitting your sweet spot send ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting yet another primal moan from your lips.

“Jimin!” You moan, your hands instinctively flying up to his hair, fingers entwining in the soft strands as he devours your nipple, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, igniting a dazzling array of stars behind your closed eyelids.

He hums and chuckles around your breasts, the vibrations sending delightful shivers down your spine, his enjoyment evident in the way he savors every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

Then, he shifts his mouth over to the other nipple, the suction intense and demanding, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body. Simultaneously, his hand finds the other nipple, tugging at it with a tantalizing mix of firmness and gentleness.

His thrusts are relentless, driving deep into you with an intensity that leaves you reeling, each plunge sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s so overwhelming, you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

With a soft pop, Jimin releases your nipple, his lips trailing a path of fire as he moves back up to your neck, planting gentle kisses that send shivers down your spine. 

You pull him tighter into your embrace, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you confess, “Shit. I’m so close.” The urgency in your voice mirrors the pounding of your heart, each beat echoing the relentless rhythm of your desire.

His voice, thick with desire, resonates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he urges, “Come on my cock. I wanna feel you more.”

The raw, primal tone of his words sends a jolt of electricity through you, stirring an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. Every filthy utterance from his lips molds your insides like soft clay, leaving you trembling with an insatiable hunger for more.

His touch ignites a wildfire of sensation, each pinch and twist of your hardened peaks sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body again. You surrender to the delicious torment, your back arching instinctively as uninhibited moans escape your lips, a symphony of desire echoing through the room.

“Cream my dick, I know you can do it,” his words, a potent blend of desire and command, fuel your fervor even more. With each authoritative utterance, your need intensifies, the primal rhythm of his thrusts, his cock hitting heavenly places inside. His voice, a dark symphony of dominance, stirs something primal within you, urging you to surrender completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

With a tantalizing flick of his fingers as he pinches your nipple again, igniting a rush of sensation through your body, and a thrust that delves deeper than before, your senses blur, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of pleasure. As his dick plunges into you, reaching depths that send shockwaves of ecstasy through your core, you’re transported to the brink of euphoria. On the tender spot of your neck, he sucks a hickey there. With a primal cry that echoes through the room, you surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, releasing your essence onto his throbbing cock.

When your walls tighten around him, a low growl of pleasure escapes his lips, punctuating the intensity of the moment. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he gasps, his voice laced with ecstasy. As the pressure builds within him, he can feel the impending release drawing near. “I’m gonna come soon too,” he confesses, the urgency in his tone mirroring the electric tension between you.

You pant, your chest heaving as you slowly descend from the peak of your ecstasy. Every breath feels like a blessing, leaving you in a state of serene satisfaction. Jimin’s touch has shifted, his fingers tracing gentle paths along your sides, while his hips move against yours with a newfound tenderness, each roll diving into you in a more sensual manner.

His thrusts delve even deeper, each movement driving him to the core of your being, sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your body. The rhythmic collision of his hips against yours, accompanied by the tantalizing impact of his balls against your pussy, ignites a fire within you, consuming you with an insatiable hunger for more.

He hisses, a primal sound escaping his lips, as you feel the telltale twitch of his cock deep inside you, signaling his imminent release. His breath quickens, each exhale a symphony of urgency, while his once graceful movements give way to a primal frenzy. With a feverish intensity, he plunges into you, each thrust a fervent pursuit of his climax.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, a symphony of pleasure and need in your voice, struggling to maintain your composure as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a wildfire of sensation within you. Despite the intensity, or perhaps because of it, you find yourself surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, relishing every moment of his powerful onslaught.

“Shit. I’m losing control. I—, I can’t,” he begins to mumble, his voice strained with an unexpected vulnerability, and you observe a fleeting, pained expression flicker across his face. 

You reach out for him, your hands cradling his face with a tender urgency. “Don’t be afraid,” you murmur, your voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of sensations. “Just let go. Come inside me and fill me up,” you whisper, your words a gentle invitation laced with a primal hunger that echoes the rhythm of your entwined bodies.

His gaze darkens, a tempest swirling in those depths, as if wrestling with unseen forces. With a guttural grunt, he appears on the verge of surrender, yet something holds him back, an inner conflict etched across his features like a turbulent battle playing out before your eyes.

With a few final, desperate thrusts, he succumbs, his release flooding into your welcoming depths, a primal grunt escaping his lips as he fills you with his heated essence, a potent mixture of ecstasy and raw desire intertwining in the heat of the moment.

Ecstasy floods your senses as you revel in the sensation of being completely filled, every nerve ending electrified with pleasure. Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the intense ecstasy coursing through your veins.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” his voice, filled with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, pants out an apology, his breaths ragged and heavy. It’s a symphony of emotions, the frustration of losing control mingling with the sheer bliss of the moment.

Confused by his apology, you chuckle softly, your hands finding solace in tracing patterns on his back, a silent reassurance amidst the continued rhythm of his movements within you. 

His lips tenderly graze your neck, igniting a playful giggle within you. As his affection turns fervent, you relish in the sensation of him marking you, a primal instinct you love. Yet, the playful nip lingers longer, teeth sinking deeper than expected, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Your moans escalate, desire fueling your body’s response. But as the dizziness sets in and the need for air becomes desperate, a chilling realization dawns upon you—something is wrong.

Your eyelids flutter shut, a shiver racing down your spine as an icy chill envelops you, sapping away your energy. In the eerie silence that follows, darkness descends, swallowing you whole.

Someone shakes you gently, and you recognize Jimin’s touch. A warm, sticky sensation trails down your neck. Blood? The throb in your neck intensifies, a soreness radiating from the spot. Did he bite you so hard that you passed out?

“Y/N, oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His voice trembles with distress and worry as he gazes down at you, his eyes wide with panic.

“Why?” You ask, your voice slurred and heavy with exhaustion. Every word feels like an effort, and you’re overwhelmed by a bone-deep fatigue.

“I’m— I couldn’t stop,” he sobs, his voice cracking with guilt. You’re utterly baffled, trying to piece together what just happened.

“I should have told you sooner,” he mumbles, tears glistening in his eyes and his lips trembling. He looks like a completely different person from the confident man you met in Magic Shop.

“What’s wrong?” you groan in pain, attempting to move your body, but it refuses to cooperate, leaving you feeling heavy and unresponsive.

“I’m a vampire…” he confesses, his eyes lingering on your naked body, the sight of blood trickling from your neck and staining the white sheets.

“What?” Your eyes snap open, awareness flooding back as you see his tear-streaked face. Your heart aches at the sight, and you instinctively reach out, gently brushing away one of his tears.

“It’s okay. I had a feeling,” you murmur, doing your best to reassure him. When his tear-filled eyes meet yours again, you give him a soft, comforting smile.

“I think I drank too much from you. I’m so sorry. I should have asked,” he stammers, his voice heavy with shame. His eyes drop to the floor, reflecting his internal struggle. You can tell he takes immense pride in his self-control, and losing it tonight is tearing him apart.

