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psychicreadsgirl · 7 months ago

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Pick a Novel: Keywords/prominent themes in your life

Pick the novel that draws your attention the most. If you can't decide between two, then look at the 2 readings. This is a general reading, so not everything will apply. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind!

Keywords: love, lust, passion, fun, temperament, cafe, sweet, bicycle, pen, books, music, loyalty, winter, sofa, furniture, thoughts, light, intuition, soulmate, art, obsidian, cake, carbonated water, skincare, socks, cooking

Celebrities/Public Figures: Audrey Hepburn, Min Yoongi, IU, Claude Monet, Angela Merkel, Andrew Carnegie, John Johnson, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page, Howard Schultz, Sam Walton, Amancio Ortega, Queen Elizabeth I, Jane Austen, Jennie Kim

Countries: Italy, Canada, South Africa, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Greece, Madagascar, Qatar, Sweden, Zambia, Taiwan, Solomon Islands

Numbers: 11, 1, 5, 9, 80, 888, 6

Brands: Hermes, Tiffany, Apple, Instagram, Taobao, Lamborghini, Deloitte, Microsoft, Chopard, Givenchy, Patek Phillipe, Chloe, Alaia, Kraft,

Kpop songs: Young Forever by BTS, Shine by PENTAGON, Me Gustas Tu by GFRIEND, Run to You by DJ DOC, Love Lee by AKMU, Deja vu by TXT, Back Down by P1Harmony, Love shot by EXO

Keywords: economy, job loss, new opportunities, play, drama, anger, frustration, lost, compass, computers, battery, feet, head, brain, summer, pearl, avocado, junk food, fried chicken, challenge, frugal

Celebrities/Public Figures: Grace Kelly, Billie Eilish, Keanu Reeves, Rosé, Jung Hoseok, Salma Hayek, Pablo Picasso, Princess Diana, Thomas Edison, Sergey Brin, Mary I, William Shakespeare, Lee Nayeon

Countries: New Zealand, USA, Maldives, Indonesia, United Kingdom, Venezuela, Lithuania, Nepal, Portugal, Poland, Lebanon, Mali, Netherlands

Numbers: 4, 99, 101, 33, 13, 14, 0

Brands: Masion Margiela, Amazon, facebook, Shein, PWC, Missoni, Moschino Couture, Toyota, citi bank, Chaumet, Polene, Pizza Hut,

Kpop songs: Love Dive by IVE, Shangri-la by VIXX, Sweety by Clazziquai, I NEED U by BTS, The Chaser by Infinite, Magnetic by ILLIT, My House by 2PM, ICY by ITZY

Keywords: tales, gossip, lies, funny, movies, theatre, cell phone, cool, kpop, magenta, ancient, history, claws, cats, tiger, fall, jealousy, games, aquamarine, lemons, makeup, pencil, groceries

Celebrities/Public Figures: Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Morgan Freeman, Kim Seokjin, Jang Wonyoung, Matt Damon, Napoleon Bonaparte, Shinzo Abe, Steve Jobs, Voltaire, Kim Jisoo,

Countries: Ethiopia, France, Russia, Ireland, Argentina, Afghanistan, Libya, Rwanda, Nigeria, Pakistan, Morocco, Malta, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Iraq,

Numbers: 2, 7, 69, 25, 55, 79, 1182

Brands: Saint Laurent, miumiu, Starbucks, Mercedez-Benz, Nestle, Oracle, Tod's, Bulgari, Rolex, KFC, SUBWAY, Carrefour, Kellog's

Kpop songs: Supernova by aespa, Maestro by seventeen, Not by the moon by GOT7, Alone by Sistar, Hip by MAMAMOO, Good Day by IU, Bite Me by ENHYPEN, Work by ATEEZ, The Feels by TWICE

Keywords: foreign, spicy, peppery, rice, no, objection, resistance, control, storms, thunderstorms, shower, tension, crush, pop, paper, mango, legs, fragrance, emerald, clothing rack, tomatoes, defeat,

Celebrities/Public Figures: Judy Garland, Margot Robbie, G-Dragon, Jeon Jungkook, Pharrell Williams, Emmanuel Macron, Bill Clinton, King Charles, Warren Buffet, Cleopatra, Kim Mingyu

