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delphi-shield · 8 months ago

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kiss it better ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Jill Valentine x Reader Smut / MDLG mdni wc: ~5.6k i don't have to explain myself, so i won't. 🙂‍↕️ dividers by @/adornedwithlight.

summary: Jill's got reservations about this whole 'mommy' thing. She's not the maternal type - but for you, she can try.

content: mommy dom!Jill, little!reader, afab!reader, boot riding, dumbification, extensive depiction of cgl dynamics/lifestyle, humiliation, finger-sucking, spit, fingering, titsucking, aftercare, use of sippy cups/coloring book/the word 'stuffies', ruined orgasm, orgasm denial, implied age gap (di era jill, mid-late 20s+ reader).

In hindsight, the sippy cup should have been the first red flag.

Jill didn’t even bat an eye when you bought it. You'd tucked it to the back of the belt during a grocery trip, hiding it amidst the other canned goods, tried your damnedest to distract her while the cashier rang it up. She didn't know how to break it to you that she had seen you pick it out. She'd watched you deliberate between pink or green - strawberries or watermelon - before settling on pink.

You'd said you were going to look at candles - probably the truth, because you'd put one in the cart, too. Jill had doubled back to pick up laundry detergent and had caught you lingering in the kids aisle. She had always been able to pick you out of a crowd, had a sixth sense for where you were, hand practically magnetized to the small of your back. You looked so focused alone in that aisle that she had swallowed the call of your name and marched back to the cart.

So yes, she’d glossed over the (rather obvious) way you had tried to hide the purchase from her. That was as far as she was letting it go, though. Once you got home, you tried to bury it behind all the coffee mugs. Weird, she thought. You just bought the goddamn thing. You'd been talking about wanting a water bottle with a straw for a full month. It would be out of sight out of mind if you put it way back there, eaten up by the cabinet.

You shuffled away to put up the rest of the groceries and Jill plucked the cup from the back. She put the pink plastic front and center, right next to the rest of the glassware, as though it belonged there.

“That’ll cut down on our carpet cleaning,” she had even joked when she heard you traipsing back in.

A beat. She turns to look at you over her shoulder, brow raised. You look like a deer caught in floodlights, waiting to be gunned down. It took a moment for you to dig your voice up from the pit of your stomach.

“I know. All the regular ones didn't have the latching lid. Like, I need that anti-spill technology. I have to be baby-proofed.”

Yeah. It was a little out of place that you felt the need to justify the cup to her. Again - in hindsight, maybe it was a little odd. Surely there had been a water bottle that wasn’t pink and covered in cute little strawberries, but you were an adult. You made your own money. If you wanted the sippy cup with the strawberries on it, then you could have it. She wasn't about to police your tastes. After all, at a certain point of maturity you started to realize that the difference between kid stuff and adult stuff was just marketing. So many 'kid' versions of things were just the same as their adult counterparts. Covered in smiling bunnies and rainbows, maybe, but functionally the same item.

Suffice it to say, Jill didn't give two shits what stuff you bought for yourself. You were prone to spilling drinks, so the latching lid excuse made sense. Her singular complaint was the size. As your designated drink-getter, her trips had doubled. (She'd found some online in a bigger size, all muted, muddy colors, no cartoon strawberries. “Anti-spill technology,” she'd pointed out. You had shrugged, sipping at your little drink. It was the perfect size for one bottle of your favorite apple juice. That, she couldn't deny.)

She'd been unintentionally feeding into your preferred lifestyle the whole time, buying you the cutesy set of stickers for your scrapbook, picking up glittery markers when she saw them on sale.

The coloring books certainly weren't a bridge too far. You wanted to turn your brain off after a long week at work. That was all, really. Jill hadn’t asked for an explanation - she had asked which ones you liked, that she might pick one out for you. The first few she chosen had been branded 'adult coloring books' but again - what was the difference, other than subject matter and the complexity of some of them? You'd dutifully sat next to her during movie nights and colored regardless of difficulty. Your hand-eye coordination was developed, see? Made staying in the lines so much easier. And the colors you picked out - they don't (usually) clash. That all ties back to that developed eye for style.

‘Babydoll’ might not have been the best choice of pet names for you, but it had slipped out. It felt right, more sincere than ‘dear’ or ‘babe’. If she had known she was unintentionally enabling you, sending the little plastic gears in your head grinding to a halt, she might have picked something different.

The first time she'd said it, you'd given her a blank look. Jill had sworn not to say it again, already marking that off the list of options, but your response had been quick.

“No–” you reeled yourself in, a little too forceful there. Like a kid stomping their feet. “No, it's okay. I like it.”

How was she supposed to know that you had dubbed her ‘mommy’ in your internal monologue? That ‘babydoll’ did nothing but feed into your perception of her?

After it had all come out, after your first little slip-up that had sent both of you hurtling headlong into a series of changes in your lifestyle, you'd confessed that you had been thinking of her this way since you had moved in. Jill had been synonymous with ‘mommy’ since your possessions had spilled from the open mouth of the U-Haul and flooded her apartment. Her sparse, curated collection of decorations had been swallowed up in a wash of stuffed animals and plush blankets, and she had done nothing to stem the tide. Hell, she’d piled more on. Bought you stuffed animals from boutiques, airport giftshops, gas stations - anywhere, so long as it made her think of you.

Jill hadn’t thought twice about the stuffies. If most of her keepsakes hadn’t been obliterated via air strike, courtesy of the U.S.A. back in 1998, she’d probably have a collection of decor to contend with yours. Maybe less of the fuzzy variety, but she understood the appeal. She had never been one to get jealous of an inanimate object. If you wanted to lay your head on her lap, favorite stuffed animal coiled tight in your arms, then she had no objection. She’d willingly cocooned you in the fluffiest blanket within reach, her hand settling at the bend of your waist.

So, the stuffed animals? Totally normal. The sleepy, nonsensical babbles you’d catch from time to time during a night in, when it was just the two of you? She didn’t think twice. That had hardly been an adjustment.

Jill felt a little slow for not catching on before you let it slip. There had been so many signs. Piles of evidence all around her, some of which she had contributed to. She must be getting lax as the years wear on. Normally, she's sharp as can be. She'd know things about you before you did.

You’d been riding her boot the first time you said it. Jill had been busy - too busy to spend a couple hours folding you in half and fucking you to sleep, she told you. You'd dragged yourself into her office in your barely-there shorts, nipples pert and peaking the flimsy fabric of your tank top. Wait a minute - not your tank top. Hers. An old, faded Depeche Mode tank, white, damn near see-through.

She kept track of you in her peripheral as you dragged your bean bag chair (she'd offered to get you a real chair, something with back support, but you'd insisted; when you hit thirty, she’ll be able to gloat) right up next to hers, and dropped into it. Foosh. Makes your tits bounce when you plop down like that. That's probably why you did it.

She scooted forward in her chair, flipping the armrest up and kicking one leg out. Your eyes lit with glee. Horny little goblin. You moved to straddle her thigh, hands braced on her knee while you wobbled into position.

“Ah-ah.” Jill didn’t take her eyes from the screen. She kept hammering away at her report, the deadline looming. She stopped at a paragraph break to snap her fingers twice, pointing to the floor. “Down.”

You’d cratered to your knees without so much a second thought. See? Obedience wasn’t new to you. How was she supposed to know it was a different sort of devotion, different from the submission she was used to?

Something warm curls around her ankle - your hand, she realizes with a glance. Jill sighs. She hadn’t said not to touch. It’s difficult to be mad at the way your thumb circles her calf, especially for a command she hadn’t issued. Jill’s chair creaks backwards, her hands stilling on the keyboard. Your chin settles on her knee, eyes big and pleading for her touch.

Jill folds her arms under her chest. Your eyes track the way her chest moves. It's almost cartoonish - she half expects your tongue to loll out of your mouth.

“Get on.” Jill wiggles her boot back and forth. Your head tips to the side, confusion drawing your brows up. “On my boot, babydoll.”

She sees it - the brief flash where you’re drawn out of play time. The quickest twist of annoyance in your pout. How many times did you have to tell her to stop wearing her shoes inside? Especially her work boots, crusted with mud and shit and god knows what else. But if you’re worried about that then you’re too horny to protest. Her babydoll comes back in another blink, pressing your cunt down onto her steel toe.

There you go. Jill starts typing again and you get the hint. You're independent enough that you don't need her direction at every turn. Thank god - she'd never get anything done if you couldn't find a rhythm on your own, if you couldn't use whatever part of her body she dictated to get yourself off.

It doesn't take long for you to start whimpering. Your arms wind around her leg, chest pressed tight to her while you grind your drippy pussy against her. You use her body as leverage to drag yourself back and forth. Poor baby. Reduced to humping her leg like a damn dog.

Your pretty little whimpers come quicker, louder. Jill's fingers scrape against your scalp, urging your head upwards. She pools spit at the tip of her tongue, considers dripping it into you. Your mouth is popped open for her already, moans punctuating every push of your hips.

Any thought of tormenting you with the anticipation disappears when she sees you pinch your nipple, hips circling against the toe of her boot frantically. Your eyes flutter, thighs pulsing, so close–

“Stop.”

Jill rips her boot away for you. You plop against the floor, whining at the loss. Your hand flies to your pussy, rubbing your clit desperately through your shorts.

“I said stop,” Jill grinds out.

Her hand grips your jaw, fingers curling. You pull your hands away from yourself, fingers glistening when you lay them flat against the tops of your thighs. A whine squeaks out of you. Jill’s eyes narrow.

“Open,” she demands. Your mouth pops open obediently. When Jill gives you a directive, you follow it. Jump— how high? Cum— how hard?

Look at you - perfect little slut, tongue plopped out for her. She spits a fat glob of spit dead center and drops your jaw.

“Swallow.” It’s said carelessly. She looks away from you as if uninterested in you display. Her clit throbs in time with her heartbeat. Perfect girl, perfect, trained little–

You swallow. From the edges of her vision, she sees you stick your tongue back out as proof. “Thank you, mommy.”

The air in the room shifts, suddenly colder. Her skin feels as though it’s been pulled taut. Confusion swirls with her arousal. You said ma’am. Surely you said ma’am.

“What?” She blurts out, hands at a full rest on her keyboard.

You’ve still got that floaty, airy look about you. Jill wonders if it’s even possible to get a straight answer out of you right now.

“Thank you?” You repeat, unsure yourself. You blink quickly. She can pinpoint the moment you come back into your body, shoulders tensing, eyes widening, skirting away from her. “Uh– ma’am?”

