#the stakes are high and the valley is low

[slvbum]

ᤢ ♥︎⠀‌⸻ valley of the dolls / rafe cameron!

content WARNING: escorting, prostitution, drugs, mentions of death, sensitive content. (+18)

Rafe wasn’t new to high-stakes deals. But tonight was different. Victor hadn’t come alone. Sitting beside him was his wife, she was younger than Victor, much younger, and her beauty was the kind that made men forget their words. Rafe had noticed her the moment they walked in, and he wasn’t blind to the way heads turned as she passed.

What threw him was Victor’s decision to bring her. Business dinners were for numbers, contracts, and egos, not wives. Rafe had expected to meet Victor alone to discuss a potential partnership. A clean deal, or so he’d thought. But as the night wore on, Victor’s smooth pitch about profit margins and tax incentives felt rehearsed, almost secondary. Victor’s wife, on the other hand, was quiet, her smiles timed too perfectly, her laughter a beat too late. Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling she was performing.

Victor leaned forward, his bourbon glass cradled in one hand. “Rafe, this resort is a goldmine. You know it, I know it. But investments like this need more than numbers...” His eyes flicked to his wife, a glint of something calculated in them. “Maybe my wife can convince you to take the leap. She’s got a way of… sealing deals. Why don’t you two have a private word? Clear up any doubts.”

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, so quick Rafe almost missed it. She reached for her wine glass, her movements graceful but deliberate, like she was steadying herself. Rafe’s brows furrowed. What the hell did that mean? Then, slowly, her fingers brushed against his, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt through him. It wasn’t seductive, not exactly. It was calculated, almost desperate, like she was following a script she hated.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. He pulled his hand back, folding his arms as he leaned into his chair, studying her. The pieces were starting to click, and he didn’t like the picture they formed. Victor’s comment, her nervous eyes, that touch, it wasn’t flirtation. It was a transaction.

“Convince me?” Rafe’s voice was low, edged with a dangerous calm. He leaned back, crossing his arms, his eyes locked on Victor. “If your project’s as good as you say, why the hell do I need a private chat to make up my mind?”

Victor chuckled, unbothered, leaning back with the ease of a man who always got his way. “Numbers are one thing, Rafe. But sometimes it takes a personal touch to make things… stick.” He gestured toward her, who was staring at her plate now, her fingers twisting subtly in her lap. “My wife’s is good at convincing people. Why don’t you two step outside? Talk it over. She’ll make it worth your while.”

Rafe’s stomach turned. He’d seen plenty of shady moves in business, but this was a new low. He looked at her again, catching the way her shoulders tensed, the way her lips pressed into a thin line before she forced another smile. Those eyes, though—they were screaming. Please. Don’t make this harder than it is.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ©slvbun(m) — written with love.

masterlist: soon..

[azaisya]

tags by @andre5913

Ahhh yes your tags are so good!!! This is like so much of the appeal of this au to me. Like I was blithe about Túrin in my original caption but like idk the idea of this kid w some kind of tragedy in his life (I’m not entirely sure what modern au circumstances lead to his separation from Morwen but like Lalaith’s death is easy enough to keep) also getting the chance to have a normal childhood makes me feel things. Idk like letting him do boring hw assignments and play mtg and bemoan having something as undignified as a crush and having an older sister around who loves him and annoys him and is there for him! How great!

I’m so tickled by the idea of a modern au Lúthien and Túrin growing up at the same time in the same household. Like imagine the shenanigans. Lúthien the straight-A student, the most popular girl in her grade, the one who gets casted as the lead in every school play. And then Túrin is also there

[kpoplustzone]

After Party - Mina Smut

OC X Mina

For More stories Read on Kofi- LINK

Mina was wearing a dress that shimmered under the club's lights, a daring design that plunged low in the front, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. It was a dress that seemed to defy gravity, barely containing her ample breasts, making it appear as if a sudden movement might cause them to spill out. The fabric clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, and she exuded an aura of effortless glamour and confidence that drew the gazes of many around her, fitting perfectly within the stylish backdrop of a fashion week gathering.

Martin, who was sitting opposite her, was completely mesmerized. He couldn’t believe that this incredibly attractive actress, whom he recognized from popular Korean dramas and had even… admired in more intimate moments on screen, was sitting just a few tables away, clearly intoxicated and radiating a captivatingly seductive energy. He glanced around the bar, noticing how other patrons, likely part of the same fashion week events, were discreetly (or not so discreetly) watching her, their gazes drawn to her exposed cleavage and the tantalizing glimpses of her figure.

Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, Martin, whose nametag indicated he was a waiter, decided to seize the moment. He approached her table, a polite smile on his face. In slightly hesitant, broken Korean, he began, “Mina-ssi… another drink?”

Martin could practically taste the opportunity hanging in the air, thick and sweet like the spilled cocktails on the bar counter. Mina’s playful touch and suggestive language were anything but accidental. He watched as she languidly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the simple motion causing her dress to shift, momentarily emphasizing the generous curve of her exposed cleavage and the tantalizing hint of the dark valley between her breasts. Then, as if by instinct, she stretched in her seat, a seemingly casual movement that arched her back and pulled the fabric of her dress taut across her fit and undeniably sexy figure, making her boobs strain against the low neckline as if desperate to escape.

Martin could only swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His gaze involuntarily flickered down to her cleavage, then back up to her insanely beautiful face, trying to maintain eye contact but finding it increasingly difficult. Just the sight of her, so close and so openly flirting, was enough to make his cock harden inside his trousers, a throbbing ache of pure desire blooming in his groin. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, a mixture of nervousness and intense arousal. This was way beyond his usual shift at the bar; this felt like a scene ripped straight from one of the dramas he'd watched her in, only this time, he was playing the lead role, and the stakes were… incredibly high

She giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement at whatever slightly nonsensical thing Martin had just uttered in his nervous excitement. Her smile was radiant, lighting up her face and making the few nearby patrons who were still surreptitiously watching them lean in with even more curiosity. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of anticipation down Martin’s spine, her slender fingers, adorned with delicate rings, left the table and landed on his thigh.

The contact was light at first, a playful tease, but it was enough to send a jolt of pure electricity through Martin's body. Every nerve ending seemed to tingle, and the insistent throbbing of his already hard cock intensified to an almost painful level. He could barely breathe, his focus entirely consumed by the soft warmth of her touch through his trousers. Mina’s gaze, however, remained fixed on his face, a knowing smile playing on her luscious lips. She could feel the immediate tension that shot through him, the barely concealed tremor in his leg. With a playful glint in her eye, her hand began to creep higher, her fingers inching their way up his inner thigh, getting dangerously close to the straining bulge in his pants. Martin’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs. Mina’s smile widened, now undeniably seductive, as her fingers continued their slow ascent, her intention becoming thrillingly clear.

Mina’s touch grew bolder, her smile widening into a knowing leer as her hand fully encompassed the burgeoning hardness straining against the fabric of Martin's trousers. Her fingers, surprisingly firm for their delicate appearance, began to stroke him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, kneading and squeezing through the thin material. Martin’s breath hitched again, a low groan involuntarily escaping his lips. He could feel the heat emanating from her hand, the pressure both arousing and slightly surreal.

Her fingers then began to trace the length of his erection, moving from the thick base upwards to the sensitive tip, then back down again in a tantalizing dance. Mina’s lips curved into a confident smile, her eyes flickering downwards for a brief moment as if visually measuring the length and girth she held captive in her hand. A thrill shot through Martin, a potent mix of disbelief and pure, unadulterated lust. He could barely keep himself from moaning out loud, every stroke of her fingers sending waves of intense pleasure through his body.

Leaning closer, her intoxicatingly sweet breath warm against his ear, Mina whispered in slightly slurred Korean, her voice husky and laced with playful desire, "Oppa... Mina wants what's under your hands... inside Mina." Her words, direct and explicit, sent a jolt of pure electricity through Martin. His cock throbbed against her touch, hard and eager, and he could feel his control slipping away. Mina's hand continued its seductive massage, her words and actions painting a vivid picture of the night ahead, a night that Martin suddenly realized was about to become far more intimate and exciting than he could have ever imagined.

They both slipped away from the tail end of the fashion week event, leaving behind the flashing cameras and chattering crowds. Martin found himself walking a respectful few steps behind Mina as they moved through the hushed, plushly carpeted corridor of a luxurious hotel. Her dress, the same daring number from the bar, now seemed even more provocative in the quieter setting, its every sway and ripple highlighting the exquisite curve of her ass. The way the fabric clung to her figure, the subtle movements of her body beneath it – he took it all in, a silent admirer still struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

Mina reached her hotel room door. She turned, her smile on that incredibly pretty face of hers widening as she caught Martin openly admiring her ass, the curve of her buttocks a tantalizing invitation beneath the shimmering fabric of her dress. A playful glint, hot and knowing, entered her eyes, and she swayed her hips a little more, grinding them subtly, giving him a private, sensual show right there in the hushed hallway. The light fabric of her dress rippled with the movement, clinging and releasing in a way that made his gaze drop and his groin tighten with anticipation.