Countries: South Korea, Philippines, Scotland, Spain, Albania, Guatemala, Malaysia, Iran, Romania, Honduras, Georgia, Croatia, Belgium, Czech Republic, Gambia, Guinea

Numbers: 31, 75, 412, 43, 486, 640

Brands: Chanel, Prada, Bentley, Gucci, Samsung, Disney, BMW, Hyundai, cisco, Van Cleefs & Arpels, Dior, Loro Piana, Shake Shack

Kpop songs: Gee by SNSD, If you by BIGBANG, Antifragile by LE SSERAFIM, Up and Down by EXID, OMG by NewJeans, Lion by (G)I-DLE, Hello by TREASURE,

Keywords: death, mystery, mirror, reflection, shadow, black, grey, white, funeral, video, sprint, pool, gym, streets, metro, subway, chocolate, broken, knees, moon, ruby, surgery, teeth, race

Celebrities/Public Figures: Marilyn Monroe, Barack Obama, Kate Winslet, Kim Taehyung, Aamir Khan, Marie Antoinette, Elon Musk, Robert F Kennedy, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Edward VIII, Charles Dickens, Abraham Lincoln, Park Bogum,

Countries: North Korea, China, Vietnam, Brazil, Bangladesh, Cambodia, Germany, India, Israel, Laos, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Congo, Cuba, Egypt, Mongolia

Numbers: 3, 97, 17, 19, 52, 98

Brands: Ralph Lauren, Celine, Ferrari, Huawei, Uber, intel, UPS, Calvin Klein, Piaget, Guerlain, Berluti, Pepsi, Cadbury

Kpop songs: Shut down by Blackpink, Seven by Jeon Jungkook, God's Menu by Stray Kids, Love Love Love by Epik High, Very Nice by SEVENTEEN, Birthday by Jeon Somi, Psycho by Red Velvet,

Keywords: travel, toxic, break away, departure, memory, dreams, truth, unveil, diary, journal, coffee, jacket, shoes, hands, social media, news, competition, autumn, diamonds, electricity, TV, cheat, fashion

Celebrities/Public Figures: Jane Birkin, Kim Jiwon, Gigi Hadid, Charlize Theron, Park Jimin, Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, Maximilien Robespierre, Bill Gates, Queen Elizabeth II, Vladimir Putin, Henry Ford, James Joyce, Lalisa Manobal

Countries: Japan, Australia, Mexico, Iceland, Finland, Eritrea, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cyprus, Bolivia, Botswana, Bahamas,

Numbers: 8, 646, 152, 37, 49, 22

Brands: Louis Vuitton, Lexus, Tesla, Fendi, Walmart, Nike, Siemens, Google, Cartier, Burberry, Ferragamo, Burger King, Unilever

Kpop songs: ROCKSTAR by LISA, Cherry bomb by NCT 127, Move by Taemin, Dramarama by MONSTA X, Love Scenario by iKON, Get a Guitar by RIIZE, Replay by SHINee, Candy Sugar Pop by ASTRO, Mr. Simple by Super Junior

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baekhyunsbestie · 3 days ago

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⟢ : RIDE !? ★.ᐟ

exo x f!reader ; the exos wanna take u for a ride! ⟢ requested by this qt anonie <3 ty babie!

content: 18+/mdni. 4.4k+ words. explicit language. unprotected p in v. teasing. edging. possessiveness. power dynamics. hair pulling. lil bit of manhandling. breeding kink. praise kink.

⟢ BOY NEXT DOOR!

ft. neighbor!jongin

you’ve spent the last six months watching him.

late nights on your balcony, pretending not to notice when he steps out onto his own, shirtless, damp with sweat from the gym, his muscles still flushed with exertion. the way the city lights skim over his skin, highlighting the sharp ridges of his collarbones, the deep cut of his abs. mornings in the hallway, his cologne thick in the air, clinging to your senses, making your stomach tighten as you pass the spot where he just stood. accidental run-ins—mailboxes, grocery store aisles, the slow, stifling pause of the elevator—each one leaving you burning, aching, drenched in something unspoken.

jongin has always been just out of reach, the kind of man who makes you want to fucking sin.

but tonight? tonight, there’s nothing stopping you. no teasing glances, no careful distance, no heavy pauses thick with restraint. just the weight of his body pressing you into the couch, the sharp gasp you let out as he fills you, stretching you wide, stuffing you full.