“Jimin, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you reassure him, masking your own weakness as you attempt to sit up, your arms trembling slightly beneath you.

“It’s not fine. You passed out,” he grumbles, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, his lips forming a subtle pout.

"Oh. I did?" you ask, a flicker of confusion crossing your face as you piece together the fragments of your memory.

You take your hand up to your neck, fingers trembling slightly as they brush over the tender skin. Examining your palm, you find it smeared with a trace of blood, a stark reminder of the unexpected turn the night has taken. It’s not much though, and you guess the bleeding has almost stopped.

You reach out for him once more, closing the distance between you with a sudden, passionate kiss. The intensity of your embrace catches him off guard, his eyes widening in surprise, his lips yielding to the unexpected fervor of your touch.

When you draw back, your gaze locks onto his, unwavering and filled with a mix of emotions. “It’s still the best and most unforgettable one-night stand ever,” you declare, your words carrying a weight of sincerity and a hint of lingering desire.

He offers you a small smile that swiftly morphs into a mischievous smirk, as if he’s silently challenging you to another round.

“You know, I’m all for making this a regular thing, if you’re up for it. I mean, I don’t mind a little bite here and there. Maybe not to the point of blacking out, but everything before that? Damn, it was fucking hot,” you suggest with a playful wink, your sultry gaze locked with his, a subtle invitation lingering in the air as you moisten your lips.

An exasperated groan escapes him, his fangs emerging, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You extend your hand, tracing his full lips before daringly brushing your fingertips over his sharp fangs, a mixture of curiosity and arousal coursing through you.

Your gaze drifts downwards, finding his glistening dick coated in a mixture of your essence and his, standing proudly. With a seductive nibble on your lower lip, you reach out, your hand finding his throbbing cock, stroking it with deliberate intent, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as pleasure courses through his body.

Teasingly, you inquire, “Ready to go for another round already? Got some superhuman stamina hidden in there?” Your jest is accompanied by an increase in pace, your hand working with newfound fervor, eliciting gasps of pleasure from him as his body responds eagerly to your touch.

In between gasps and needy pants, he admits, “Something like that.” 

His voice, dripping with desire, sends shivers down your spine. “I’m ready for more. And you... do you really want this to be a regular thing?” His words punctuate each stroke, his pleasure palpable as he speaks. 

“I’ve never found anyone who could keep up with me and my needs like this,” he confesses, his eyes closing intermittently in pure ecstasy.

“Yes, Jimin, me too,” you breathe, your voice husky with desire. “I feel like I’ve finally met my equal. You satisfy me in ways no one ever has. Please.” Your words, a soft plea, dance across his ear, sending shivers down his spine. As you feel him quivering beneath your touch, you know this connection is something truly special.

“Let me ride you,” you suggest with a sultry smile, but you’re not one to wait for permission. With a swift movement, you push him down onto the bed, eliciting a hiss of surprise followed by a deep, rumbling laugh from him. It’s a playful exchange, full of anticipation and eagerness for what’s to come.

“Fuck, I think I might be in love,” he groans, his words punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as you straddle him, aligning yourself with his throbbing cock. With a slow, deliberate movement, you sink down onto him, relishing in the now familiar, exquisite stretch that never fails to send shivers of pleasure down your spine, something you’ll never tire off.

[pickingupmymercedes]

It still is - Lewis Hamilton 2/3

An Invisible String Theory Story - It was always them (pt.1). It still is (pt.2). It will always be (pt.3).

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: bits of angst but mainly fluff.

wordcount: +1K

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The weight of the world seemed to rest on Lewis's chest as he tossed and turned in the king-sized bed, the cover tangled around him. The once familiar expanse of the mattress now felt like an icy stone, devoid of warmth and comfort.

He glanced at the clock, the luminous green numbers mocking him with their clarity: 3:17 AM.

Sleep was a distant, elusive concept.

The echo of their argument reverberated in his ears, a haunting echo of accusations. Her words, sharp and cutting, replayed on an endless loop, each syllable a fresh wound.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d fought this viciously. Words had become weapons, each one a sharp blow.

His mind replayed the argument like a broken record, isolating every cruel remark he’d made. He had never imagined a silly disagreement could escalate. A fight, yes, they'd had their share. Heated arguments, misunderstandings blown out of proportion. But this... this one felt different.

It had started with a dinner reservation being cancelled. And it hadn’t bothered him at all. Until she joked nothing seemed to bother him about their relationship lately.   

He’d then accused her of taking him for granted, of prioritizing her career over their relationship. It was a cruel and unfair accusation, and he knew it. She had always balanced her career with their relationship. It was he who had been neglecting her, lost in the whirlwind of his own world.

"You're always about you," she had said, her voice laced with venom. "It's always been about your career, your image. I'm just an accessory to your perfect life."

The accusation had struck him like a physical blow. It was unfair, untrue, but the hurt in her voice was real. The argument had escalated from there, a vicious cycle of blame and resentment.

He’d said things he didn’t mean, things that had sliced through her like a knife. The memory of her face, pale and drawn, haunted him. He could still hear the hurt in her voice when she’d said, “I need space, Lewis.”

He remembered the way her eyes had filled with tears as she’d grabbed her purse and looked back at him. She looked like she wanted to say something but decided against it, and he’d wanted to reach out, to pull her back into his arms, but pride had held him back.

Now, alone in the quiet of the night, he was left to grapple with the aftermath. Replaying the conversation in his mind, searching for a way to undo the damage. But the more he thought about it, the more trapped he felt.

He had fell for her even before he had even met her. Like he had been going after the crumbs she left in his world.

She was everything he always thought he wouldn’t want: spontaneous, expansive, fearless and unapologetically herself. She’d been a breath of fresh air, a striking contrast to what he had in his life. And he'd been instantly drawn to her, a magnetic pull he couldn’t explain.

Together, they had built a life filled with an unforeseeable love and shared hunger to build on their dreams. But now, that foundation seemed to be shaking beneath them.

He tried to focus on something else, anything to distract himself. He thought about the upcoming race, about the car setup, about the strategies. But his mind kept wandering back. He missed her touch, her laughter, how she knew just where to push him, and the comforting rhythm of their existence, together. Y/N was the only one who wasn't afraid to tell him when he was being an arrogant ass. She was his reality check, his compass

He had hurt her, deeply. And he had no idea how to fix it. He was a man of control, of calculated risks, but right then, he felt powerless.

The memory surfaced with a clarity that bordered on hallucination. It was a world of flashing lights, loud music, and a backstage chaos that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. He was there as a Dior ambassador, a role that had thrust him into the heart of the fashion world.

He remembered the palpable tension backstage, a mix of excitement and nerves that hung heavy in the air. Models were being prepped, hair and makeup artists were working furiously, and a sense of controlled pandemonium reigned supreme. Amidst the chaos, he’d spotted her.

She was a vision of focused intensity, her hands deftly manipulating fabric as she conferred with a colleague. There was an aura of authority about her, a quiet confidence that set her apart from the crowd. He could recognize her instantly, even from a distance.