As they reached her door, her eyes never leaving his, Mina reached out and grabbed Martin’s tie, her fingers tangling in the silk, pulling him closer with a surprising strength that belied her slightly inebriated state. Her smile melted into a look of pure, unadulterated hunger, her lips parting slightly, moist and inviting. She leaned in, her breath warm and scented with champagne against his face, before her mouth crashed against his in a sudden, fierce, and undeniably passionate kiss. It wasn't a gentle, exploratory touch of lips; it was a demanding claiming, her tongue immediately thrusting into his mouth, tangling with his in a wet, primal dance.

Martin’s arms reacted instantly, wrapping around her waist, his hands sliding down to grip the soft curves of her ass beneath the dress, pulling her body flush against his. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the insistent press of her breasts against his chest, the unmistakable hardness of his erection throbbing against her thigh. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more possessive, a silent promise of the explicit pleasures that awaited them just behind that closed door. Her hands left his tie to snake around his neck, her fingers digging into the hair at his nape, pulling him even closer as she moaned softly against his lips, a sound that vibrated with pure desire. The hallway, the fashion week buzz, all faded into the background as their world narrowed to the intense, wet heat of their kiss and the urgent press of their bodies.

Between gasps of their fervent kiss, Mina somehow managed to maneuver her hand, still entangled with Martin's in his tie, to fumble with the hotel room door handle. With a click, the door swung inward, and they stumbled into the dimly lit space, still locked in their passionate embrace. The air in the room felt thick with unspoken desire, a palpable tension that crackled between them.

As they stumbled inside, Mina’s other hand, freed from his tie, slid down his chest, her fingers finding the hard ridge of his erection pressing against his trousers. She began to rub him with a knowing pressure, her strokes long and deliberate, sending shivers of anticipation through Martin. He groaned against her lips, his hands tightening on the soft curves of her ass beneath the slinky fabric of her dress, his thumbs digging in, savoring the feel of her yielding flesh.

The sounds in the room were solely those of their heavy, ragged breathing and the wet, smacking noises of their increasingly frantic kiss. They stumbled further into the room, bumping against furniture, their bodies glued together as if magnetically drawn. Mina’s tongue danced with his, a wild, unrestrained exploration, mirroring the frantic rhythm of their bodies pressed against each other. Martin’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her dress, his palms now sliding against her bare thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her core, the slickness already beginning to form between her legs.

They reached the edge of the king-sized bed, its white sheets a stark contrast to the dark intensity that had enveloped them. With a playful smirk dancing on her lips, Mina gave Martin a gentle push, sending him tumbling back onto the soft mattress with a surprised grunt. Before he could fully register his new horizontal position, she was straddling him, hiking her shimmering dress high above her waist. The sudden flash of her toned thighs, smooth and bare in the dim light, and the tantalizing glimpse of her incredible body beneath the remaining fabric made Martin’s breath catch in his throat.

She positioned herself directly over his still-rigid cock, which was now pressing insistently against the confines of his trousers. With a slow, deliberate movement, she lowered herself, the pressure of her wet heat against his clothed member eliciting a groan from deep within his chest. She didn’t fully sit down, though, instead hovering just above him, her hips rocking slightly, teasing him with the friction.

The feel of Mina’s wetness pressing against his clothed erection was intoxicating, a promise of the deluge to come. She didn't just sit; she ground her hips gently against his hard-on, the friction sending jolts of pure, raw pleasure through Martin’s body. He groaned, his hands instinctively reaching up to grip her bare thighs, his fingers digging into the smooth, toned muscle, savoring the feel of her heat radiating through his touch.

Mina’s fingers continued their slow, torturous journey down his shirt, each tiny click of an unfastened button a countdown to complete exposure. Her nails grazed his skin, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. As the fabric of his shirt parted, revealing glimpses of his toned chest, rippled with lean muscle, she leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. “You’re so hard for me, oppa,” she whispered, her voice husky with barely contained lust. “I can feel you throbbing against my… dress.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest, and she ran a finger across his sculpted pectoral muscle, tracing the hard definition. Her touch was light but deliberate, teasing him mercilessly as she continued to grind her hips against his erection through his pants. Martin’s breath hitched, his eyes locked on her face, a silent plea for her to hurry. He could feel the heat building within him, a desperate need to feel her naked skin against his. “Mina…” he managed to gasp out, his voice thick with desire.