“fuck—” he groans, head dropping back, fingers digging bruises into your hips. his jaw is tight, his breath ragged, sharp exhales punched through parted lips as he watches you take him, inch by inch, walls clenching around the perfect shape of him, struggling to accommodate the stretch.

he’s thick, perfect, the kind of dick made to ruin you—veined and hot, a slight curve that drags against every sensitive spot inside you as you roll your hips, the drag slow, devastating.

“been thinking about this, haven’t you?” you tease, nails tracing down his abs, feeling the way they flex beneath your touch, the way he shudders as you squeeze around him.

his grip tightens, his head falling forward, breath hot against your skin. “baby, you have no fucking idea.”

his voice is wrecked, like he’s been aching for this just as long as you have—like the months of stolen glances, the late-night tension, the whispered fantasies have all been leading to this moment. but you’re not done teasing him yet.

you lift up, just enough for the head of his cock to press right against your entrance, before sinking down slow, letting out a soft, breathy moan as he stretches you open again, the sweet, gummy walls of your cunt hugging him tight, sucking him back in.

jongin curses, hands gripping your ass, his restraint hanging by a thread.

“stop fucking teasing,” he growls, and then his patience snaps.

he thrusts up, sharp and deep, splitting you open on his cock, making you choke on your next breath. his mouth crashes against yours, messy, desperate, his tongue curling against yours as he fucks up into you, relentless, unyielding.

your moan shatters against his lips, nails raking down his chest as he grips your hips and fucks up into you, meeting every roll of your body with a brutal thrust, driving deeper, harder, until you're gasping, barely able to breathe.

“wanted to take my time with you,” he pants, voice thick, dripping with possession, “but you just had to push me, didn’t you?”

another sharp thrust, another, your vision going hazy, heat pooling low in your belly, your walls fluttering around him, gripping him like you never want to let him go.

jongin smirks, breathless, chest heaving.

“let’s see if you can keep up.”

⟢ GYM SESH!

ft. personal trainer!chanyeol

this is so, so wrong.

not just because he’s your trainer, but because you know exactly what you’re doing—showing up to every session in leggings so tight they might as well be painted on, stretching just a little too provocatively, letting your eyes linger on him like he’s the one being watched. you stay long after your workouts end, pretending to scroll through your phone, pretending not to notice the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to put them on you.

and tonight, his patience finally snaps.

“this what you wanted?” chanyeol’s voice is a low, guttural growl, his grip bruising as he pins you down in the dim glow of the gym’s back office. his hands clamp around your waist, firm, unyielding, refusing to let you set the pace—even though you’re the one straddling him. his chest heaves, restraint hanging by a thread, his dark eyes heavy with something feral.

you smirk, nails dragging down his abs, feeling them tense under your touch as you roll your hips slow, deliberate, teasing. “what’s wrong, trainer? thought you were all about discipline.”

his nostrils flare. his fingers twitch. you barely get a second to process before his grip tightens and—fuck—he slams you down onto him, hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. your gasp is swallowed by his mouth, lips hot, desperate, devouring you like he’s been starving for this moment since the day you walked into his gym.

his head drops to your shoulder, his breath a ragged, uneven thing against your skin. “discipline?” he huffs out a breathless laugh, his next thrust sharp, punishing, leaving you clawing at his shoulders. “sweetheart, i’ve spent every fucking session holding back from bending you over that weight bench and fucking you stupid.”

your breath stutters. your nails dig deeper. but he’s not done with you yet.

his grip slides up, fingers threading into your hair, tugging, forcing your head back just enough to make sure you see him. his smirk is dark, lazy, and devastatingly cocky.“ya wanna test my limits?” his voice is a low rasp, gravel and heat, as his hips roll into you again, deeper, rougher, at a pace that has you whimpering. “then let’s see how long that bratty little mouth can last before it’s begging me for mercy.”