Their paths collided, just as he had predicted, as they both reached for a glass of water on a nearby table. Their hands brushed, a spark jolting through him. For a brief, suspended moment, they were locked in a silent exchange, their eyes meeting across the narrow space.

A shared laugh from a nearby stylist broke the tension. The woman standing beside Y/N turned to Lewis with a warm smile. “Lewis? It’s so good to see you here.”

“Likewise,” he replied, his gaze still lingering on Y/N. “And, might I ask who you are?”

“Right, sorry. That’s Y/n” the woman replied. “She’s a friend, helping around. She’s working with Ferrari; you’d probably meet her anyway”

Y/N looked up, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Hi. Lewis Hamilton, right?!” she said, her voice steady.

He returned her smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve been following your work at Ferrari. Impressive.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

“I’m looking forward to working with you next season,” he added, referring to his impending move to Ferrari.

A beat of silence passed between them; a charged moment filled with the unspoken future. And then, as quickly as it had begun, the moment was gone. The show was about to start, and the backstage chaos resumed.

But as he watched her walk away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that their paths were going to cross again. And he wouldn’t let the moment go.

The morning light was beginning to filter through the curtains when his phone buzzed, breaking the silence of the apartment. A surge of hope and dread washed over him as he reached for the device.

It was a text from Y/N:

I don’t want to fight, not for something so stupid. I miss you.

The message was simple, yet it carried the weight of the thousand apologies he didn’t know how to tell her. She had always been better at words than he’d ever be.

He dialed her number, his fingers trembling slightly.

The phone rang once, twice, before she answered. Her voice, though soft, was laced with a hint of weariness.

"Hey," she said, the word barely a whisper.

"I'm on my way," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "I can't sleep without you."

There was a pause, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken. Then, a small, almost shy laugh escaped her lips.

"I miss you too, Lewis," she said, her voice softening. "I'll make coffee."

A sense of calm washed over him as he heard her laugh. He was going home.

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he promised.

There was another pause. “I’ll be waiting,” she replied, and then, softly, “I’m sorry too.”

He smiled. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I know we will” she said.

______________________________________________________________

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[messenger-of-babel]

Blue is a Christmas Colour

Summary: You attend a Christmas party held by the titans and spend the evening trying to avoid your crush. (Dick Grayson x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: Def pushing everything back by a day, I got sick (curse the Aussie summer heat) so I'm taking it easy. Not many warning for this one, except maybe a slightly OOC Dick? Idk I've never had to write them not in pain before.

~RiRi <33

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You had exactly one hour before the Christmas party, yet you were faced with the classic Hallmark crisis of having nothing to wear.

Sure, you had been confident in your outfit a day before the party. You were sure it was going to look nice a few hours ago, and you were convinced you were ready to leave the house and arrive early as you were getting dressed. However now that you were looking at yourself in the mirror, you just couldn't feel comfortable in the outfit. Despite being something you wore no problem last year, it somehow didn’t look right on you, the material was puckering in the wrong places and for the life of you, you couldn't get the fabric to fold down flat.

So now it was thrown across the bedspread alongside half of your wardrobe, a steadily rising pile of red, green and white. You ran your fingers through your hair in frustration. You weren't sure why you were so concerned about looking your best for a simple Christmas party. You had been invited to an end of year get together by the Titans, despite only joining their ranks earlier in August. You told yourself that it was because of being new and wanting to make a good impression, that you could let your hair down and have fun. That you weren't always the hard ass, follow the protocol type that you were at work. You told yourself that it was because you liked Christmas and wanted to just celebrate the holidays in style. Or maybe it was the fact that you were technically in the public eye at all times since you didn't wear a mask, and what if you got caught off guard on your way there? There were a million excuses that you made in about the span of a minute, just to ignore the real reason.

To try and block out the memory of how your stomach fluttered when the team leader, Dick Grayson asked if you'd like to attend. Forget the way that your cheeks burned with heat catching sight of his smile, or the thudding of your pulse against your neck when he shielded you during a mission. You refused to have a one-sided crush, so with a groan you rubbed your hands over your face.

Thirty minutes to go and you were now staring at yourself, happy yet mortified with your outfit choice.

Who said blue couldn't be a Christmas colour? you had split it up with white, but you still chewed your lip. Maybe I could say it's like a snowflake, you thought to yourself. Or like a Jack Frost theme. Still kicking yourself over your outfit choice, you had no time to dally. You were locked into this now. You threw on some accessories on your way to the door, making sure you had your keys and phone in your purse before locking your apartment and hurrying down the stairs. The lift was broken, so by the time you finally got to the lobby you were out of breath from your clipped jog, scanning your FOB to get to the garage.

Settling in behind the wheel you buckled in and checked your phone to make sure there wasn't anything you needed before arriving. The group chat was pinging with people's ETA’s, and you typed in your own "On my way, be there about ten." before locking your phone and putting it back in your purse. Your stomach rolled uncomfortably, making you tap your fingers on the wheel anxiously as you started up the car. Hopefully your subconscious wasn't too obvert, and people didn't have a laugh at you for the left field Christmas outfit. Hopefully HE wouldn’t laugh.

Yet if you had stayed in the group chat for just a moment more, you would have seen the blue heart react that popped up on your message almost immediately, before the other colours started adding to it.

You parked your car nearby the team headquarters, somewhere that you could slip away to easily at the end of the night without being worried about a stupid camera flash. The elevator ride up you couldn't help but fiddle with your fingers, rocking on your heels. You got this, no one's going to notice-

The doors slide open and you almost bump into someone, and you can feel their eyes scan across your figure like it's a hot brand.

"Hey, nice-"

"It's a snowflake." you blurt out, making Donna's eyes widen. She holds a moment before laughing, eyes crinkling as her head tips back.

"I was just trying to say I was glad you could make it." she grins, the confusion in her eyes overwritten by the laughter on her face. "And that blue is a good colour on you."

Your cheeks fill with heat, and you place your palms over them in embarrassment. "Oh."

"OH, is correct." she hums, shaking her head. "Come on, nearly everyone else is here."

Donna links her arm with yours, pulling you further down the hallway until you can hear the faint sound of Christmas music and chatter from behind a door. She pushes it open confidently, half dragging you into the room with her.

The room is decorated lavishly, tinsel and wreaths hanging off every roof and column edge. The few standing tables are filled with ornament table arrangements, and there's an icy sheen projected onto the dance floor. You wave at Raven and Kory lightly, who are standing on the other side of the room at one of the tables. Theres a small Santa hat clipped to Raven, most likely the work of the happy, red-headed alien next to her sporting two mini hats of her own.

You're still new, so you feel awkward talking so casually to some of the other members by yourself, so you stick as close to Donna as possible. She had helped you out a few times on missions, and her internal resolve int the face of conflict had helped you mitigate your own panic more than you could count. It was the same confidence you saw on the battlefield that she used now, except instead of a warzone it was a somewhat active Christmas party.