Nice try. Not buying it.

“Did you call me mommy?”

Jill will probably regret the way she had spat that out until the day she died. It hadn’t been worth seeing the crushed look on your face, the shame flushed through you in a full-body shudder. In the moment, though, she can’t deny the pulse of disgust.

That night had ended on unsteady footing. She’d asked you not to call her that. You’d apologized again and again throughout the conversation, set her teeth on edge with how small you’d made yourself. It felt worse, seeing you slink out of her office, knowing you were going to curl up in bed - knowing you’d pretend to be asleep when she came in to check on you a few minutes later.

She had already been doing this for you, she realized. The new context was uncomfortable. She had sat in that feeling for a few days, tried to fall back into the patterns of your relationship without thinking of them these new, strained terms. Despite reassurances, she’d watched you shove away the things that had made you so comfortable.

No more coloring books - not in front of her at least. You’d left a stray marker lying out when you scrambled to hide the evidence of your coloring from her. Your sippy cup had been pushed to the back of the cabinet again, no matter how many times she’d moved it back to the front.

The final straw was when you’d started packing your stuffed animals away.

She could have been gentler about the whole thing, admittedly, but it had made her so goddamn angry to see you shove away things that made you happy. You had misunderstood her - or she hadn’t communicated clearly, or – or something.

“Quit,” she demands, pulling the stuffies from their cardboard prison. She set them firmly back on your side of the bed (never tossing - you’d told her before, tossing them was mean). “Stop doing this shit, babe. You don’t have to quit doing stuff you like.”

“But you don’t like it.”

“I never said that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“No, I–” Jill pinches the bridge of her nose. This is going nowhere, round and round in circles. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slow.

“I don’t want it in the bedroom.”

“Then where do you want them?”

“Not the– the stuffed animals can stay. Okay? I just don’t like it when we’re having sex. The ‘mommy’ stuff. But you– I want you to be how you want to be with me. We were already doing the little stuff before. Right?” Jill’s hand cups your cheek, urges you to keep looking at her. There’s no hiding from this, not from her.

You still struggle to meet her eyes. She can tell you’ve picked a spot over her shoulder, staring past her. She ducks her head, puts herself into your vision.

“...Kinda. Yeah.”

“Then we can keep doing that.” Her answer is firm. She’s spent hours thinking about this, analyzing where her discomfort came from, why it hit her so goddamn hard – how to ensure you never felt so rejected by her again. The discomfort lingers, smaller than before. Dwarfed by how greatly she misses having you next to her and comfortable. There had been an openness that she had stolen from you. “...Just don’t call me mommy when you’re getting off on my boot anymore, okay? I’m not ready for that.”

In time, the discomfort faded. Having you next to her at the end of a hard week, eyes wide and vulnerable, trusting her completely to take care of her - it became a little intoxicating. Her boundaries expanded, pushed farther and farther from where they had started as she slipped back into routine.

It surprises her how well she takes to it. Jill hasn't got much in the way of maternal instincts. She's good with dogs, though, and kids and dogs both need discipline. It's the same thing, right?

No. Not at all. But you're not really a kid. Your real mom did all the hard work, and now Jill gets to sweep in and have all the fun. Sit. Roll over. Speak. You're good at those.

Stay, not so much. She knows she’s got you in the right headspace when you won't stop wiggling. Jill's grown accustomed to slinging an arm across your stomach when she buries her face in your pussy. The squirming never ends, and pressing your hips into the mattress had only ever made you curl upwards, arms bracketing her head, shoving her face into your cunt.

The real danger is letting you sit on her face while you're like this. You squirm and buck, squeal out your pleasure while she laps at you. She rocks her head from side to side, her nose bumping against your pudgy clit. The way you thrust down into her - christ, you’re going to send her to the hospital one day.

That was how it had been the first time Jill had opened up the floodgates, the first time she’d let these little games back into your bedroom.

Her hands palm the globes of your ass, spreading you open for her tongue. She keeps you nice and tight against her face, her neck craned at an angle that would hurt later. A problem for tomorrow. Today’s problem is that you keep biting your knuckle, tucking those pretty little sounds away from her.

Jill swats your ass, quick, sharp. She pulled away only far enough to reprimand you – “Don’t hide from mommy” – before she wrapped her lips around your clit and churned her tongue against you, again and again.

You let out a surprised squeak, garbled behind your fist. Your hips shot forward, pressing her face into the mattress, suffocating her with your cunt. Jill moaned, gripped you tighter, held you to her face and tongue-fucked you through an orgasm that made your spine twist, your thighs clamp tight around her head.

Jesus Christ - that’s what she’d been missing out on? All because she’d been too squeamish about a title?

That was all it took to convince herself that she was fine with it, really. Jill helped you roll off of her. She lowered you back to the mattress as if you were a priceless, fragile little thing. The urge to care for you, to pamper you, had never been stronger. You’d nearly had to force her to quit flitting around you. It took insisting that you needed to cuddle for her to stop, for her to let you settle against her.

“I think you broke my nose,” Jill teases.

“Stop.” You hide your face in the top sheet, but she hears you bite off a giggle. Her hands float to your sides, long digits brushing along the curve of your ribs, snaking up your stomach to cup your breasts. She rolls them in her palms - together, then apart, thumbs flicking over your nipples. Languid, no heat behind it. No need for another round, not yet, but she wants to appreciate the art before her.

“I'm serious.” Jill turns her head to the side. Her profile silhouettes in the lamplight.

She's the kind of woman they make statues of. Her nose cuts a proud shape from the light, the slope of her brow relaxed only here in your bedroom. It occurs to you to trail a finger along contour of her face and, uninhibited, you do. Jill holds still for you, let’s you marvel at the work before your eyes. Her nose has been broken before - not by your weight, but by fists. Her throat bobs as you trail a knuckle down her chin, against the delicate skin of her neck, childish in your wonder.

Jill still had her boundaries, the same as you had yours.

Your appreciation is every bit grown. You tuck yourself against her side, kiss along her jaw until you reach her lips. You mutter your ‘I love you’ against her there. She can be ‘mommy’, she realizes. Just for you, just within your home.

No disciplinarian stuff, not while you're acting all little. It makes her feel grimy. You don't get in trouble for little stuff, not for leaving your coloring book out or for flooding the living room with stuffies while she's away. You do get in trouble being an absolute brat and pawing at her leg while she's in the middle of a meeting.

That had been fun. You'd been all curled up in your beanbag chair, tucked out of frame while Jill listened in on the eastern European division’s quarterly report. Evidently, reduction in bioterrorism incidents weren't thrilling enough for you. She’d popped her leg out to the side, wiggled her boot at you - a command you knew well enough by then.

What kind of mommy makes her baby girl ride her boot? A strict one. It had always been a favorite punishment, denying you her touch and making you get yourself off however she dictated. But when you were all soft and malleable? Desperate for her attention, for her touch? Now it has her soaking herself. An added, unexpected side effect? You'd stopped nagging her to take her boots off as much.

On the other hand, you staunchly refused for this to be a 24/7 arrangement. You were an adult. You contributed to the house, had goals and ambitions just as much as she did. As happy as Jill was to pamper you, to be your mommy when you needed it, she wasn't ever to hold that over your head.

Once, she'd dared to tease you in the middle of a discussion about utilities - gas bill's so high 'cause my babydoll like the house too warm - and the look you'd given her had been enough to make her backtrack immediately. You hadn't even been willing to entertain the notion that she might treat you as less capable, less of an equal partner just because you enjoyed her care.

That had been a rocky discussion.

“I don't want to do this with you if you're just going to think less of me for it.”

Christ, she wants to pull her hair out, stuff her words back into her mouth and just pay the goddamn gas bill. It wasn't like you couldn't afford it.

“I don't think less of you.”

“Then don't say stuff like that.”

“Babe, you're kind of overreacting.”

Your eyes harden. Obviously, that hadn't been the right thing to say either.

She'd nearly lost you in that conversation. Not entirely, not your whole relationship - just this soft, needy part that craves a softer touch, a nurturing hand. Maybe a better, more experienced mommy would have stepped it back better, assured you that wasn't what she meant. But Jill's not built for this, not naturally.

It's your thing. She's just indulging you.

She gathers up your coloring books, piling them neatly on the coffee table. She takes a minute to thumb through them, to admire the work you'd done that evening. Spooky Cutie, Gummy Bear World, the more complicated dinosaur coloring book from the Smithsonian. You'd been rotating - proudly showing her your work from page to page, polling her on what color you should use from time to time. One moment it was a bear and a cat cooking stew together in a simplified, cutesy kitchen. The broth was dark brown because mommy had decided they were having beef stew, not chicken and dumplings.

The next, you were asking for her favorite dinosaur, then her second favorite, then her third, and flipping through your book to find any one of them. She'd never seen a more elaborate backdrop for a triceratops. You'd dutifully laid out every shade of green you had and set to work on the foliage. Halfway through the movie she realized she'd missed a plot point, too busy checking in on your coloring.

It's not her thing. She just ended up at a craft store one day for something completely different. It was a good deal on markers, honest. Yeah. The deal had been on the ones that were high-end, that had the shades of green you needed to really make that cretaceous-era flora pop.

Jill is so fucked.

Right. Definitely just your thing.

She's above this. Keeps her personal life and her professional life neatly separated, despite the Redfield's best efforts. Claire knows she has a serious girlfriend. She'd done the detective work on Jill's limited social media, pored over new friends and comments like it was her job.

(“I had in-flight wi-fi.” Never a sentence you want to hear Claire Redfield say.

“So you wasted your time stalking me online?”

Claire shrugs. “Your girlfriend posts a lot and she likes everything you post. It wasn't hard to figure it out. She seems nice. Not subtle, but, you know – nice.”)

If Claire knows, then Chris knows. For years he's maintained that he hates gossip, but he's always suspiciously well-informed.

So when Chris sets a big hand on her shoulder and asks how the detective work is going, the appropriate answer should be ‘fine’ or ‘I'm going to blow my brains out if I have to dig through another financial record’. It should not be:

“Mommy's tired.”

Silence. God, she can't have said that. That wasn't what came out of her mouth, surely. She just said ‘I'm tired’, right?

Jill looks up at Chris. His eyebrows are in the fucking stratosphere. Before she can tell him not to say a goddamn word, his face splits into a grin.

“Does mommy want a coffee?”

“I'm reporting you to HR.”