⟢ SITUATIONSHIP!

ft. fwb!sehun

you shouldn’t be here. not like this.

not after ghosting his texts. not after ignoring his calls. not after spending weeks pretending like this was nothing—like he was nothing.

but then tonight happened.

you went out hoping to forget him, hoping the flashing lights and the bass rattling the floorboards would drown out the sound of his voice still echoing in your head. you let strangers put their hands on you, let them whisper things in your ear, let them try to make you feel something—anything—but they weren’t him. none of them could touch you the way he did, could look at you like they already knew how you’d fall apart.

and then—his hands. his voice. his body pressing against yours in the crowd like he had been waiting for this moment.

“you can run all you want, baby,” he had murmured, lips barely grazing your ear, voice laced with amusement, with hunger. his fingers ghosted up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “but we both know you belong right here with me.”

and now you’re here. in his bed. straddling him, his grip bruising against your thighs as you roll your hips slow, teasing, making him feel every inch of you, every deliberate shift of your body as you take him.

his jaw is tight, lips parted, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths as he watches you—watches the way your lashes flutter, the way your nails dig into his chest, the way you shiver from the drag of him stretching you open.

his fingers twitch on your waist, a silent warning. you can feel it—the way he’s barely holding on, the way he wants to snap, to pin you down and take what’s his. but he’s waiting. waiting to see how far you’ll push him.

“fuck,” he grits out, head falling back against the pillows. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you smirk, dragging your nails down his torso, watching the way his abs tense beneath your touch.

“then show me.”

his eyes snap open, dark, burning, locked onto yours.

“baby, you don’t want that.”

oh, but you do.

you grind down harder, meeting his thrusts, pushing him, teasing him, testing just how much restraint he has left. his breath stutters. his grip tightens. and then—

his fingers snap around your waist, and suddenly, you’re not in control anymore.

“ya think you can just disappear on me and come back like this?” he growls, sitting up in one swift motion, arm curling around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. his other hand fists into your hair, yanking just hard enough to tilt your head back, baring your throat to him.

his lips brush against your jaw as he rolls his hips up into you—deep, sharp, deliberate. you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

“nah, baby.” his voice is low, rough, dangerous. “can’t get away from me that easily.”

his grip tightens, his next thrust knocking the breath from your lungs. his smirk presses against your lips, his voice a rough groan as he mutters,

“if you wanted me this bad, you should’ve just fucking said so.”

⟢ BAD GIRL!

ft. angry boyfie!kyungsoo

it starts with an argument.

not a loud one—kyungsoo doesn’t yell. he doesn’t have to. his words are sharp, precise, cutting through the air like a blade. his eyes are colder than any raised voice could ever be. you’ve been testing him all night, pushing, prodding, waiting for him to snap. you know exactly what will make his jaw tighten, what will make his fingers flex like he wants to grab you, wants to break you in the best way possible—but won’t.

not yet.

but then you push too far.

you don’t even know who moves first. one second, you’re glaring at him from the other end of the couch, throwing some smart-ass remark his way, and the next, you’re straddling him, his grip bruising against your hips, his body burning beneath you.

“tell me, baby. did you want to start a fight, or did you just want me to fuck you stupid?” his voice is low, rough, thick with something that sends a shiver down your spine as you grind down on him. his hands tighten—a warning.

you smirk, dragging your nails down his chest, feeling the way his abs flex beneath your touch. “you’re the one who told me to sit down and behave.” you roll your hips slow, deliberate, watching the way his breath hitches, the way his brows furrow. “so i’m just doing what you said, ‘soo.”

his head falls back, a deep groan slipping from his lips. his hands flex on your waist, his control hanging by a thread.

“fuck—baby, slow down,” he grits out, but you don’t listen.

you plant your hands on his shoulders, using him for leverage, riding him the way you know will ruin him, the way you know will make him break. his jaw clenches, his fingers twitch—his last attempt at restraint before his dark eyes snap open, locking onto yours, something burning, dangerous flickering in them.

“i said slow the fuck down.”

you don’t. you grind down harder, feeling the way he twitches inside you, the way his breath turns ragged, uneven.

and then his patience shatters.

his hands fly to your back, yanking you against his chest, his mouth grazing your ear as he growls, “you really don’t fucking listen, do you?”

before you can even smirk, he’s fucking up into you, hard and unforgiving.

the air leaves your lungs in a sharp gasp, your nails biting into his skin as pleasure rips through you. his moans break against your neck, his breath hot, his thrusts deep, ruthless, punishing.