Some days you wondered how you even got into the hero business in the first place.

The first time you had caught Dick's eye was when you were going to grab a drink from the crystal punch bowls on the side, weaving your way through the small crowd. He came up beside you, giving you that stellar smile that made your head rush.

"Hey."

"Hey." you replied curtly, unable to make anything else come out of your throat.

"You look nice."

"Thank you. It's a snowflake." you blurted, fingers tightening on your glass as you filled it.

"I can see that."

"Yes."

You had proceeded to scuttle away, leaving him slightly stunned. The entire way back to Donna's side you kicked yourself, nails digging into your palm out of frustration. You needed to put some distance between you two. You couldn't get attached. You needed to shake him like the flu, push down those jitters in your hands and round up those stomach butterflies with a net.

Dick Grayson on the other hand, appeared to be much more a trouble than you had begun to imagine. It was almost like he was tracking you down the whole night, appearing when you talked to Kory, sliding into the conversation when you struck one up with Gar. He happened to be around every corner fixing his shoe or making sure that the decorations were just right.

"Had to make sure everywhere was decorated." he'd shrug before striking up some awkward small talk. Teammates had begun to giggle, and so you finally left the main room when you could take it no more, hurrying into the hallway to take a break.

You sighed deeply, putting a hand on your forehead.

Now you were alone, now you could gather your thoughts-

"Do you not like me?"

Your eyes fly open at the sound of his voice. You should have known that if anyone was going to notice your disappearance, it was going to be him first. Dick stands a few paces away from you, suit crisp and holly pinned to his lapel. He tilts his head, studying your startled expression, while hurt is written on him like a book. "I understand that not everyone gets along, but I thought we got along fine before." he frowns. "Did I do something wrong? Could you tell me what I did?" he asks you softly, and you have to stop him there.

"You did nothing wrong. “You rush out, taking a step forward. "You're fine, it's nothing."

"Then why are you avoiding me?" the hue of his eyes flicker with a clear flame of hurt, and his hands hang limply by his side.

You sigh, fingers wringing together. "Dick it isn't you, it's just I-"

"You what?" he presses, stepping forward again.

"I just-"

"Just?"

"I like you, okay? And I don't know how to handle it!" You snap, the pressure welling up in your chest like a dam. He looks stunned at your outburst, and immediately you cover your face. You blew it, and you blew it big time.

"God, just forget I said anything actually. It's just the stress, it's all been getting to me, and the missions lately-"

"I like you too."

"It's all just been building up, you know? So sometimes I say things I don't really mean...what?"

Dick begins to laugh, running a hand through the black mess of hair. "I said I like you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." he grins, coming to stand in front of you. "Why didn't you just say something sooner?"

"Because not everyone is a charming flirt." you shake your head. "And I wanted to keep things professional between us."

"I think you're very charming." he grins, eyes glinting in the low light like a cat. "Very charming and very professional. It's cute."

Your cheeks heat up, stealing the words from your chest.

"You know, I liked you since you had my six on the rooftop stakeout." He says quietly, eyes shimmering with a boyish look. A lovesick look. You raise your eyebrows in return. "The one where you almost got jumped by a henchman?"

"That's the one."

"I would have thought that was embarrassing for you."

"You stopped him, didn't you?"

"Yeah, by throwing a brick."

"See? you had it handled."

"It was the closest thing to me, and I panicked."

"Just take a compliment, will you?" He laughs, and the sound makes the tension melt from your shoulders as well. You laugh alongside him, not realising how close you had gotten. He was so close that you could fix the shift in his red tie and push the black strands of hair from his sparkling blue eyes.

"Merry Christmas." he says softly, eyes flicking around the hallway. "Say, are you much for traditions?"

You tilt your head at the sudden change of topic but follow his eyes up to see a white berried bunch of mistletoe hanging from the archway. "Did you plan this?" you accuse jokingly.

Dick puts his hands up in mock defence. "Hey, I did say the whole building got decorated." He teases, eyes flicking from the mistletoe back down to your lips. "Do you...may I?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours for permission.

You swallow and nod, blood rushing to your head as he smiles and draws closer. H his hand that comes to rest on your hip feels like a thousand degrees, and when you close your eyes and his lips slot over yours you feel like you're on fire. It only lasts for a few fleeting moments, his actions gentle and soothing before he pulls away. You find yourself wanting to lean forward and chase the taste of mint and candy cane on his lips, hazy as the giddiness sets in that you just kissed Dick Grayson.

"Wanna rejoin the party?" he asks, grinning as he sees the faint shock the kiss left you in. He offers you his hand and this time you take it with no hesitation. You offer him up a smile, seeing your own excitement reflected in the flickering of his irises.

"Sure." you hum. Maybe this wasn't the worst way to end a year.

"Oh, and no one is buying that snowflake story."

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ You Keep Me Under Your Spell...✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Michizō Tachihara

a/n: i can't get enough of him! tysm for all the support ♡ so happy to be a part of this lil tachihara cult, i love interacting w/ all of you and reading all the tachihara thirst in my inbox!! >> read part one and part two

content warning: f!reader. MDNI! sum mean language (tachihara and reader briefly say some hurtful shit at each other/cuss at each other), risky sex (no condom - wrap it up y'all), car sex ;)

summary: maybe he is the jealous type, after all.

The minute you arrive, you feel eyes on you.

Glowering, amber eyes, glaring at you from the corner of the room. You're at a birthday party, a mutual of you and Tachihara's from back when you two were still high schoolers, just two punks skipping school and committing petty crime. Since those days, you've gone on to a life of normalcy, Tachihara's moved up to the Port Mafia, and that was that.

He's in his usual ensemble – a plain grey shirt and black jeans. Out of the corner of your eye, you can make out the scowl on his face as he watches you, the disdain on his lips as you enter the room. You're wearing something he's never seen you in before – but it's not your outfit that catches his attention; rather, it's the strange accessory you have on. That is, the man whose arm is wrapped around your waist, who, for some godforsaken reason, seems to believe he has some right to touch you so intimately.

It’s not like Tachihara has some claim on you, either.

The both of you decided to just be friends and it was him who initiated that conversation in the first place. And yet, his gaze is scorching you as you walk to fix yourself a drink, and the minute you find yourself alone, he's following you out the door.

You're standing outside on the patio when you feel Tachihara's hand grab your wrist, then you hear his rough voice behind you. "You shouldn't be with that asshole, he's a piece of shit," he mutters, and his voice comes out angrier than he expects, surprising the both of you. "Trust me, he's in Port, too. That motherfucker can't do a goddamn thing right."

Annoyed, you snatch your wrist away and roll your eyes. "It's not that serious, trust me," you interrupt him, shuffling through your bag for your lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "Besides, who are you to tell me who I can and can't spend my time with?" you mumble.