She chuckled softly, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against his chest. “Patience, oppa,” she purred, her fingers now playing with the light trail of hair that led down his defined abdomen, the hard lines of his abs flexing subtly with each movement. “Good things… take time.” But her eyes held a mischievous glint, a promise that the wait wouldn’t be long. With a final, lingering touch on the last button, his shirt fell open completely, revealing his toned torso, the hard planes of his abs now fully visible to her hungry gaze. Mina lowered her head, her lips now tracing a wet path down his sternum, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin, her gaze fixed on the hard ridges of his stomach, driving Martin absolutely wild with anticipation. The scent of her perfume, mixed with the lingering aroma of champagne and the raw, animalistic scent of their arousal, filled the air, creating an intoxicating sensory overload.

Mina abandoned his lips, her gaze dropping with undisguised hunger to his bare chest. Her tongue flicked out, tracing a wet path across his sculpted pectoral muscle, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake. Martin’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening on her smooth thighs as a wave of pure sensation washed over him. Her mouth was soft and warm, her lips lightly sucking on his skin, sending electric jolts straight to his groin.

She continued her slow descent, her kisses becoming more deliberate, more intimate. She laved the skin over his ribs, her hands sliding down his torso, following the hard lines of his obliques. He could feel the heat emanating from her, the intoxicating scent of her perfume mingling with the musky aroma of their arousal. Every touch, every lick, was a deliberate act of seduction, designed to drive him wild with anticipation.

Her mouth reached his abdomen, her tongue now exploring the defined ridges of his abs. She pressed her lips against the hard muscles, sucking gently, making them flex beneath her touch. Martin groaned, his head falling back against the plush pillows, his body arching slightly as pleasure coursed through him. He had never experienced anything quite like this, the raw sensuality of her mouth on his body igniting a firestorm of desire within him.

Mina’s hands continued their exploration, one sliding down his side, tracing the curve of his hip, while the other remained teasingly close to the waistband of his trousers, her fingertips occasionally brushing against the hard bulge beneath. She knew exactly what she was doing, building the tension, drawing out his anticipation.

Her lips finally reached the waistband of his pants, her warm breath ghosting over the straining fabric just above his engorged cock. She paused there for a torturous moment, her tongue flicking out once more, tasting the fabric as if savoring the promise of what lay beneath. Martin’s hands tightened on her thighs, his knuckles white. “Mina…” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with barely contained desire.

With a playful smile that promised even more delights, she shifted her position slightly, her lips now pressing directly against the hard outline of his cock through his pants. She licked the fabric slowly, deliberately, the wet heat seeping through the material, making him gasp. Her hands on his hips began to grind her own wetness against his still-clothed erection, the friction eliciting a low moan from deep within her throat.

She continued her sensual assault, her mouth now sucking gently through the fabric, her teeth lightly grazing his hardness. The sensations were almost unbearable, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and agonizing anticipation. Martin’s body was trembling uncontrollably, every nerve ending screaming for release. Mina, clearly enjoying his torment, continued her slow, deliberate exploration, savoring every groan and gasp she elicited from him as she tasted the toned muscles just above his straining cock, her actions a blatant declaration of her intent to claim every inch of him. The air in the hotel room crackled with unspoken desires, the dim light casting long shadows that danced with their intertwined forms on the bed.

With a final, teasing lick just above the waistband, Mina’s fingers finally found the button and zipper of Martin’s trousers. Her movements were deft and knowing, practiced hands that seemed to revel in the task. The fabric parted slowly, revealing the thick head of his hard cock straining against the confines of his underwear. Mina paused for a moment, her gaze locking onto his with a triumphant smirk before she gently pushed the remaining fabric down, finally freeing his engorged member.

Martin’s cock sprang free, thick and hard, pulsing with anticipation. Mina’s breath hitched as she took in its full length, her eyes widening slightly with undisguised admiration. It stood proud and erect, a testament to the intense arousal he was experiencing. With a soft sigh, she reached out, her fingers gently encircling the base, the warmth of her touch instantly sending a jolt of pure pleasure through him. He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as she began her teasing assault.