“gonna cum inside you,” he groans, voice wrecked, almost desperate, his grip on your waist turning bruising. “gonna fill ya up—fuck—gonna make sure you know exactly who you belong to.”

his words send you spiraling. pleasure crashes over you, your moans tangled with his name, and when you clench around him, drag him under with you, his head drops to your shoulder, his body shaking beneath you as he lets himself go completely.

⟢ GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!

ft. sugar daddy!junmyeon

he’s a fucking mess beneath you—trembling, muscles pulled taut, fingers digging into your thighs so hard they’ll leave bruises, reminders of just how good you wrecked him. but that’s not what makes your lips curl—it’s the way his head is thrown back, his chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven breaths, lips parted as wrecked, broken moans spill from them. he’s close, so fucking close, but you’re not giving it to him. not yet.

“princess, please—” his voice is ruined, raw with need as you slow to an agonizing grind, rolling your hips just enough to keep him on edge, never enough to push him over. his abs flex, his breath stutters, his hands fly to your waist, desperate to take control, to make you move faster, but you’re quicker. you grab his wrists, pinning them to the mattress, nails biting into his skin.

“ah ah. not yet,” you murmur, tilting your head, watching his expression twist with frustration, watching his lashes flutter as he groans, caught between pleasure and pure torture.

“fuck—why are you doing this to me?” he chokes out, his voice wrecked, his body arching beneath you, every muscle coiled so fucking tight he might snap.

you lean in, dragging your lips along his jaw, letting your teeth sink into the sensitive skin just below his ear, making him gasp, making his hips jerk up in search of friction.

“because you look so pretty when you beg.”

his breath shudders, his fingers flex beneath your grip, hips rolling up again, desperate, needy, on the verge of breaking completely.

“princesss, please,” he whimpers, voice so sweet, so wrecked it sends a thrill straight through you. “i’ll do anything. please—please just lemme cum inside you.”

you hum, dragging your nails down his chest, reveling in the way he shivers beneath your touch.

“anything?”

he nods frantically, barely coherent, pupils blown wide, body completely fucked out. “yes, fuck—yes, anything.”

you pause for effect, let your lips ghost over his, let your breath fan against his swollen, parted mouth.

“even giving me your black card?”

his head snaps up, eyes wide with desperation. for a split second, he hesitates—but then, without a second thought—

“take it. take all of it. fuck—just please, princess, lemme fucking cum.”

and that? that’s when you finally give in.

you slam your hips down, riding him so hard his entire body jolts beneath you. his moan is strangled, torn from deep in his chest, his grip bruising as he clings to you, body shaking, gasping, begging as he falls apart completely—spilling inside you, wrecked, ruined, yours.

⟢ WASSUP, BULLET?

ft. streetracer!baekhyun

the roar of the engines is still ringing in your ears.

you should’ve won. you would have won—if baekhyun hadn’t played dirty, cutting you off right before the final stretch, forcing you to slam the brakes for half a second, just enough time for him to slip past and take the victory right out from under you.

and now, you’re paying for it.

his garage is dim, lit only by flickering overhead bulbs and the glow of neon signs from the street outside. the scent of burnt rubber and motor oil lingers thick in the air, but it’s not enough to mask the heat still simmering between you. baekhyun is sprawled back against the worn leather couch, legs spread, posture easy, confident—like he knew you’d end up here, right where he wanted you.

his smirk hasn’t left his face since the moment he crossed that finish line ahead of you, since the second he pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting lazily on your thighs, owning his victory.

but now? now you’re about to wipe it off his face.

he’s got one hand pinning your wrists behind your back, keeping you caged against him, your body at his mercy. his free hand drags up your side, featherlight, teasing, making you squirm.