He winces, then looks away shamefully, biting his lip at a loss for words. You have a point – he has no right to tell you what to do. Still, there's no hiding the hurt that's in his eyes. Then, he huffs frustratedly, grabbing the pack of cigarettes out of your hand and lighting his own. "You know what, you're so fuckin' stubborn."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you hiss, clearly pissed off. "Now, you're just making shit up –"

"– I mean, why do you need him?" he blurts out. "My dick not good enough for you?"

"You know what, Michi?" you scoff, completely thrown off by what he just said. "I can't believe you just said that. Honestly, fuck you. I know you're seeing other girls, too – I fucking know it."

"Huh?"

There's a look of bewilderment on his face, but you press on. "Who the fuck is Teruko? I saw her name on your phone the last time we were fucking. You're fucking other girls. Don't even fucking lie to me –"

"You idiot, that's my...” he sighs, resigning, then shakes his head in disbelief. You feel strong arms scoop you into a tender embrace, then feel yourself melt against the heat of his body as he holds your head firmly against his chest. “God, you’re an idiot..." he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair. "She's just a brat co-worker... and why were you snooping through my phone?"

He's warm, so warm. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, and smush your face against his shirt, hoping they don't stain. "You're so goddamn clingy," he mutters teasingly, stroking your hair. "Have you always been this way?"

"You're... one to talk," you protest, sniffling as you push him away lightly, "Hounding me because I... showed up with someone else..."

You hear him snicker, then his fingers are lacing through yours. "Oh yeah? Then let me make it up to you. Come here."

. . .

You recognize the vehicle immediately – it's the same one that you arrived in. He unlocks it easily with his metal manipulation, then the next thing you know Tachihara is backing you inside of it, kissing your lips like he's insatiable, his mouth traversing your neck and collarbone while his fingers recklessly tangle through your hair. It's nothing but the sound of gasps as your mouths meet frantically, exchanging spit as you swirl your tongues together. You latch your arms around his neck as he struggles to adjust the angle of the driver's seat with his spare hand, his other hand firmly gripping your waist as you crawl over him to straddle him. Then, "Ow, fuck!" you hear him grumble as you topple over him, kneeing him between the legs, and he snickers as the car honks when your ass bumps against the steering wheel.

His fingers make quick work of your shirt, and he carelessly tosses it to the backseat, but you curse at yourself for wearing pants instead of a skirt. He pulls back with a cheeky grin as you clumsily shimmy out of your clothes, struggling to undress yourself in the cramped car. "Just a fuckin' minute," you mutter irritably, rolling your eyes at him as he undoes his own belt smugly. Then, the next minute, you're on top of him again, his hands fitted to your waist, eyeing your body up and down.

"You're beautiful," he says. Beautiful – oh. The way he says it, he makes it sound so simple and plain – like it's something so obvious, something that he's always seen in you. Beautiful is a much different word than hot or sexy, and you know certainly the difference. You definitely felt it the last few times he's said it, when his arms have lingered around your waist a little too long, fingers grasping your skin ever so slightly. It was the whole reason you felt so damn spited after you saw someone else's name in his phone in the first place.

You feel your cheeks warming up, then you feel Tachihara capture your chin, bringing you to gaze into his glowing amber eyes, hot with desire. "You're not even gonna look at me?" he asks in a low hum, stroking a fire inside of you as you peer into his eyes. There's a mischievous grin on his face as he reads your expression, which has now become embarrassed. "You had so much to say earlier..."

"You're so goddamn annoying," you mumble, pushing him away weakly. Then, his lips are on yours again. Slow, sensual kisses that become quickly become fervent and desperate; he lifts you up, then you feel him reach for himself, easing the blunt head inside of you – and, oh.

God.

You'll never get used to the feeling of Tachihara's dick, and the way that it stretches you out so perfectly. You whimper as you sink down on his length. He smirks up at you, watching the way your eyelashes flutter at him as you feel him fill you up completely. You're gorgeous at this angle, looking like a doll sitting on top of him. You throb as you feel him grasp your hips tightly, then you drag your nails across his shoulders, making him groan.

Then, you start moving – muscles tensing in your legs as you lift your weight from him, then take him inch by inch until you're bouncing on top of him. He bites his lip and leans back to admire the view. "Fuck," he pants, then he throws his head back and exposes the pale, slender column of his neck, his calloused hands grabbing at you recklessly. "You look so hot when you ride me. God, fuck..."

– and you can just hear the sheer satisfaction in his voice as he grins up at the sight of you. While you look great in every position, cowgirl has to be one of his favorites. Something about having your tits shoved in his face just does it for him.

You're moaning filthily in his ear as he grabs your breasts, tweaking your nipples until you're crying out for him. Yeah, that's right – say his name, he thinks cockily as he grips you tightly. Forget about that asshole you came with. It should have been him who accompanied you here, not that dirty prick.

"God... I love fucking you," he says with a wild look in his eye, panting heavily. "Hell, what were you even doin' with that loser? Tryna' make me jealous or somethin'?" he hisses, skimming his teeth against a sensitive spot on your chest that makes you tug just a little tighter on his hair. "Hah, well it worked..." he groans, slamming your hips down against his harder and rougher. You stutter out his name, digging your nails into his shoulders as he takes control from you. "Don't look at anyone else besides me from now on. You're fucking mine."

There's not an ounce of lightheartedness in his voice, and when you meet his gaze, all you find is fierce amber eyes peering at you, waiting for you to claim him back. So, you kiss him – kiss him with all the ferocity that you can, weaving your fingers through his hair as you mold your body against his form, as you shove your waist firmly against his and feel him meet you deep inside. "Only if you're mine, too," you whisper softly, planting kisses along the freckles on his jawline. "Then, I'm yours, idiot. Who else's?"

There's a short pause – no words between you, nothing but your hearts beating fast. You're both silent, holding your breath.

Then, he cusses under his breath. "You know what? Fuck this. I need you. But not in his shitty car –

You're coming home with me."

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

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[autumnmist101]

Random Individual Hermit Head-cannons

Xisuma: Voidwalker

Keeps pictures of his favorite moments from each of the hermits' first seasons.

Void searched for Pearl and Jimmy specifically. Did this right after Grian explained his backstory and that he didn’t know if his siblings were alive.

Adopted both Mumbo and False in season two, but at separate times. They don't talk about it much though. ______________________________________________________________

VintageBeef: Cow hybrid

Makes the best deviled eggs anyone has ever tasted. ______________________________________________________________

Mumbo: Had a phase where he was a bunny hybrid (have a shpeel about it but that's too long for this post)

Would wear a fake mustache when he was too young to grow one. (The others found it adorable)

Second person to find out about Grian's backstory

Writes letters to Iskall while he's away doing Vault Hunters even though he knows he won't write back. ______________________________________________________________

Iskall: Man raised by villagers (I've heard this was popular hc/cannon)

Misses Architect and kept a picture of the potato Grian threw into it.

Hums the Dragon bros song while doing redstone

Reads every letter Mumbo writes to him while at Vault Hunters

Spent two days eating ice cream in bed when Joel dumped him (Stress dragged him out of it and made him do work) ______________________________________________________________

Gem: Hybrid forms: Tropical fish/sea creature, Fox, Deer, Elf

Confronted/nearly killed Scott during an Empires' meeting after hearing that he abandoned Pearl in DL.