Chris laughs, full-bodied, the sound bursting from his chest. He looks years younger in that moment, and when she huffs a laugh she wonders if she does too. All of that gets wiped away when she remembers how utterly fucked she is. Her cover is blown, her personal life finally hemorrhaged into the office.

“I'm reporting you to HR,” he counters. He swings himself into the chair opposite her desk. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Fuck you.”

“Not if I have to call you mommy.”

Jill’s more than a little pent up when she kicks the door closed that evening. You turn your head, hands plunged in the basin of the sink. Domestic, homey - not quite her babydoll, but her girlfriend.

As you can imagine, the rest of the day was a nightmare. Chris didn’t know how to let a joke die, but at least he had the sense to keep it between the two of them.

She can change that.

“How was work?” You greet.

“You got me in trouble today.”

Confusion clouds your eyes. You try to turn from the sink, but Jill's arms cage you in. She's not a tall woman, but it's never stopped her from being imposing. She wedges her knee between your legs and lifts, pressing against your cunt. The heat pouring through you short circuits your brain, leaves all your intelligible thoughts fizzling out of your mouth in a confused heap.

“Huh?” Is what you finally manage to muster.

Jill snorts. Very intelligent. Her hands grip your hips. She turns you to face her, presses you down against her thigh, rocks your hips back and forth for you until you get the picture. Your movements are slower, uncertain. She has to battle the urge to force your movements quicker. Patience. She can rip the pleasure from you later.

Her mouth latches onto your neck, open-mouthed kisses pressed against your skin again and again, your pulse quick and unsteady under her lips. Your hands hover inches over her sides, water dripping from your fingertips, iridescent suds drying against your skin. You're not going back to the dishes, not if she can help it; leave them to soak in the sink.

Jill shifts a hand under your waistband, fingers ghosting just above your panties. A shudder rattles down your spine, stomach rolling against her hand. She slips her other hand up your front, ghosting between your breasts. Her knuckles catch under your chin.

“Everyone knows, babydoll.”

It's cute, watching you try to put the pieces together. Your poor little brain is frying and she still turns up the temperature on you. She shifts her leg away to palm your cunt through your panties. Goddamn, you may as well be molten heat at this point. Won't be much longer before she has you dripping into her palm.

It takes all her restraint not to shove your panties to the side and plunge her fingers into your needy little pussy then and there. Patience will make it sweeter, wetter, make you cling to her shoulders, clamp around her so tightly she loses circulation.

Her hand moves from your chin the moment you start forming a question. She presses her middle and ring finger to the seam of your lips and you open before she can so much as muster the first syllable. She chuckles, derisive. Your tongue swirls around her, laving against the pads of her fingers. Dutiful, obedient, her perfect little babydoll lapping at her skin.

You suckle, sloppy wet noise spilling from your mouth. A rush of love hits Jill square in the chest. It drops, settles in her gut right next to the need to claim.

“Everyone knows you need mommy to take care of you,” she coos, mocking. You squirm, something between fear and arousal sparking in your eyes. You suck harder. Definitely arousal.

It’s easy to walk you over to the counter, hips pressed tight to yours. She lets you suck at her fingers as long as she can before she needs that hand to pick you up and drop you on the countertop. Jill shoves your shorts down, tugs your panties to the side. Her spit-slick fingers trail along your slit. You shuffle down, greedy for more of her touch. Her poor baby, alone all day - and already so wet for her.

You suck her fingers in greedily. Her hand presses at your hip, a silent urge for you to stay still, to let her prep you. You can get so ahead of yourself, she knows - but she’ll take care of you. Jill’s mouth latches onto your neck. She only detaches to shuck your t-shirt up and off.

Your legs latch over her hips, trapping her hand between your bodies. Greedy little girl, taking more than she wanted to give. Jill can’t be angry about it, not now. She pumps her fingers into you steadily. Her mouth trails down to your chest, lips latching onto your nipple.

“Take it, babydoll, there you go – take it for me.” Her breath fans against your breast. She buries her face between them, moans against your sternum. Your back arches, tits pressing into her. Your arms press your tits together around her head, smothering her, and her pussy clenches around nothing.

Jill's fingers drill into you, grind right up against that spot that makes you squirm. She could find it blindfolded. No more long, slow-strokes with her thick fingers. Hard, deep, just how you need, thumb rubbing your clit.

Fuck - you must need this as badly as she does. You snap after a few more strokes, moan strangled and high. Your chest arches, your hands flying into her hair, holding her tight to your tits.

“Good girl, perfect girl for mommy– gonna have you cumming all night.” Promises seared into your skin just before her mouth latches above your breast, sucks a bruise into your skin.

Your hand pushes at her wrist, babbling about too much. Jill nearly goddamn growls, as if you’re trying to take her favorite toy away. Her thumb slows against your clit, fingers drawing languidly out of you. One last pump for good measure, just to watch your legs twitch.

Her cheek rests against your chest, rising and falling with your breaths.. She watches you recover with half-lidded eyes.

“Do– do people really know?” You ask once you’ve managed to regain the ability for language processing.

Jill pouts. Clearly she hasn’t fucked you good enough if you’re still worried about that. She shifts to grip your hips, tugging you the the edge of the counter. She cants her hips up, trying to fit them flush with yours. Promises for later.

“Just Chris.” You groan. Honestly, it could be way worse. You’re overreacting. She knows better than to say that out loud now. “He’s not gonna tell anyone.”

“Not even his sister?”

Jill hesitates. She steps back from the counter, helps your newborn deer legs find their foot on the floor. She thumbs the button of her jeans open, stumbling out of them while she helps you over to the couch. You’re easy to position like this, malleable to her wants. Just how you both like it. Jill swats your ass - playful, not punishing.

“You worry too much. They’re not gonna care.”

“What if I care?”

Jill sinks to the floor in front of you, guiding your legs up to her shoulders. She kisses her way up your sweat-slick skin, savoring the taste on her tongue on her way to your core.

“Just let mommy kiss it all better.”

#jill valentine x reader #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x you #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfic #resident evil imagine

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darsynia · 6 months ago

Note

Steve and Avenger!Reader going to a Christmas Market please! 🥰 Can be any sort of relationship but wouldn't mind a Christmas Market proposal...

Thank you so much, this is perfect for both @buck-star's fluffy winter event (Christmas Market) and Day 1 of @the-slumberparty's December Daze: (let me dust the snow off your coat/hat/shoulder)

Words/Warnings: 2,315 / tooth-rotting fluff

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS | BUCKY BARNES

Don’t Mind If I Do

“Even North Carolina is freezing cold this morning, I checked. Trust me, this will be worth it.”

You frown in your perfect blanket cocoon. “All right, I’ll be out front by 8. And I’m cranking the heat in my rooms to 74 while I do it, just so I’ll be in a nicer mood for you!”

“You won’t regret it, sweetheart.”

With that, the two of you hang up, and you tap the + icon multiple times in the app that controls the heating in your suite. The Avengers Compound isn’t much to look at from the outside, but they make up for that in amenities. The only catch is, the suites are much too small to share with anyone. Despite your year-long committed relationship, you and Steve haven’t been able to truly ‘sleep over’ or spend couples time comfortably while stationed here. His rental apartment in NYC is lovely, and you’ve spent time together there, but both of you tend to be work-oriented. You’ve made do with what you have, even when that means sometimes cramming into Steve’s twin sized, extra-long bed here at the Compound.

Besides, you remind yourself as you rush through your morning routine, Steve Rogers isn’t the ‘shack up’ type, so it’s not like you’d be sharing an apartment if one were available. Still, it feels wrong to wake up without his warm, strong body next to yours on a cold day like this.

Steve had told you to dress for being outside, so after pulling on a thick pair of socks and lacing up your hiking boots, you don a knitted hat and shrug on a winter coat over your sweater. You meet up with Steve in the atrium of the building, feeling that familiar flush when he turns and lights up to see you.

“Oh perfect, you look nice and warm,” Steve says, quickly adding, “--and beautiful too. Very.”

He always leads with the truth, but as a boyfriend, he’s made you feel lovely enough for a superhero, leading to this in-joke of adding that compliment as an afterthought. You know him enough now to recognize when he thinks the second part first, and the face he’d made after turning around tells you this is one of those days.

“Are any of those pre-requisites for your secret Saturday morning outing?”

“Two of those are permanent, but yes, being warm will help,” he says, holding out a bare hand for you to take.

Inwardly grinning, you start to slip off your own glove, then pause. “Exactly how cold is it in North Carolina versus here? Do I need to grab a scarf?” Before working with the Avengers, you’d been stationed at Fort Liberty, so the climate difference between that and upstate New York had taken a little getting used to.

Steve takes your glove, tucks it into your pocket (being sure to crowd close enough to blatantly smell your hair), and then takes your bare hand in his bare hand to walk out into the brisk December air. It’s cold.

“At least ten degrees warmer than this, but I’d be happy to offer my arm as a scarf,” he says, squeezing your hand as you wend your way through the parked cars.

“You’re ten times better looking than all of my scarves, so I think I win!”

The drive is cozy with the heat on and an oldies Christmas station crooning the classics. After almost a half hour of light conversation and heavy exchanged glances, Steve pulls into a charming neighborhood decked to the rafters with holiday cheer. You peer out the windows, trying to figure out the plan. Are there sleigh-hay rides? An ice skating rink? Maybe a holiday quilt show set up in an 18th century church somewhere? You’re so caught up by the possibilities that you miss the instructions Steve gets from a woman wearing a high-vis jacket and Santa hat until the car parks, and he turns it off.

There’s something almost ceremonial about the way your boyfriend pats each of his warm trenchcoat’s pockets to find his gloves before pulling them on and flexing his hands. It’s captivating, not dissimilar to the way he girds himself for battle (whether physically or morally, you’ve noticed).

“You see my hat anywhere?” he asks, finally turning to look at you.

“Crap. I might have sat on it,” you realize.

Steve grins. “Well, it’ll be warm.”

You both get out of the car, and Steve dons his pre-warmed hat before gesturing toward the city center a few blocks away. “Christmas market.”

If your life was a film, that’s where either the Hallelujah Chorus or a full-on tire screech would have happened, but as it is, you fall sideways into him and catch yourself on his lapel, looking up at him with wide, delighted eyes.

“You promise? Oh God, that was way too Hallmark of me, I’m sorry-- but… you promise?” you ask, going through three vastly different facial expressions in the process.

“I promise,” Steve says, taking your hand in his, then lifting both to kiss the back of yours.