“shoulda been faster, baby,” he drawls, voice dripping with amusement, fingers ghosting along your ribs, your waist, the curve of your ass. “now you gotta take it like a good loser.”

your glare is sharp, burning, but he just grins, dark eyes flickering with something dangerous.

and then—you sink down onto him.

his smirk falters. his breath catches. his fingers twitch against your waist like he’s trying to hold it together, but he’s already losing. his head falls back against the couch, a low, wrecked groan spilling from his lips as you take him in, inch by inch, until you’re fully seated, hips flush against his.

his jaw clenches, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths, but his grip stays firm—still cocky, still trying to act like this isn’t already unraveling him.

so you lean in, lips just shy of brushing his, your smirk razor-sharp.

“bet you’ll cum first.”

his breath stutters, but then his smirk flares back to life, his grip tightening, grounding himself.

“oh, baby,” he exhales, voice dark, a slow, knowing grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “you have no idea what you just started.”

and so the bet begins.

he fights it—teeth sinking into his bottom lip, jaw tight, muscles coiled, strained. his hands grip your waist, bruising, desperate, but he doesn’t give in. not yet.

you move against him, rolling your hips slow, deep, keeping the pressure steady, relentless. his head tilts back, brows furrowing, throat bobbing with every ragged breath he tries to suppress, but he still has that look. that cocky glint, like he thinks he can outlast you. like he really believes he can beat you at your own game.

but the longer it goes, the worse he breaks.

his fingers dig into your waist, harder, thighs tensing beneath you, muscles twitching under your touch. his abs flex beneath your fingertips, every sharp exhale slipping through gritted teeth, but he still won’t let go.

“you’re not—” he huffs, voice wrecked, his head snapping forward to meet your gaze, eyes dark, wild, desperate. “i’m not gonna fucking lose—”

but then you grind down harder, meeting his thrusts with something shameless, devastating, rolling your hips just right, and—

he chokes on his own breath.

his body jerks, grip slipping, muscles locking tight as a strangled groan rips from his throat.

“ah, fuck—” his voice breaks, sharp, raw, his head snapping back as his whole body shudders, finally giving in. his fingers dig into your hips like he can’t believe it’s happening, like he’s angry at himself for losing, but he can’t stop. his hips stutter, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he spills inside you, heat pooling deep, overwhelming.

for a long moment, the only sound in the garage is your combined breathing—heavy, shaky, wrecked.

and then—you smirk.

your nails drag down his chest, slow, teasing, reveling in the way his body still trembles beneath you, the way his breath hitches when your fingers ghost over his abs.

he’s wrecked. hair damp, cheeks flushed, chest heaving—but even now, he’s still looking at you like he wants more. like he wants everything.

“looks like i win, b,” you murmur, voice thick with satisfaction, your smirk curling as you taunt him.

baekhyun lets out a breathless laugh, head tilting back against the couch, running a hand through his messy, sweat-dampened hair. but when he looks at you again, something softens—just for a second.

god, you’re so fucking cute.

he could do this forever with you. the teasing, the bets, the tension, the way you push him just to see him snap. he could spend every damn night like this, your body tangled against his, your smirk driving him insane, your fingers dragging across his skin like you own him.

because maybe you do.

his hands slide up your thighs, his thumbs brushing soft, lazy circles against your skin as his lips part, as he watches you with something darker, deeper, heavier than just lust.

“best two outta three?” he murmurs, voice hoarse, hopeful, his grip tightening like he’s already decided—there’s no fucking way he’s letting you go yet.

⟢ AFTER HOURS!

ft. work crush!minseok

you never imagined you’d end up like this—straddling him on his couch, his hands gripping your hips, his breath shallow and ragged as he watches you move. not here, not with him. the work crush who always seemed untouchable, composed to the point of frustration, always tucked behind crisp suits and sharp professionalism. but even then, something about him had always kept you on edge—the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the flicker of something darker beneath that quiet intensity.

it started innocent. a passing flirtation across the conference table. stolen glances when no one else was looking. the way his lips would twitch at your laugh, like he wasn’t supposed to enjoy it as much as he did.

but this? this is anything but innocent.

“fuck—” he groans, voice thick with lust, fingers curling into your skin as he guides your hips, slow, controlled, but barely. his eyes are dark, burning, drinking in the way you sink down on him, the way your body clenches around his cock. his control is slipping, unraveling, and you love it.