Can't use chopsticks. Makes them shish-kabob sticks instead.

Loves ice-skating dates (platonic) with Pearl.

If she can't plays at least one T-Swift song on a road trip. Then she's the only artist the car gets to listen to when heading back home.

Protective as heck when she finds out someone's sick. (Nurse mod Gem activates)

Harder punches mean more love, and Gem is, according to many, a 'very affectionate' hermit. >:D

Twin of Fwhip, sister of Sausage. ______________________________________________________________

Bdubs: Hybrids- Bug, Glare, Horse

Can NOT have energy drink. Will be constantly building, and answering anything via screaming. Not to mention, won't be able to shreep. ______________________________________________________________

Scar: Hybrid forms: Vex and Cat.

Has a chewing necklace he loses constantly

An amazing cook despite the kitchen being on fire.

Has wheelchair and cane accessories from his friends. ie. wheelchair handle spikes from Gem, heated Star Wars themed cane handle from Grian.

Bursts into Disney songs at ANY reference he hears.

Jellie trained Katy Bee to carry a mini first aid box on her collar for Scar. ______________________________________________________________

Tango: Blaze-born

Raised by phoenixes.

Left home to be on his own. The portal he took to the overworld put him in a snow biome. Nearly froze before Zedaph found him.

Can actually hover, but usually forgets about the ability.

When needing in a tight space, will create a whisp of fire that he will then possess to fly into that space.

Cried for at least an hour whenever a Ravager died in DO2.

Freaked out when Pearl first tried to eat a red-stone torch and immediately taught her red-stone safety, as well as started using it. (Wants to be a good influence <3)

Still believes in Santa

Can play just about anything on kazoo.

Will NOT play Star Wars or Disney songs on the kazoo. ______________________________________________________________

Zedaph: Sheep hybrid.

Big Chappell Roan fan

Sunburns easily

Kicked out of a cult of lambs due to constantly calling the god they worshipped "Waiter" instead of "The one who waits".

Found Tango half frozen on a mountain. ______________________________________________________________

Impulse: Cast out from the nether realm for befriending too many humans.

Organizer of the Hermit Parent Club. Usually plans out field trips, pun offs, and when it's bring your kid to the server day.

Still has his first soup bowl of season 9.

Was standing right beside the cactus Skizz fell in when he was kicked out of heaven.

Helping Skizz out- "I'm an imp. My name's Impulse. What's your name, man?" ______________________________________________________________

Skizz: When meeting Impulse- "Mine's Skizzleman! I'm an Angel!"

Knew Impulse would be his best friend after that moment.

Can do a great Doodlebob impression

Cast out of heaven for being bad at making things. Not just alive things. All things.

The last straw for them was when he tried to make a Tasmanian devil. He did not know what a Tasmanian devil was. . . . He still does not know what a Tasmanian devil is.

When cast out was purposely thrown onto a cactus where he was found by Impulse. (They really didn't like his last creation) ______________________________________________________________

Joel: Hybrid forms- Wolf, Red Panda

Definitely NOT nervous around needles. Only babies, and Jimmy, are nervous around those.

Wears his Mazelean crown when he misses his friends in empires.

Constantly writes to Lizzie in whatever server she's on. Also keeps a small bottle of her perfume on his bedside table.

Can feel when another Life game is coming. (Sixth sense almost)

Has a dart board with Scott's face on it that he, and sometimes Pearl, use to prepare for the next games.

NOT scared of giant birds or any birds for that matter. That's for losers. And DIDN'T scream when he first saw Jimmy's canary wings. ______________________________________________________________

False: Eagle avian

Enjoys hunting rabbits/Joel in her free time.

Teases Mumbo about his crush on Hot Guy.

Has won countless rap battles

Can, in fact, smell fear ______________________________________________________________

Etho: Sings Barbie girl in the shower

Carries tools on him at all times

Keeps a Big Bro <3 bracelet from Gem in his vest pocket ______________________________________________________________

That's all for now. I have others; however, they were too long to be included in this post. I do intend to expand/story-fy a couple of these ones though, hopefully in the near future. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! <3

[byhees]

casual affection.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 700 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship — more

a/n. blank

heeseung

would help you dry your hair after a long day; it’d be the late hours of the night, and he’d stand by the edge of the bed, hairdryer in one hand, brush in another.

makes it a point to kiss you, on the lips, before you two part on your own ways in the early mornings; slips a little playful comment before seeing you off.

would often put an arm around your shoulder, lightly pulling you close to his side with a small smile that almost goes unnoticed.

regularly picks up your favourite snacks on the way home, to the point where the cashier at the convenience store recognises the usual.

jongseong

would learn the lyrics to your all-time favourite songs, so you two can sing them together as an impromptu karaoke session.

holds your hand in almost every situation, finding it comforting to intertwine fingers with you, hands moulding together like perfect puzzle pieces.

cooks two servings when making food, because he doesn’t want you to come home empty-stomached.

keeps an extra hoodie at the backseat of his car, because he knows of your habit of forgetting, and doesn’t want to see you cold on a chilly day.

jaeyun

would change the lyrics of a song, so that it says your name instead; finds your delayed reaction and realisation adorable.

leaves some of your favourite shirts of his aside, and comes up with silly excuses to let you keep them.

brushes stray strands of hair out of your face, and takes the opportunity to leave a peck on, either, your forehead or your lips.

always slips his heat pack in the pocket of your jacket, not wanting you to freeze in the particularly snowy weather.

sunghoon

would be your personal alarm, waking you up to prevent any oversleeping for important events; tells you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and ruffles your already tousled hair.

helps you put on a necklace; his hands leave feathery touches on your neck, and as he hooks the chain to the clasp, he has the cutest grin plastered on his face.

takes candid pictures of you when you’re in your element, and uses them as his lock screen.

would rub your back when you’re feeling down; additionally, he whispers sweet consolations and peppers your face with kisses.

seonwoo

would help you remove your makeup, and any large hair accessories, when you’re feeling tired from a long day; does so without any hesitation, despite being fatigued himself.

offers his shoulder for you to rest your head on; soft conversations as he gently caresses your palm, fiddling with your fingers.

draws a bath for you, and even prepares your favourite playlists.

gives you handmade gifts, even without a specific occasion; dedicates a good hour or two to folding origami pieces, and making cards.

jungwon

would send you heaps of pictures of his dog whenever you’re away, hoping that they’d serve as an energy boost for tiring days.

brings around a polaroid camera nearly everywhere he goes, because he loves snapping pictures of you; keeps his personal favourites at the back of his phone.

buys you flowers when you least expect it; always writes a short and sweet note with each ‘flower delivery’, something quirky like ‘if you were a flower, i would pick you, one thousand (and one) percent!’

a hand is always absentmindedly resting on your lower back, because he just likes being by your side.

riki

would tuck your blanket neatly around your body when it slides down, and press a kiss on your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.

hypes you up for even the small things, and is there 24/7 to support you; movie marathons and late-night talks under the covers afterwards to hear how things went.

lightly bumps your shoulder whenever you say something funny; it soon escalates to chaotic, yet unified, cackling and wheezing (but it’s so oddly comforting).

buries his face into the crook of your neck when hugging.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s]

Ghostface Choso

Edit: look at this beautiful piece of ghost face Choso. Please give the artist some love! https://aransmind.tumblr.com/

Yoooo I wrote this with the help of Deftones and a bit of experience

Ao3 link

I have serious brainrot about this man. He’s on my nails and I get to lick his face whenever I eat finger foods.