Christmas markets had been a staple of your childhood, and your family used to travel pretty far afield to see new and favorite ones. As your family’s circumstances had changed, those trips had dwindled, and by the time you were out of high school, they were a treasured memory of a no-longer-possible past. The years since then have mostly involved you throwing yourself into your work, becoming the kind of person soldiers and civilians alike can trust and rely on. If you’re honest, your time with the Avengers has been more fulfilling than even those precious school years of summer beaches, birthday parties, and chilly strolls through magical small-town holiday displays.

Part of that is Steve, a genuine hero and painfully good man who somehow seems to love you almost as much as you love him. Since the first moment you met he’s held out his hand for you in support. He’s a teammate, a challenger, a role model, and honestly? A partner.

“Snow! Look at that!” You can hear the smile in his voice. Light, gentle flurries have started to drift down just as you visit the first festive stall. It’s perfect timing, since some of the crafts on display are delicate handmade snowflake ornaments. “If you’ve got an ‘in’ with the weather, sir, I’d love to learn your secrets,” Steve jokes with the owner.

“It snows for you, to make perfect day for you and your wife!” the elderly man says with a beatific expression. “Please, you must take one for your tree at home.”

The two of you have two separate small trees, a result made necessary by the size of your living spaces at the Compound. You can see Steve tense up, clearly uncomfortable with the hinted, benign falsehood.

“Oh, but I must have both of these, too! How much?” you rush to say, pulling out your wallet and holding them up next to the one the owner pressed into Steve’s hand. It feels like your responsibility to meet the men in the middle.

“This is so we can see them from all angles, you understand,” Steve says.

“Of course!” the man says, a secretive smile playing on his lips. “Three is a good number, and I wish you a successful day!”

Steve’s cheeks have a distinct pinkish tinge to them for the next set of booths, but you avoid teasing him about it. This is not the first time someone’s misidentified the two of you as married, and you’ve always tread very carefully during those moments. Have you dreamed about marrying Steve Rogers? God, yes. You’d never say anything though. Proposing to Captain America is almost a national sport, something you’ve witnessed firsthand. Heck, you wouldn’t be surprised if he rejected you out of habit if you tried proposing.

It does look like you’ll both get to dodge your more famous secondary identities today. A lot of that is thanks to Tony’s fleet of look-alike cars, his insane security for the whole campus, and the way Steve can somehow dress and look like a regular, if burly country guy. However it’s happened, you’re incredibly grateful that your relationship has skated under the press radar. You suspect that Steve’s ‘couple behavior’ this morning is a result of happiness, holiday cheer, and perceived anonymity (you like the scruff he’s sported these past weeks, but… come to think of it, you wonder if he grew it just for that extra layer of obfuscation. Cap doesn’t quite pull National Icon status with hints of a beard, after all).

After forty minutes of happily wandering from booth to booth and window display to window display, the two of you decide to partake in the reason why everyone’s there so early in the morning: Christmas pastry from one of the best bakeries in central New York.

The town has set up a charming eating area just off the central square in a church parking lot. There are evergreen trees lining one side, each decorated in a different (sometimes chaotic) style and heavily festooned with lights. The picnic tables are all red and green, and hanging from a few of the arching lightposts is a bundle of familiar-looking plant-life. Steve sends you to snag a seat ahead of him while he waits in line, and when he comes back, he’s got twice as many goodies as you expected, all piled up on one plate.

“They all have a label on them saying ‘Mistle-hug,’” he says, standing at the end of the table. “I have two plates’ worth here, but they were much more stable like this.”

“How are we going to eat all this?” you ask, delighted nonetheless. You take the plate and carefully liberate the second stacked plate so you can distribute the bounty evenly, but Steve doesn’t hasn’t sat down yet. “If you don’t come pick out what you want, I’m going to get greedy!” you lie in a singsong voice. All he does in response is say your name softly.

“What are you--” you ask as you straighten up and look over at him. He’s standing at almost battle stance, frozen still with one hand tucked into the inside of his jacket. You immediately see the beautiful pattern the snow’s made on his shoulder, and pop to your feet with your phone.

“Wait, that’s not--” Steve says in a bewildered voice, his brows adorably furrowed even when you show him the picture.

“Here,” you say impudently, reaching up to kiss at his shoulder and thus melt the ‘offending’ snowflake art so he can feel free to sit down. “All perfect now.”

“You’re completely right,” Steve says. There’s something odd in the tenor of his voice-- and then suddenly he’s on one knee in front of you, pulling that hand out of his coat pocket with a recognizably-sized box.

You’ve got tears in your eyes, flowers blooming in your heart, and powdered sugar on your hands, which is why you’d chosen to kiss the snow off instead of brush it, but then Steve starts to speak.

“I was going to do this by the big tree, but then it hit me-- I spent years locked in ice, and it was all because I was waiting for you to come kiss all the cold away. You’re everything I didn’t and couldn’t know I needed-- a warm smile, a fighting heart, a clever mind, and more than that, you make me feel smarter, stronger, and happier when I’m with you. Will you marry me?”

You can barely get the word ‘YES!’ out past the lump in your throat, but you’d started nodding as soon as he opened his mouth. Steve tugs the ring out of the box and slides it perfectly onto your finger before surging upwards, pulling you into a twirling, joyful hug that dances the two of you a good few feet away from your table.

“Look, they’re under the Mistle-hug!” some voice calls out, and Steve’s --your future husband’s-- chest starts shaking with laughter. He sets you down and you both look up. A mere centimeter above his head spins one of the fake mistletoe pieces, its label dislodged by your antics. A ‘Hug! Hug! Hug!’ chant starts from the growing crowd of onlookers, and you nod up at Steve, your heart in your eyes.

“Don’t mind if I do!” he quips, engulfing you in a bear hug that leaves your newly-adorned left hand once again resting right on his chest. At the very edges of the roaring in your ears you hear a few people correctly guess who the two of you are, but you’re too delighted to mind.

A half hour later, when most of the well-wishers are finished offering their advice, encouragements, and pieces of paper for Steve to autograph, you notice that you’d left a powdered sugar outline on his coat.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you tell Steve, nodding at the handprint and grabbing a wreath-adorned paper napkin to dip it in your cider to wash it off.

“Leave it,” he says, stopping you with a possessive little thumb swipe across the ring he’d placed on your finger. “Feels like it belongs there, just like you, sweetheart.”

You want to tell him all the ways you love him, all the things he’s made better in your life, all the demons he’s conquered for you simply by being Steve Rogers, but you’re speechless. All at once, the perfect tension-breaker hits you, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” Steve asks in a wary, amused tone. It’s another sign of how well you know each other.

“Can we try to convince Tony that I get to take the name Mrs. America?"

As it turns out, that’s exactly what most of the next day’s news articles call you.

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sunnylands-world · 2 years ago

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Western boy

Pairing: cowboy Harry styles x fem reader

Summary: your little crush on your father's best friend finally turns into what you always wanted it to...

Word count: 1,186

Warnings: oral [fem receiving], unprotected p in v [don't be dump please], dirty talk, tummy bulge kink, breeding kink, age gap, western themes

A/n: I don't know if I have any readers for Harry styles but here's this fic again because I deleted it

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You and your friend were taking a stroll to the market in your town. The dust of the desert seemed to blow heavily despite the heat that scorched your skin; your boots looked like your father hadn't taken them to get a decent scrub in a while and your hat sat tilted on your head protecting your eyes from the rays of the sun.

"dear God [name], how much farther I honestly think I'll melt if I have to take another step!" your friend groaned and you chuckled. "It's a beautiful day out daisy, I think it's perfect for a walk. You act as if you ain't walked a day in your life." you called back to her. "But you're father's the sheriff! surely we could have gotten a ride, why ever didn't you ask." She whined and you rolled your eyes.

Your father was indeed the sheriff, people in town considered you a daddy's girl who was spoiled despite the fact that you hadn't been seen bathing in the finest things. You took a few steps before familiar brown leather boots on horseback caught your eye and a small smile came to your face. "My, my if it isn't the chief's little girl" his voice said as the sound of horseshoes came in closer, stopping you in your tracks. "Hello to you Mr. Styles" you said looking at him.

Harry was your father's best friend, you practically grew up with him in your life; his hair was cut nicely though you did miss the long locks under his brown cowboy hat. His smirk spread wide as he shamelessly looked you over, you bit your lip thinking about how much he'd done that lately. "I must say, you've grown up to be a fine young lady. Pretty as a flower!" he praises and you shyly smile. "You're not too bad yourself Harry" you complimented and there was no lie in your words.

Harry was at least in his late 30's or early 40's and he definitely aged a lot better than most men out here, he looked like he was a favorite of the lord's with his brown curls and shimmering green eyes and his facial hair suited him deliciously might you add. "Shouldn't go around telling a man like me somethin like that doll, I might just think you're offering me something" he breathed out, letting his eyes linger a while on your open top showing your perky breasts.

"Maybe I am styles" you challenged. "Don't go making promises you can't keep" he mumbled and you locked eyes with him. "I ain't making promises styles, I'm offering" you say and your eyes are genuine. He smirks. "Go home daisy, I'm taking your friend for a ride" he says, reaching his hand out for you to climb up the brown horse.

Your friend huffs heading for the stairs of the nearest place for alcohol and you cling to Harry's back as you ride to his home.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Your back rested on the queen size bed as Harry knelt down between your legs that were bent upwards so he could lap at your dripping cunt. Your dress was long gone and your hands grabbed handfuls of your breasts as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the older man. "You taste as sweet as pie doll, dripping your sweet juices for me" Harry said, as he let his tongue thrust into you.

"Oh God Harry" you cried out, bucking your hips up chasing your high desperately, his nose bumped your clit with every jerk of your waist and his stubble scratched an itch you never knew you had. "That's it doll, cum for me, make a mess" he says, dipping his tongue deeply into you, licking at your soft walls assaulting the sensitive area between your legs. You followed his order like the good girl you were drenching him with shouts of his name. He didn't stop slurping and sucking till he gathered every last drop of your release.

He stood with his knees now between your thighs, leaning forward kissing your forehead gently. "You still with me sugar?" He asked, seeing your lashes flutter a bit but you nodded. "Still with you Harry" you uttered softly, hazy from your first orgasm. "I'm gonna fill you up sweetness, you okay with that. Want me to stuff you full" he confirmed, his little comment at the end only made you all the more eager for him. "Yess Harry, please" you begged, dry humping his jeans.