“minseok,” you murmur, dragging your nails down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. his breath stutters, a sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “always so composed at work, but look at you now.”

he swallows hard, jaw tight, trying to hold himself together. “don’t tease me,” he warns, voice low, but it’s not a threat—it’s a plea.

you smirk, leaning in, letting your lips brush against his ear as you roll your hips, slow and deliberate. “i think you like it.” your voice is pure sin, soft, teasing. you feel him twitch inside you, feel the way his grip tightens like he’s seconds away from snapping. “you’re not so perfect when it’s just the two of us, are you?”

his breath hitches—just for a second—but you hear it. you feel it.

and then suddenly, you’re not on top anymore.

with one fluid motion, he flips you, your back hitting the couch as he looms over you, pressing you into the cushions, caging you beneath him. his face is inches from yours, eyes wild, dark with something that makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

“you act so confident,” he murmurs, voice dripping with authority, laced with something raw, something desperate. “but you have no idea i’m ‘bout to ruin you.”

his hand fists into the fabric of the couch beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you wider. and then—

he thrusts into you, hard, deep, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.

the air is knocked from your lungs, a choked gasp slipping past your lips as pleasure rips through you. he’s relentless, pounding into you with none of the restraint he usually carries, none of the careful control you’ve come to associate with him.

“fuck—” you whimper, fingers clawing at his back, trying to hold onto something, anything. but he’s ruthless, dragging you closer, forcing you to take him, to feel every inch.

his teeth graze your throat, his breath hot against your skin as he growls, “tell me you’re mine.”

his hips snap forward, hard enough to make you see stars, and you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but moan.

“say it.”

“i’m yours,” you gasp, voice breaking, wrecked and desperate. “fuck, min, i’m yours.”

that’s all it takes.

his grip tightens, his thrusts turning brutal, ragged, like he’s been waiting for this, for you, for far too long. he pins you down, body pressed flush against yours, fucking you like the world outside doesn’t exist, like the only thing that matters is the way you take him, the way you fall apart beneath him.

you’re not his colleague anymore. you’re his.

and he’s not letting go.

⟢ BRAKE CHECK!

ft. mechanic!yixing

you've been showing up at yixing’s garage with a new excuse every time. a weird noise. a rattling that doesn’t exist. the brakes feeling off. you know it’s bullshit. he knows it’s bullshit. but he never calls you out—just fixes what doesn’t need fixing, all while giving you that quiet, knowing smirk.

but today, when you show up again, he doesn’t even bother looking at your car. instead, he leans against the hood, arms crossed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“so, what is it this time?”

“it’s, uuuhhh… making a sound?” you try, but it’s weak, and you both know it.

yixing huffs a laugh, shaking his head before stepping closer—so close you can feel the heat rolling off him. “sweetheart, you’re a terrible liar.”

before you can stammer out some pathetic excuse, he grabs your wrist, tugging you through the garage, straight into his office. the moment the door clicks shut, he has you caged against it, one hand braced above your head, the other gripping your waist.

“you could’ve just told me what you really wanted,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, “would’ve saved you all this trouble.”

his fingers slide down to your hips, gripping, squeezing, pulling you against him. you can feel him—hard, ready, just as desperate as you are.

“is this why you keep coming back?” he breathes, lips brushing your jaw as his hands slip lower, over your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his desk.

“maybe,” you tease, breath hitching when he nudges your legs apart.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “cute.”

then he’s on you—mouth hot, hands rough, grip firm as he pulls you closer, fingers digging into your skin like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. you ride him right there, his hands guiding you, gripping your ass, bruising your thighs as he watches you fall apart for him.

“oh, fuck, baby,” he groans, voice wrecked, “all those fake car problems, just so i could fuck you like this?”

his hands keep you grounded, keep you moving, every roll of your hips making his control slip further.

“didn’t peg you for the type to whimper, yixing.” you taunt, dragging your nails down his chest.

his grip tightens—hard enough to make you gasp. “ya keep running that mouth, and we’ll see if you can still walk out of here.”

the orgasm rips through you fast, his name tumbling from your lips, his hands keeping you steady as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

when it’s over, when you’re spent and breathless in his lap, he lets out a lazy, satisfied sigh, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before smirking up at you.

“so, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement, “what’s gonna be wrong with your car next week?”

you smirk back, dragging your fingers through his messy hair. “guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

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