Part 2

NSFW under the cut! Lmk if you like it.

October always promises some great parties. And this year your friends swore to get you out and to at least one party in costume. It’s not that you weren’t into partying, it’s always the anxiety of dressing up that keeps you away from the Halloween parties.

Your phone dings interrupting your thoughts of worry on how to dress. It’s Shoko and the group chat going on about the party tomorrow. And of course they’ve already gotten you an accessory for the costume they want you in.

Utahime:

Just wear a white dress!

Shoko:

Yeah and make it hot

You roll your eyes at the text and look in your closet. There’s a light blue dress that’s nice and sparkly. Texting the group back: guys will light blue work? That’s all I have on short notice..

Utahime: perfect! I have your wings already 😇

Oh okay angel-devil most likely, you think to yourself. And pick out some white chunky platform sandals to go with it.

——————————

The next day rolls around and you slip in the outfit you’d picked out after sending a few pics for confirmation that the vibe was right. You finish your make up and throw your hair in a clip just as the car outside the window honks for you. Texting Utahime that you’ll be out in a sec, you grab your stuff and head out the door.

Walking up to the house party that looked like a club you could feel the music in the front yard. Giddy with excitement you follow your friends in. Apparently Shoko knew the house owners and got invited that way.

Making your way inside with the wings was a bit difficult. Luckily they were pretty small but with the amount of people there it was hard to move with the added accessory. Grabbing a hard lemonade before Shoko took them to the fridge you followed Utahime to the dance floor.

Placing your hands at her waist you move closer to dance and let loose. Dropping your shoulders and sipping on your drink before leaning your head back. Letting loose for a few songs before you notice there’s a hand sliding to your hip. Fuzzy brained from the heat and drink you let him dance behind you. His hands are warm and big. It’s turning you on just from the idea of the body that might match the hands resting on your dress. There is a barrier of your wings so you’re not too worried but you look back anyway. Ghost face is looking back at you. Leaning back you find his ear and ask “pull your mask up?” He shakes his head no. So you pull away teasing a little bit, mostly to see how much he wanted to be near you. A physical flirtation, a testing of waters.

His hands slide around your hips again so you turn fully to him. Pressing against his chest you reach up and prop his mask up on his head, revealing the most gorgeous man. Hark hair and dark eyes stare back at you. Gasping for a second before you regain your composure and throw a smirk on your face.

In his ear you ask “why didn’t you want the mask off? You’re really pretty”

Blushing, you watch him pull his mask on. “Dance with me?” He asks in your ear, the sound muffled by the mask. You smile and put your hands around his neck getting into the beat of the song. Your heart going a bit crazy knowing how attractive this guy is. Your fuzzy brain can’t help but take over your thoughts. Getting a little nasty in your head you shake it off.

A cool piece of glass breaks your mental spiral as it touches the hot skin of your back. Shoko hands you another bottle of hard lemonade and gets close to your ear. “Do you need saving?” She prods..

Shaking your head no you lean to her saying “no he’s hot and sweet so far”

Removing his mask fully he pulls Shoko over to him and hugs her.

“Oh shit Choso!” She bounces into his hug and returns to your side. “Okay he’s approved” she smirks after speaking lowly in your ear and smacks your ass lightly. Then his hand is back on your waist and mask is hanging loosely around his neck by the elastic. Two small buns of hair sit atop his head and bangs whisp over his forehead. Damn he’s pretty. And your fingers feel the muscles sliding under the fabric of his costume.

Leaning in you tell him your name and boldly kiss his cheek. It’s been forever since you were messy with a one night stand. Maybe this guy could be fun and Shoko seems to like him. Green flags so far make you press your body a bit closer to him.

“I’m Choso by the way” he says in a deep voice, hot breath fanning over your neck. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” You suggest leaning back to see his eyes. He nods and laces your fingers in his pulling you to the kitchen away from the music.

He grabs a beer from the fridge and asks “Do you want one?” You nod after looking at your empty bottle. He twists the cap off of both and leads you out to the back porch where tons more people are mingling around. His hand never leaves your hip as he guides you to a more open space.

“Hey” you say, meeting his gaze. He’s playing with one of the strings hanging from the side of your dress. “Hey” he replies and chuckles looking towards his feet.

“So how do you know Shoko?” You pry.

“Friend of a friend basically. What about you?”

“Friend from college” you start explaining “we’ve just stayed friends the last few years”

“Oh that’s cool. Do you know Gojo and Geto?” You shake your head no.

“Oh that’s whose house this is. I’m surprised Shoko never introduced you. They’re cool.”

“Oh I’ll ask her about it after this trust me” the end of your sentence fizzles into a giggle.

“Sooo what do you do for work?” He looks to you expectantly.

“I work a desk job for a manufacturing company. It’s super boring but like ultra stable. Plus my boss is really nice. What about you?”

“I own a gym actually” you bite back a smile at the realization.. that’s why he’s so built.

“Oh cool. You must stay active then” He nods in confirmation.

“But it is a lot of paperwork too. Can’t have you thinking I’m just a dumb jock”

“Dumb jocks don’t wear buns and dresses” you tease pulling at his costume.

“Oh this old thing?” He plays along and rests his elbow on the patio railing, leaning so he’s shorter than you now.

“So other than working out do you have any hobbies?” You ask Getting a little more comfy and leaning your butt against the railing.

“I game and have cats. Do cats count as an activity?” He looks for an answer.

“I’d say yes. I’m a cat person too.”

“And what about your hobbies outside your desk job?”

“Oh I paint and generally go where my mindless scrolling takes me. Gaming, reading, puzzles.. just whatever keeps me busy.” You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself.

“That’s fun! What kind of games?”

“I logged an embarrassing amount of hours in animal crossing a few years ago”

“Okay what do you consider embarrassing?” His brow raises skeptical of your answer.

“900 hours in less than a year…” you cover your face for a moment blushing.

“Holy shit” he laughs. “Yeah that’s insane. I bet your island was cool!”

“It was!”

The conversation lulls while you both sip your drink.

Standing to his full height Choso grabs your waist “do you want to go somewhere more private?”

“This isn’t?” You challenge.

“It is but I think everyone would appreciate us getting a room for things I want to do to you.”