He let out a chuckle, pulling at the loop of his belt that was adored with all his many gadgets. You couldn't help but look as he freed his cock. It leaked precum from the swollen red tip, his size was at least a good six or seven inches and you almost shut your legs as you thought of how something so big would fit inside you. He came forward rubbing the head of his length between your wet folds teasing your entrance.

"Please don't tease me Harry," you pleaded far to in need of fulfilling your fantasies. "Since you asked so nicely" he said, driving his cock deep in your tight wet opening, your head went back into his pillows as you felt him touch the spot deepest inside you. "Oh my goodness Harry!" You called into the room as he began to move in a back and forth motion, his hands pressing your legs to your chest; the bed rocking against the wall.

"Would you look at that, my cocks deep in your little tummy" he said letting one of your legs go causing you to grab it as he pressed his hand down where his cock was supposedly visible. You leaned up on your elbows to look and sure enough a bulge was there in the place his hand was. Your eyes went wide as you moved your own hand to take the place of his while he rutted into you, you looked up to his now forest green eyes.

"God, that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. You looking all innocent while I take you like a little whore" he mumbles, his head falling back as he quickens his paces. "Wanna fill this pussy up with my cum, get ya nice and round with babies." He says, his country accent is clear as day. "That's what ya want sweetness?" He asks looking back at you, you hold eye contact with him nodding.

"Please Harry, need it" you whine rolling your hips and that seems to be what pushes him over the edge as he fills you with warm cum triggering your second climax of the night.."holy fuck doll take it fucking take my cock" he moans with his legs trembling as he falls forward baring his head in your neck, sweaty chest pressed to yours.

You kiss his neck tenderly while you cum on his cock with your own words of nonsense. You don't even think about the reaction your father will have while you snuggle closer to Harry with him still deep in you.

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#harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles x singer!reader #harry x reader #cowboy #smut

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cakemagemaeve · 2 years ago

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Got some new stuff up for sale on my eBay page! Come check it out and maybe buy something so that I can buy groceries and pay bills!

First up is a NIB Hasbro My Little Pony Ice Cream Stand Mini Figure Friendship is Magic

There is a dent in one side of the box, but otherwise everything's in good condition!

Starting bid: $9.99

Buy it now: $15.00

Next is My Little Pony Wonderbolts Cloudsdale Mini Collection Target Exclusive NEW

Starting bid: $28.00

Buy it now: $39.00

Then there's a 2014 Monster High Ghoul Fair Scarah Scream Banshee Doll Brand New Gen 1 RARE

Starting bid: $100.00

Buy it now: $150.00

I also have a Pair of Collector's Collector's Choice Old World 18" Caroling Dolls with Stands

Okay, so I'm not gonna lie, these dolls freak me the fuck out. I mean, look at them! They're supposed to be caroling but their wide-open mouths (with lovingly detailed lips) imply...something else entirely. Seriously, my whole family calls them "the blowjob dolls" and I honestly think their creator should be on some sort of watch list, if you know what I mean. Anywho, these unbelievably creepy caroling dolls come with stands and their original boxes. The girl one comes with her certificate of authenticity. They may or may not be haunted by murder-ghosts. The boxes are in rough shape (they were in my aunt's garage for who knows how long), but the dolls themselves appear to be in fairly good condition. Please help me get them out of my house; they scare me. :C

Starting bid: $20.00

Buy it now: $35.00

I also still have October Daye: The Brightest Fell by Seanan McGuire (2018, Mass Market), which I'm selling because I accidentally ended up with two copies of it.

Buy it now: $4.00

And lastly, I still have Dublin Universal Unisex Adult/Junior Kids Horse riding Tall Boots, Size 36 (6)

I got them for my birthday a few years before Sharif died. I tried them on once, but they're just too tall for my short little hobbit legs, and so I never wore them again. They've been in a box in my closet for years, so they're still in pretty good shape!

Starting bid: $37.00

Buy it now: $50.00

Anyway, I'm hoping to get some more stuff listed over the next few weeks, and I'll be sure to post the links here when I do!

#mlp:fim #g4 mlp toy sets #wonderbolts #monster high #g1 monster high #scarah screams #creepy dolls #so creepy #porcelain dolls #fashion dolls #english riding boots #tall boots #october daye #seanan mcguire #ebay

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shatteredloremastertale · 2 days ago

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tejastravels1 · 8 days ago

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🚖 Complete Guide to the Best Family-Friendly Taxi Service to Kempegowda International Airport

Traveling with your family—especially in a city like Bangalore—can be stressful if you don’t plan ahead. If you're heading to Kempegowda International Airport with toddlers, senior citizens, or extra luggage, finding the right family-friendly taxi service isn’t just a choice—it’s a necessity.

Let’s explore how to make your airport ride smooth, safe, and comfortable—with real-world context, insights from the Indian market, and a closer look at why Tejas Travels, a trusted Tour and Travels Company, leads the pack in family airport transfers.

🛫 Headed to Bangalore Airport with Kids or Parents? This Is What You Must Know

Kempegowda International Airport (BLR) is one of India's busiest airports, with over 33 million passengers annually. If you’re a family of four or more, ride-hailing services like Uber or Ola may fall short—think cramped legroom, last-minute cancellations, and limited luggage space.

👶 Parents with infants often face the issue of unavailable child safety seats 🧳 Larger families usually struggle with boot space for strollers and bags 🕓 Elderly travelers need timely pickups—not fluctuating ETAs

A study by Statista shows that nearly 64% of Indian travelers prioritize reliability over pricing when traveling with family—especially to airports. That’s where dedicated family taxi services make a big difference.

🚗 Why Not All Airport Cabs Are Safe for Family Travel

The reality of city traffic, road conditions, and poor last-mile navigation often makes average taxis unsuitable for families. You don’t want to be searching for a ride while holding a cranky toddler and juggling baggage at 3 AM.

In many cases:

❌ App-based taxis don’t guarantee a clean vehicle or trained driver ❌ Availability of baby booster seats or air conditioning isn’t confirmed ❌ Drivers may cancel when they hear you're heading to the airport

Unlike general cab aggregators, specialized family taxi providers prioritize comfort, hygiene, punctuality, and child-friendly travel options.

🚘 Meet Tejas Travels – Bangalore’s Family-Focused Tour and Travels Company

When it comes to airport transfers for families, Tejas Travels stands out. This reputed tour and travels company in Bangalore has earned a strong name in both taxi services and bus rental services across Karnataka.

With Tejas Travels, you get:

✅ Trained chauffeurs familiar with family routes to Kempegowda International Airport ✅ Availability of child safety seats and booster cushions ✅ 24/7 customer support for urgent airport drop queries ✅ Vehicles ranging from sedans to spacious SUVs, ideal for joint families

One Bangalore family of five reported:

“We booked with Tejas Travels after two Ola drivers cancelled last-minute. They had the car at our doorstep on time, with a baby seat already installed. It was a smooth ride to the airport!”

🚖 What Really Makes a Taxi ‘Family-Friendly’? Here's the Checklist That Matters

When you’re not traveling solo, your cab needs more than wheels.

🧸 Child-friendly fittings: Seat belts, rear-seat AC vents, and baby locks 🧼 Hygiene & maintenance: Clean interiors matter with infants and elderly 📦 Luggage capacity: SUVs or MUVs that handle suitcases + strollers 📲 Live tracking: Must-have for early-morning or late-night rides 🧑‍✈️ Experienced drivers: Courteous, trained in handling kids and senior passengers

Tejas Travels delivers on all these fronts, giving families peace of mind.

🔄 Uber vs Ola vs Tejas Travels – Which Is Better for Airport Drops?

While Uber and Ola dominate app-based bookings, they come with limitations:

⚠️ Surge pricing during peak hours ⚠️ No guaranteed driver assignment ⚠️ Inconsistent service quality

In contrast, Tejas Travels allows you to pre-book days in advance, lock your price, and choose the exact vehicle based on your family size. For example, they offer 7-seater Innova Crysta cabs ideal for families of 6, with plenty of space for luggage.

This makes them a preferred choice over gig-based models for reliable family airport transportation.

🍼 Booking a Family Cab with Baby Seat in Bangalore Has Never Been Easier

Booking with Tejas Travels is designed for simplicity. You can:

📞 Call their customer care for personalized booking 🌐 Visit their website to select vehicle types & add special requests like child seats ⏱️ Get confirmation within minutes, even for late-night pickups

Whether you’re heading to the airport from Whitefield or Electronic City, Tejas Travels ensures on-time arrivals—so you don’t miss your flight.

💰 How Much Does a Family Airport Cab Cost in Bangalore?

Prices with most app-based cabs fluctuate due to demand-based pricing. But with Tejas Travels, you get:

🔒 Fixed fares, disclosed upfront 🧾 GST-inclusive invoices 🚙 Transparent add-ons (child seat, extra luggage, etc.)

For a family of four, a one-way ride to Kempegowda Airport may cost between ₹1,200 – ₹2,000 depending on location and vehicle type.

A Bengaluru-based working couple said:

“The peace of mind of booking with Tejas outweighed the minor extra cost. No surprises, no stress.”

⭐ Families Share Their Experience with Tejas Travels

In 2024, Tejas Travels received a Trustpilot rating of 4.8 stars—mostly from families who valued their punctuality, spacious vehicles, and kid-friendly service.

One user review read:

“I was nervous about our 4 AM drop to the airport with my toddler. The driver arrived early, helped load luggage, and even played soothing music for my child.”

Positive reviews build confidence for families who are hesitant to try a new service.

🧳 Bonus Tip: Got a Big Family Event Coming Up? Think Bus Rental

Heading to the airport with extended family for a destination wedding? Or returning home from a vacation with multiple relatives?

🚌 Tejas Travels also offers bus rental services, perfect for groups 💒 Planning a ceremony? Their wedding bus hire and coach rental options are ideal 🌆 For local trips, consider their travel bus rental for city-to-airport transport

It’s a flexible, affordable alternative to booking 3-4 cars for your family group. In fact, their bus rental service in Bangalore is among the top-rated on Google.

🏁 Final Thoughts: Make Your Next Family Airport Ride Safe, Easy & Reliable

Whether it’s a family holiday, a last-minute business trip, or a wedding group heading out—don’t leave your airport ride to chance.

🎯 Choose a service that puts family safety and convenience first 🧭 Trust a local provider with strong roots in Bangalore travel—like Tejas Travels 📞 Book early, confirm your ride, and enjoy peace of mind

✈️ Ready for a stress-free family ride to Kempegowda International Airport? Book with Tejas Travels today—and experience the difference.

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autohunt · 9 days ago

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Jaguar XF - Luxury Sedan Redefined | Price, Specs, Interior, Mileage & Review

The Jaguar XF 2025 is more than just a car-it's an expression of elegance, performance, and cutting-edge technology. If you're searching for a premium sedan that offers world-class luxury, spirited driving dynamics, and timeless design, the Jaguar XF deserves a serious look. This article gives you everything you need to know-from specs, pricing, and features to the latest updates and comparisons with rivals. Whether you're planning a test drive or simply exploring options, this guide has you covered. Let’s explore what makes the XF 2025 a head-turning choice in the world of luxury sedans.

Introduction to Jaguar XF 2025

The Jaguar XF 2025 is a British-engineered luxury sedan that balances elegance and performance seamlessly. Known for its refined ride, responsive handling, and understated charisma, the XF has remained a top contender in the executive sedan segment. In 2025, Jaguar aimed to deliver an XF that aligns with the brand’s commitment to transition into an all-electric lineup-meaning this could be one of the last combustion-powered XF models available. Even though the XF has been discontinued in India, it continues to create buzz in international markets and among used luxury car buyers.

Jaguar XF Price and Availability

The Jaguar XF has always been competitively priced compared to German rivals. In international markets like the UK and the US, the 2025 XF starts at approximately $48,000. In India, when available, it was priced between ₹47.67 lakh and ₹76 lakh (ex-showroom), depending on the trim and engine. On-Road Price in India (Last Known): Petrol Variant: ₹60–65 lakh. Diesel Variant: ₹63–70 lakh. You can still find certified pre-owned Jaguar XF models through luxury car dealerships across major Indian cities.

Jaguar XF Design and Exterior Overview

The Jaguar XF has always embraced subtle luxury. Unlike some aggressive rivals, the XF is known for its graceful proportions, aerodynamic stance, and sleek lines. Highlights: Slim LED headlights with signature DRLs. Gloss black grille and sporty bumper design. 19 to 20-inch alloy wheels. Panoramic sunroof. Flush door handles for aerodynamic efficiency. The 2025 version looks slightly more sculpted and minimalist-perfect for those who appreciate elegance over extravagance. Ferrari Roma Review.

Inside the Cabin: Jaguar XF Interior

Step inside, and the XF greets you with premium materials, intuitive tech, and British craftsmanship. Interior Features: 12.3-inch digital instrument cluster. 10-inch Pivi Pro touchscreen infotainment system. Meridian premium sound system. Leather upholstery with contrast stitching. Wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto. Wireless charging pad. Multi-zone climate control. Ambient lighting. The cabin feels more like a luxury lounge than a traditional car. The rear seats are spacious enough for long journeys, and the overall vibe is one of refined comfort.

Engine Options and Performance

The Jaguar XF 2025 offers both petrol and diesel engine options, tuned for smooth performance and efficiency. Petrol Variant: 2.0L Turbocharged I4. Output: 246 hp, 365 Nm torque. 0-100 km/h: ~6.5 seconds. Diesel Variant: 2.0L Turbocharged Diesel. Output: 201 hp, 430 Nm torque. 0-100 km/h: ~7.6 seconds. Transmission: 8-speed automatic gearbox. Rear-wheel drive and AWD available. The ride is supple, handling is sharp, and highway cruising is incredibly composed-making it perfect for both daily commutes and long-distance travel.

Jaguar XF Mileage and Efficiency

Fuel economy has improved slightly in the 2025 update due to engine refinement and lighter materials. Variant Fuel Type Mileage (Claimed) 2.0L Petrol Petrol 10.8 – 12.5 km/l 2.0L Diesel Diesel 16.3 – 18.9 km/l The diesel option is clearly the more efficient pick for long-distance drivers.

Dimensions, Boot Space & Ground Clearance

Knowing the size and practical aspects is vital for urban and highway users alike. Specification Value Length 4962 mm Width 2091 mm Height 1457 mm Wheelbase 2960 mm Ground Clearance 141 mm Boot Space 505 liters It’s big enough to offer a comfortable ride but compact enough to be maneuverable in cities.

Jaguar XF Safety and Driver Assistance

Jaguar has packed the XF 2025 with top-notch safety and driver assistance features. Top Features: Adaptive Cruise Control. Lane Keep Assist. Blind Spot Monitoring. Traffic Sign Recognition. Rear Cross Traffic Alert. Emergency Braking. 6 to 8 airbags (depending on variant). 360-degree camera. These features ensure peace of mind for both driver and passengers. McLaren 750S Review.

Technology and Connectivity Features

Jaguar’s in-house Pivi Pro system has matured into one of the cleanest and fastest infotainment setups in this class. Included Tech: 10-inch HD Touchscreen. Fully Digital Instrument Cluster. Over-the-Air Updates. Connected Car Tech. Alexa Voice Support. Smart Key with Push Button Start. The infotainment is intuitive and reduces driver distraction significantly.

Jaguar XF Colors and Variants

The XF comes in elegant shades that elevate its presence. Popular Color Options: Fuji White Santorini Black Firenze Red Portofino Blue Eiger Grey Carpathian Grey. Variants Offered Globally: XF S XF R-Dynamic SE. XF R-Dynamic HSE. Each trim focuses on a mix of performance, luxury, and personalization.

Jaguar XF Vs Rivals: BMW 5 Series, Audi A6, Mercedes E-Class

Here’s a quick comparison table: Feature Jaguar XF 2025 BMW 5 Series Audi A6 Mercedes E-Class Starting Price ₹48–76 lakh ₹65–85 lakh ₹61–81 lakh ₹72–92 lakh Boot Space 505L 530L 560L 540L Top Speed 225 km/h 250 km/h 250 km/h 250 km/h Unique Factor British Elegance Driver Focused Tech-loaded Ride Comfort The Jaguar XF stands out with its distinctive design, pricing, and refinement.

Is Jaguar XF Discontinued in India?

Yes, the Jaguar XF has officially been discontinued in India. Jaguar Land Rover (JLR) has realigned its product strategy toward electric vehicles, and XF was among the last internal combustion sedans in its lineup. However, the XF is still sold in other global markets and is available in India via the used car segment.

Jaguar XF Booking, Test Drive & Buying Options

While new bookings for the XF are no longer available in India, you can: Book a test drive of available pre-owned XF models at authorized Jaguar dealerships. Explore certified used Jaguar XF listings on CarDekho, CarWale, Spinny, and Big Boy Toyz. Check out financing and EMI options via luxury car resellers.

Jaguar XF Second-Hand Market & Resale Value

The Jaguar XF holds moderate resale value. Models from 2016 to 2020 typically sell between ₹20–45 lakh depending on mileage, condition, and variant. Tips for Buying Used XF: Check service history from Jaguar-authorized centers. Inspect for electronic and infotainment issues. Prefer low-mileage diesel variants for better efficiency.

Latest Jaguar XF News & What’s Coming Next

May 2025: Jaguar confirmed focus on EV-only models by 2026. XF likely to be replaced by an electric luxury sedan in the future. A redesigned electric grand tourer and two new EVs are expected to debut globally in 2026. Stay tuned as Jaguar reinvents itself in the luxury EV space. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHkCDFz0mKs

Conclusion

The Jaguar XF 2025 is an extraordinary blend of performance, sophistication, and British charm. Though no longer available brand-new in India, it remains a stellar option in the luxury sedan space-especially for those exploring pre-owned premium vehicles. From stylish design to refined interiors and advanced features, the XF continues to be relevant in discussions around luxury on wheels.

FAQs

1. What is the Jaguar XF 2025 price in India? The last known ex-showroom price in India ranged between ₹47.67 lakh and ₹76 lakh. 2. Why is Jaguar XF discontinued in India? Jaguar discontinued the XF to align with its global transition to an electric-only portfolio by 2026. 3. What is the mileage of Jaguar XF 2025? Petrol: 10.8–12.5 km/l, Diesel: 16.3–18.9 km/l. 4. What is the boot space in Jaguar XF? The Jaguar XF offers a generous 505 liters of boot space. 5. Is Jaguar XF better than BMW 5 Series? It depends—XF offers better value and elegance, while the 5 Series offers sharper performance. 6. What engine options does Jaguar XF offer? 2.0L turbo petrol and diesel engines with 8-speed automatic transmission. 7. Is Jaguar XF a good used luxury car? Yes, if well-maintained, it’s one of the best entry points into the luxury segment. 8. Can I still book a Jaguar XF in India? New bookings are closed, but certified used models are available. Read the full article

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old-mousebow · 1 month ago

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Old Friends and New Sights

“Theo? Is that you?” A familiar voice croaked, “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.”

“Fabian?” Crows could spell trouble, some of them tried to attack lone mice, but they could be reasoned with, giants wasted a lot of food after all.

“I knew it was you!” The crow poked his head into the helmet, “What brings you out this way?”

“Maurice’s ice shipment hasn’t come in from up river, I am going looking for the barge.”

“While I don’t know what happened to the barge, a sparrow told me that there was a violent storm up there a few days ago, I can fly up there to see if you want me too?” Theodore nodded enthusiastically as Fabian continued, “I can’t really help, not all mice are as cool headed as you so if I approach the barge I’ll likely make things worse but it’s not that far for me.”

“Could you fly me up there?” If he could make it upriver today he could still make it back by market day.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, We’d be up in the air at night and you know how hungry the owls get near Willowroots.” It was a good, if frustrating point. He could make it to Whitestone by evening and hopefully find a good spot to camp in one of the caves.

“I would appreciate it if you could get me any information, maybe we can meet tomorrow and I can have found something for you by then?” Theodore asked, he didn’t have anything to give Fabian yet, but he would find something along the river bank.

“Until tomorrow then,” Fabian withdrew his head and Theodore followed him out, looking up at the bird who batted his wings and with a short series of hops launched himself into the air. The gust of wind pushed Theodore over and as he stood back up to brush himself off the crow was already disappearing into the distance.

Theodore cut a few long strands off the helmet and, rolling them into a tight loop packed them into his bag. Picking up his walking stick he looked up the river and steeled himself. In the distance he could see the Giants Way a bridge and stone road they used. It was a big obstacle to cross as giants didn’t often see mice along the road. He would have to decide about how to get past it. Over or under the bridge? He mulled over the question as he continued his so far gentle day.