Your stomach flips.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Your cheeks heat and heart flutters. You’ve been starved for this for months. He leans in closer, the heat of his palm seeping into your side. “I wanna see what you look like with my head between your legs”

“That can be arranged” you know the blush has creeped down to your chest. You pull him closer fisting the fabric of his costume. His hand glides to the back of your neck and he softly kisses your cheek. “So? Somewhere more private?” He repeats.

“What afraid of a little spectacle?” You lean in, nose brushing over his cheek and hot breaths mingling before either of you commit to this fully. He caves first placing a slow, closed mouth kiss to your lips. Slowly he slots your bottom lip between his and playfully bites at it before the kiss melts into an open mouth clash of tongues. The cool October air sending goosebumps over your skin and the warmth of Choso’s breath mixing with yours as you both pant and grab at each other. Turning into something else, so familiar but still new. His baby hairs falling at the back of his neck tickle your hand and you giggle into the kiss.

“Okay maybe getting a room isn’t a bad idea”

“We could go back to my place if you want” he curls the strings from your dress around his finger. “Is it close by?”

He peppers kisses on your neck and whispers that it is.

————————

Entering his apartment you take in the industrial type loft. It’s nothing fancy but it seems to fit him. A vintage red rug on the hardwood floors and dark walls paired with a shitty old velvet couch. You watch as a cat darts around to the corner and disappears into another room.

“Make yourself at home” his deep voice comes from behind you. “Thanks. These wings are cutting into me so bad” you discard the wings on the couch and Choso pulls the costume up over his head.

Oh fuck he’s hot. Your mouth waters at the lack of a shirt under his costume. Both of you barefoot on the plush rug, you close the distance between your bodies. His hands trace your hips and he presses his thumbs into the plush of your belly. Initiating a kiss that turns messy fast, tracing your tongue on his lower lip you feel his heart beat pick up. Sighing into each others mouths and melting into the new touches.

“You’re so sexy” he says pressing his forehead to yours. “Gonna let me do whatever I want?”

“Only if you promise to get me off”

“Oh multiple times” he pushes some stray bangs behind your ear.

“Big talk there mask man”

“It’s not just talk. Promise” he slips a finger to the edge of your panties. Teasingly pulling the fabric away from your skin. Gasping as the intimate contact you grab his biceps.

“Sensitive?” You just nod in response and hide your face in the crook of his neck. His hands find their home at your waist again. Choso slides a finger over your dress straps and pulls one off your shoulder. You start placing sweet small kisses to his neck. He returns the favor and places a few wet kisses to your chest. The teasing turns into a full make out session. He pulls you onto the couch and in his lap. Sliding the hem of your dress up so you comfortably straddle him. Worshiping every inch of exposed thigh.

“Do you do this often?” He questions.

“Not recently no” hesitating for a moment “I’m clean if that’s what your worried about”

Chuckling between kisses to your chest “No but it’s nice to know. I was just wondering if you’re slutty.. in the good way”

Laughing at the correction “I can be if you’re into it”

Dragging his teeth against your skin “I’m into it then”

“Noted” you lean into a kiss and press your self fully against him. You can feel the bulge in his pants already.

“Fuck” you pull away breathless from sucking down each others air. His hands guide your hips creating friction for the both of you. Kissing him again you fight over who gets to bite the others lip. He pulls yours in his mouth and sucks on it.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, finger tips gliding along the bare skin of his back. “Will you wear the mask while we fuck?”

Shock settles on his face then a grin. “Yes ma’am”

Teasingly, you drag your hips on him. Your folds spilling out of your thong from how hard you’re grinding on him. Cupping your ass, Choso stands up with you in his arms as he carries you to his bedroom. Tossing you on the bed before he hovers over you placing kisses to your chest and biting the flesh of your breast. Licking at every spot he bites leaving a small trail across your cleavage. He kisses you with an open mouthed kiss, tangling your tongues together while he pulls your dress up and over your head.

His lips immediately attach to your exposed nipple while he plays with the other. Sending shivers over your body and heat between your legs. He pulls the mask off his neck and throws it on the bed “for later” he says.

“First I gotta make good on a promise” lowering to his knees and placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. Sliding off your underwear leaving you fully exposed under him. Tension fills the room as he leans in closer to your clit, slowly dragging his tongue over the soft bud. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His tongue slowly drags over your slit sucking up the wetness already leaking from you. Then he proceeds to suck and lick your pussy with no regard for how wet his face and your thighs are. Pressing into you hard and flattening his tongue for more friction. Using your thighs and ass to lift you up off the bed so he has better access. Continuing his ministrations pulling out every ounce of pleasure he can. Soft moans slip from both of you. Lewd sounds come from between your legs and you cover your face in embarrassment. Someone you just met making you feel SO good. The thought sends shivers through your body. You grab each of his buns in one hand and rut yourself against his face. Panting at the exertion, filthy things leave your lips.

“God Choso yes”

He slides a finger inside you but never lets his lips leave your clit. Even as you reach overstimulation and try to pull away he pulls you closer with one hand. Riding out your high on his finger.

“Good girl” he praises as his shorts hit the floor. Joining you on the bed he kisses you and pulls you closer. You drape a leg lazily over his waist and realize he’s fully naked. And erect. Holy shit. Hes so pretty.. even his dick is pretty. Toying with it, your thumb circles around the tip as you greedily slide it through your folds.

“I’m on the pill .. so we can do whatever you want”

He covers his face with a large palm. “Fuck me” giggling softly you reply “gladly”

He goes to grab the mask off the bed but you stop him. “I wanna see your face for a bit. Please” He smirks and nods, placing the mask close by. Sitting up on his knees, he glides his dick on your cunt and teases your slit and folds. Heat pooling in your abdomen. He pushes his tip in and spits on where you’re connected. Throwing his head back he hooks your legs over his thighs, pushing fully inside of you. A few thrusts and he’s sweating. Looking like a man starved for pussy.

He grabs the mask and pulls it over his face while your eyes are screwed shut. Fucking into you harder now and lifting you off the bed. His nails dig into your hips and you gasp but definitely get wetter at the sight of the mask. You grasp his sides, holding on as he roughly pushes into you over and over. He flips you over and fully pushes inside you slowly before grasping all your hair in one hand. Forcing you to look over your shoulder at the body of a god screwing you. A hand slides up your back and causes heat to pool in your belly at the tenderness.

Panting, your hands fist the sheets for purchase. He catches on that you want more and he pulls all the way out before slamming back in. Throwing his head back in pleasure as his cock drags against your walls, pulling out again. Taking off the mask you see sweat beading on his face.

“God damn you feel so good” wimpers leave your lips as he’s pushing and pulling your body as he wants.

Flipping you over again he spits where you’re connected. Playing with your clit while dragging his dick in and out of you until you’re cumming on him. He leans over and cups your shoulders while panting into your ear. Orgasms washing over both of you. He holds you as you both come down. Breathing heavily while your eyes glaze over, you body humming with contentment.

Playing with his hair you whisper into his ear “that was incredible”

“Yeah? if you stay the night I’ll do it again”

Smiling you kiss his cheek and agree.

Part 2