That gentleness was interrupted as the bank changed, from a gradual slope the riverbank steepened until it became a cliff of sorts, a straight drop into shallow water and a forest of reeds to the one side, and to the other a dirt path that with large stones on the side. The sunlight glinted through the reeds and crowned the grass in golden halos. The path’s usually brown colour seemed bathed in the soft yellow of corn. Theodore made sure to stay in the grass between the two; he had no intention of walking in the open or in the water. The lapping of the water running into the cliff below filled the air with a gentle hum. A hum that was very nearly like music as small stones were overturned and pushed and pulled along the river, casting ever changing reflections onto the cliff wall.

That hum accompanied him as he drew ever closer to the bridge. Its sides were tall and made of stones stacked on top of each other. Its colours running the gamut from grey to slightly orange tinted as they threw shadows across the road, he decided to head over the road, it was faster and he wanted to settle comfortably in Whitestone before sunset.

The road was a wide stretch without cover, and, as Theodore poked his head through the grass line he saw a giant riding along in a cart drawn by a horse. The giant wore a light blue jacket and yellow dyed boots. His battered hat was adorned with a sleek white feather. The cart carried bags behind it as the chestnut horse pulled the cart behind it.

The giant seemed shorter than others, but Theodore never had a good eye for the size of giants. What he did have a good eye for was when he was spotted. The giant raised his cap to him and locked eyes with Theodore, his blue eyes had a jolly light behind them as a smile peaked beneath his white moustache and beard. Theodore squeaked and ducked back into the grass. The giant roared, or maybe laughed, as he hid in the grass. Slowly, the sound of the cart disappeared from earshot. Theodore lay flat against a stone until he was sure the giant was gone, but to his consternation he heard another approaching. The Giant’s Way was a busy route, and he would have to head under the bridge if he wanted to not be seen again.

And so he headed for the arch of the bridge. As he approached it he felt a cold breeze wind its way downriver. Most of the bridge here was already cast in shadow and the ledge was narrow, barely a spit of dirt. It would be a tight fit, and all he could do was hope that it held. The drop wasn’t far but the water was cold and running the opposite direction of where he wanted to go. He steadied himself and set his first paw onto the wet dirt, he felt the ground shift and settle as he started to move.

The water was forced into a narrower space, more of it crashing against the banks. The sound it created echoed around the bridge into what nearly grew into a roar. As he walked along he could see dirt being stripped from the bank behind him. His ears folded back against his head as he tried to calm himself; the bank had held so far, it would hold for longer still. That reassurance didn’t slow the beating of his heart, he resolved to move quickly and dashed as well as he could across the bank, trying to ignore the sinking pit in his stomach.

He made his way steadily under the bridge and emerged into the open again after a tense moment. A part of the bank collapse behind him. Still, he was safe, and as he stood to his full height he looked around. The area around the bridge had the habit of changing regularly, and this time was no exception. Someone had camped here, a large circle of stones had been erected and an area of reeds cleared away. Nothing seemed to be an immediate danger so he moved toward the abandoned site.

A log had been brought from the nearby forest and was sunken into the ground. He saw indents of different sizes around. He could only imagine how large the plates and mugs of these giants were. The coals in the fire place were long cold but would make a good way to start a fire in the future.

Theodore rolled a large piece of coal from the fire pit and took it toward the reeds. Some of them were snapped in half, and others yet were hanging between the others. As he pushed the coal into the dense stands of reeds he looked out at the bridge. A group of giants were passing over the bridge; they carried long poles with gleaming silver tips. Unlike the ones that they usually saw, these didn’t look around as they walked through; their eyes were locked forward as if on an unseen goal. Their helmets would be reflecting the sun downstream.

They wouldn’t be a threat to him he realised as his ears perked up again, happy that he was safe and began cutting the coal up. He didn’t have much space in his pack but this would be invaluable back home. Maybe they could organise a barge to fetch more coal once he returned to Old Mousebow.

Having cut the coal into a manageable chunk he stuffed it into his pack and picked up his gnarled walking stick. Whitestone was about two more hours away. He could make it by sunset, and so he set out once more, eating a small sandwich while he walked along the bank.

His sandwich had been eaten a while ago and he was making good progress along the riverbank. It had been a peaceful walk the rest of the way. Up ahead he could see the bend where Whitestone was. A small community of mice and marmots that were renowned for their gardens and were one of upstreams more sizeable trading centres. Theodore thought back to the coal, they might need it more here than back home. Old Mousebow had a lot of peat nearby, and even though he sometimes resented the work he had to do to get a fire started early in the morning it was never inconvenient.

It would be a good resource for Whitestone, they had far worse resources for fires. With a nod of his head he began the low climb up to Whitestone. The white marble bank that the river had exposed years ago had been mined and burrowed into by the intrepid community. Small doors of different colours made up entrances to various dwellings, while the moss covered slopes let Theodore make out the pathway up and down the imposing rock face.Right at the top of the hill stood a large and ancient oak, its roots were said to run deep into the earth, so that no burrow or store had found their end. Only some peaked over the edge and snaked along parts of Whitestone. As Theodore approached the foot of the hill he saw rows upon rows of flowers growing on the side of the riverbank, and among them a mouse that was waving to him.

“Welcome to Whitestone,” The mouse was young, “I’m Natalie. Are you going to be staying with us for a while.”

“I’m Theodore, and yes, I was hoping to spend the night at Osgar’s Boarding House.”

“Old Osgar? He has been struggling a bit, not many travellers coming by land anymore.” Theodore nodded as she spoke; foot traffic had decreased since the Giants Way was built.

“He still has beds right?”

“Yes – yes, only a few. He sold many of them in the last harvest.”

“I have something to give him in that case, I am ashamed to admit that I neglected my duty as his friend to come up here.”

“Where are you from? Golden Cove? Kingfishers Den? Or did you come with those mice in red? From Dommyszy?” Her eyes widened as she barraged him with names of far away places. Theodore smiled and shook his head.

“I’m from nowhere that exotic. Old Mousebow is just a days hike away, and I have another day to go until I make it to the foot of Frozen Peak.” They walked along the road, passing onto the moss covered marble walkways and wound their way into the town. Natalie frowned when he mentioned Frozen Peak.

“That will take you past Willowroots. Are you sure you can manage that?”

I may not be Roalnd,” Theodore laughed, “But I have made the journey before, and this time I have a friend that will help me.”

“Old Osgar?”

“Not at all. He has to look after the Boarding House.” They arrived at an old oak door, fastened to the marble with cedar hinges, a light spilled from beneath the door and out of the high windows. Theodore pulled on the door and felt it give. They climbed the short staircase into the Boarding House.

The inside was much as he remembered it, if a bit emptier. Booths of thin wooden planks lined either wall with doors for the privacy of travellers. In the centre of the room stood a large stone oven, adorned with colours and dried petals where food was stored and could be cooked, and that kept the entire room pleasantly warm in winter. The exposed marble floor eventually gave place to stone slabs and wooden walls.. Lanterns hung from the ceiling and stood in the windows to keep everything light. And just next to the entrance was a small sitting area, sofas and chairs alongside a few books.

Osgar was bustling around in the back. He was an older gray mouse with long drooping whiskers that nearly formed a beard. A few travellers had stayed the night before and he was hanging their bedding, even during these lean times he prided himself on keeping his Boarding House clean and hygienic. He spotted Theodore and Natalie and smoothed his white apron and fixed his shirt collar.

“Theo! It has been decidedly too long. How have things been downriver?” His voice was gravelly and held a deep warmth within. The two mice embraced for a moment with smiles at their long awaited reunion.

“It has, it has. Old Mousebow is thriving, and Rosalia might be passing through this week.”

“Then why aren’t you home, preparing treats or helping wrangle up some sausages?”

“Our ice hasn’t come and I need to find out what happened and how to fix it.” He pointed upstream, “They set off from Frozen Peak’s base and I reckon that would be the best place to look, unless I find the raft beforehand.” Osgar fixed him with a serious look.

“The burrows at Willowroots collapsed last summer, it will be dangerous to pass by there.”

“Nonesense, I’m going during the day,” he leaned in and whispered, “besides, Fabian will help me on.”

“That is perfectly reasonable then.” He paused, “But where are my manners. Both of you sit. I have a pot of water boiling away, we can have tea.” Natalie smiled at the invitation and the three of them made their way to the sitting area.

“I can’t stay long, tomorrow is my turn to find firestarters and the hill didn’t yield anything today.”

“Nonesense,” Theodore smiled, “I can tell you the ideal place to find some. Just upstream of the Giant’s Way there is an abandoned fire pit. Lots of coal there. I even brought some for Osgar.” He pulled the coal from his bag and handed it to Osgar.

“That’s too kind Theo. In that case I insist that you don’t pay while you stay. This can start fires for half of winter.”

“And if we launch a barge in the morning we can manage two trips and I can spend more time with my flowers.”

“Especially if you get Cadogan to help you, he has a strong back and is always up to help. Now more than ever, he finished another burrow yesterday.” Cadogan was a young marmot that lived at Whitestone. It was his work that carved new burrows into the stone as he was diligent in his work, taking great pride in the collection of marble he acquired that he squirreled away in his burrow. Theodore however didn’t know this but enjoyed the tea he was drinking regardless. Seeing Natlaie and Osgar speaking so animatedly made him happy, and already got him to missing the little house and the community of friends he had at Old Mousebow.

Once the tea was drunk and the cups packed away Theodore and Osgar got to cooking supper. The sun was setting now and they prepared a full meal. Natalie in the meantime went home to her burrow, and prepared to recruit Cadogan for the next day. As they sat eating supper at one of the windows they got to talking. They talked through the usual pleasantries and caught each other up to the goings on in their lives. The conversation did, as it must, turn to other discussions as well.

“Why is it so empty here? It can’t all be because of the Giant’s Way.” Theodore looked to the rest of the large open space, he remembered a time when it was full and he had to be lucky to find a bed to sleep in.

“Not only. Since the Willowroots owls became more aggressive there have been less travellers to us as well. The ones that come by boat or raft don’t stay the night because our docks are too exposed to the river,” Osgar sighed, “and when adventurers start going downriver on their adventures they don’t come back that often. I still make enough to get by.”

“Natalie told me that you sold your beds.”

“Nobody had used them in a while and I thought it best to give them new homes.” The mouse looked deep into his bowl.

“I’m sure we can breathe some new life into this place.” Theodore stood up and stepped away from the window, “First things first, you could put a nice bar in here, a place for others to rest after a long day’s work. Move the beds to the back and have an open space for others to relax in. Is the Burrow still the only inn in town?”

“It is,” Osgar smiled at him, “but they seem to be doing very well.”

“They also don’t serve as good drink as you do,” he tapped his chin, “you could make a deal with them. I know Rosalia comes up here, other traders must too. Take the Burrow and make it into a place for travellers to hawk their wares from.”

“But they’ve always done it on the riverbank.”

“That’s because you don’t have a market square. Burrow has a large space in front of it, you can run the square.” Theodore smiled, his ears standing tall as he stopped pacing and looked at his friend.

“I guess I can ask – but I don’t know why people would stay here then.” Osgar had always been cautious but Theodore wasn’t going to be dissuaded.

“If they can sell in town they will stay in town for the night. You can accommodate merchants and boats. I’m sure the docks aren’t that bad. I remember some staying in for days on end.”

The two friends smiled as they hashed out a plan, if they could work with the Burrow they could make Whitestone even more popular, maybe even as a place to overnight. In their excitement they made chalk marks on the floor. The bar would go here, the beds would be moved to here, this seating area would expanded, they’d put a rug there. With that they laid their plans late into the night, until, well after midnight they stumbled into their beds and fell asleep.

-------

Apologies for the delay. I have this entire story written out. Must just remember to post it piece by piece.

That said. I hope you enjoyed it :>

#old mousebow #original writing #fantasy #fantasy mice #theodore #fiction #writeblr

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bukopedia · 1 month ago

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Exploring Suzuki Used Cars: Reliability, Value, and Performance

Suzuki has built a reputation for producing dependable, affordable, and versatile vehicles, making their used cars a smart choice for budget-conscious buyers seeking quality without breaking the bank. From compact city cars like the Swift to rugged SUVs like the Vitara and practical crossovers like the S-Cross, the used Suzuki market offers something for everyone. In this blog, we’ll explore why Suzuki used cars are worth considering, highlight popular models, and share tips for finding the best deals in 2025.

Why Choose a Used Suzuki?

Suzuki vehicles are known for their durability, low running costs, and straightforward design, making them ideal for used car buyers. Here’s why they stand out:

Legendary Reliability: Suzuki consistently ranks high in reliability surveys, with models like the Swift and Vitara earning praise for minimal mechanical issues. Many used Suzukis come with the remainder of a seven-year/100,000-mile warranty (with regular servicing), offering peace of mind.

Affordable Ownership: Suzukis are fuel-efficient, with many models achieving 45-55mpg, and their simple engineering keeps maintenance costs low. Insurance groups are typically low, making them ideal for young drivers or families.

Versatile Range: Whether you need a nimble hatchback, a compact SUV, or an off-road-capable 4WD, Suzuki’s lineup has options for urban commuters, outdoor enthusiasts, and small families.

Strong Value Retention: Suzukis hold their value well due to their reputation and demand in the used market, ensuring you get a good return if you decide to sell.

Popular Suzuki Used Car Models

Here’s a look at some of the most sought-after Suzuki models in the used car market, based on availability and buyer interest in 2025:

1. Suzuki Swift (2017–2023)

Why Buy?: The Swift is a fun-to-drive supermini with a sporty design, nimble handling, and low running costs. Its 1.2-liter mild-hybrid engine delivers up to 53mpg, while the Swift Sport’s 1.4 Boosterjet offers 129hp for enthusiasts.

Highlights: Apple CarPlay/Android Auto (post-2020 models), lightweight chassis (under 1,000kg), and a spacious boot (265 liters).

Watch Out For: Basic interior plastics and limited rear legroom. Check for clutch wear on manual models.

Best Pick: A 2020–2022 Swift SZ5 with mild-hybrid tech for efficiency and modern features.

2. Suzuki Vitara (2015–2023)

Why Buy?: This compact SUV combines rugged styling, optional ALLGRIP 4WD, and a practical interior. The 1.4 Boosterjet mild-hybrid (129hp) is punchy and economical (50mpg).

Highlights: High ground clearance (185mm), seven-inch touchscreen, and standard safety features like adaptive cruise control (post-2018 models).

Watch Out For: Firm ride on 17-inch wheels and some road noise. Ensure 4WD models have a full service history.

Best Pick: A 2019–2021 Vitara SZ-T with low mileage for a balance of price and features.

3. Suzuki S-Cross (2013–2023)

Why Buy?: The S-Cross is a practical crossover with a spacious cabin, 430-liter boot (mild-hybrid models), and optional 4WD. Its 1.4 Boosterjet engine is lively, and post-2021 models include hybrid tech.

Highlights: Seven-year warranty (if serviced), standard safety kit (lane departure warning, AEB), and competitive pricing.

Watch Out For: Dated interior and sluggish full-hybrid gearbox (post-2021). Check for boot space reduction in hybrid models (293 liters).

Best Pick: A 2020–2022 S-Cross Motion for value and reliability.

4. Suzuki Ignis (2016–2023)

Why Buy?: This quirky micro-SUV offers a high driving position, funky styling, and excellent fuel economy (up to 54mpg). Its compact size (3,700mm long) is perfect for city parking.

Highlights: Sliding rear seats, mild-hybrid tech (post-2020), and optional ALLGRIP 4WD for light off-roading.

Watch Out For: Small 260-liter boot and basic cabin materials. Avoid early 1.2 non-hybrid models for better efficiency.

Best Pick: A 2020–2022 Ignis SZ5 for hybrid efficiency and modern tech.

5. Suzuki Jimny (2018–2023)

Why Buy?: The Jimny is a cult favorite for its off-road prowess, retro design, and compact footprint. Its 1.5-liter engine and standard 4WD make it a mini Land Rover for adventurers.

Highlights: Excellent resale value, 150mm ground clearance, and a rugged ladder-frame chassis.

Watch Out For: Limited rear space, small 85-liter boot, and firm ride on pavement. High demand means premium prices.

Best Pick: A 2019–2021 Jimny SZ5 with low mileage for off-road enthusiasts.

Tips for Buying a Used Suzuki

Check Service History: Suzukis are reliable, but regular maintenance is key to preserving the seven-year warranty. Look for a full service history, ideally from a Suzuki dealer.

Inspect for Wear: On 4WD models like the Vitara or S-Cross, check for signs of heavy off-road use, such as underbody damage or worn tires.

Verify Mileage: Low-mileage examples (under 50,000 miles) are common, especially for city-driven Swifts and Ignis models. Be wary of high-mileage cars with incomplete records.

Test Drive: Ensure the clutch (manuals) and gearbox (hybrids) feel smooth. Listen for suspension noises on older Vitaras or S-Cross models.

Shop Smart: Use platforms like Auto Trader, Motors.co.uk, or Carwow to compare prices. Dealerships often offer certified pre-owned Suzukis with extended warranties.

Consider Financing: Many dealers provide PCP or HP deals on used Suzukis, with monthly payments as low as £150 for a Swift or Ignis. Check Suzuki’s approved used program for added benefits.

Where to Find Used Suzukis

In 2025, the used Suzuki market is thriving, with thousands of listings across the UK and beyond. Popular platforms include:

Auto Trader: Over 4,000 used Suzukis, with filters for mileage, price, and trim.

Motors.co.uk: Offers deals on Swifts and Vitaras, often with free history checks.

Suzuki Approved Used: Certified pre-owned models with warranty coverage and roadside assistance.

Carwow: Great for comparing prices and finding discounts on nearly new (2023–2024) models.

For example, a 2021 Suzuki Swift SZ5 with 30,000 miles can be found for £10,500, while a 2019 Vitara SZ-T with 40,000 miles starts at £12,000. Always haggle or look for seasonal promotions to save more.

What Owners Say

Owners love Suzukis for their reliability and low ownership costs. A 2020 Swift owner on Auto Trader praised its “zippy engine and cheap insurance,” while a Vitara driver noted its “surprising off-road ability for a small SUV.” Common criticisms include basic interiors and limited boot space in models like the Ignis or hybrid S-Cross. Suzuki’s customer service and widespread dealer network also earn high marks for aftersales support.

Verdict: Are Used Suzukis Worth It?

Used Suzuki cars offer unbeatable value, combining Japanese reliability, low running costs, and a versatile lineup that suits a variety of needs. Whether you’re a first-time buyer eyeing a Swift, an adventurer seeking a Jimny, or a family looking for a Vitara’s practicality, there’s a Suzuki to match. With strong warranties, affordable financing, and a robust used market, buying a pre-owned Suzuki in 2025 is a decision you’re unlikely to regret.

#automotive #car dealers #used car offers #used cars

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evcars-info · 1 month ago

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BYD Sealion 6: Affordable Electric SUV with Top Performance and Features

BYD Sealion 6: Everything You Need to Know

The BYD Sealion 6 is making waves in the electric car market with its advanced features, spacious design, and impressive performance. In this blog, we’ll briefly summarize everything you need to know about this electric SUV in simple terms.

Engine and Transmission

The BYD Seahashas an automatic transmission and an all-wheel-drive (AWD) system. This setup ensures smooth driving and better traction, especially in challenging weather conditions. As an electric vehicle, it meets zero-emission standards (ZEV), making it an eco-friendly option for those looking to reduce their carbon footprint.

Performance and Speed

The BYD Sealion 6 is powered by an electric motor that delivers quick acceleration. It can go from 0 to 100 mph in just 5.9 seconds, making it one of the faster options in its category. This SUV's top speed is 179 mph, which is more than enough for highway driving.

Suspension and Braking

The car features a MacPherson Strut suspension at the front and a multi-link suspension at the rear, ensuring a smooth and comfortable ride. With a turning radius of 6 meters, the BYD Sealion 6 is easy to maneuver, even in tight spaces.

Dimensions and Capacity

The BYD Sealion 6 is designed to be spacious and practical. Here are its key dimensions:

Length: 4,775 mm

Width: 1,890 mm

Height: 1,670 mm

Wheelbase: 2,765 mm

With a seating capacity of 5, the car is perfect for families or small groups. Its boot space is 425 liters, which is sufficient for most luggage needs. Despite its size, the car’s curb weight is 2,100 kg, with a gross weight of 2,510 kg.

Exterior

The BYD Sealion 6 is equipped with 19-inch tubeless radial tires (235/50 R19), which enhance road grip and improve overall safety. The SUV's sleek design adds to its appeal, giving it a modern and stylish look.

Why Choose the BYD Sealion 6?

Eco-Friendly: As an electric vehicle, it produces zero emissions.

Performance: It offers quick acceleration and a high top speed.

Comfortable Ride: With advanced suspension and spacious interiors, it’s great for long journeys.

Stylish Design: The sleek exterior and modern features make it a head-turner on the road.