Her touch was feather-light at first, her fingers just grazing the smooth skin of his shaft, exploring its length with delicate strokes. She ran her thumb along the underside, teasing the sensitive frenulum, making Martin’s hips twitch involuntarily. He moaned, a deep, guttural sound that rumbled in his chest. Mina’s smile widened, clearly enjoying the power she held over him.

Her grip tightened slightly, and she began to stroke him with more deliberate movements, her hand sliding up and down his shaft, the friction creating a delicious heat. She varied her touch, sometimes firm and demanding, other times light and teasing, always keeping him on the edge of his control. Her fingers danced around the swollen head, sometimes gently squeezing, sometimes just tracing the delicate ridge.

She brought her face closer, her warm breath caressing his sensitive tip. Martin’s eyes fluttered open, and he watched, mesmerized, as her tongue flicked out, just barely touching the head of his cock. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver of pure ecstasy through his entire body. He groaned louder this time, his fingers gripping her thighs even tighter.

Mina chuckled softly, a seductive sound that vibrated against his skin. “You like that, oppa?” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She then took the head of his cock into her mouth, sucking gently at first, her lips warm and moist. Martin’s breath caught in his throat, his body tensing as pleasure exploded through him. He could feel the frantic beat of his heart, the blood rushing to his head.

She increased the pressure, her mouth now engulfing the entire head of his cock, her tongue dancing around it, teasing and tantalizing. Martin moaned again, a long, drawn-out sound of pure bliss. His hips began to lift off the bed involuntarily, seeking more of the incredible sensation. Mina continued her ministrations, her hand still stroking the length of his shaft, creating a symphony of sensations that was driving him absolutely wild.

She pulled back slightly, her lips glistening with his pre-cum. Her eyes locked with his, a knowing smile on her face. “Just getting started, oppa,” she purred, before lowering her head once more, her mouth reopening to claim him again, her teasing touch promising even more exquisite torment and pleasure to come. Martin could only groan, completely at her mercy, lost in the intoxicating sensations she was so expertly delivering. The night was just beginning, and he had a feeling it was going to be one he would never, ever forget

Slowly, deliberately, Mina released her hold on Martin’s hard cock. Her eyes, dark and shimmering with desire, never left his as she stood up with a languid grace that spoke of practiced seduction. Her movements were slow, each one a tease, a deliberate unveiling of the beauty he had only glimpsed moments before.

She reached a hand up, her slender fingers tracing the delicate line of her collarbone as she slowly slid the strap of her dress off her shoulder. The shimmering fabric, which had so recently clung to every curve, began its descent, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin underneath. The dress slipped down her arm, pooling momentarily at her elbow before cascading down her torso. Martin’s gaze followed its progress, his breath catching in his throat with each inch of skin revealed.

The dress reached her waist, and she paused, her hips swaying slightly, the movement causing the fabric to tease the curve of her buttocks. Then, with a final, lingering look at Martin, a soft smile playing on her lips, she let it fall to the floor in a silken heap, leaving her completely naked before him.

Martin’s eyes drank in the sight of her. Her breasts, freed from the constraint of a bra, stood high and proud, the nipples dark and erect, their tips puckered with anticipation. They were perfectly shaped, full and round, and they bounced ever so slightly with her movements, captivating his gaze. Her torso was sleek and toned, the gentle curve of her waist leading down to her slightly flared hips. The light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows over her skin, highlighting the exquisite lines of her body.

His gaze drifted lower, past the delicate curve of her stomach, and he noticed the dark patch of hair at the apex of her thighs, framing her swollen lips. And then he saw it – her panties, a scrap of lace barely clinging to her hips, were visibly soaked, a testament to the intense arousal he had already elicited from her. The evidence of her desire was blatant, undeniable, and it sent another jolt of pure lust through Martin.

Mina, observing his reaction, the unmistakable twitch of his still-erect cock straining against his open trousers, let out a soft, knowing chuckle. Her smile widened, a mixture of triumph and playful invitation in her eyes. She ran a hand down her own body, her fingers tracing the line of her collarbone, down between her breasts, over her flat stomach, and finally settling on the wet patch between her legs. Her gaze remained locked with Martin’s, a silent promise of the shared pleasures that were yet to come. The air in the room crackled with unspoken desires, the anticipation hanging heavy and thick, waiting to be broken by touch. She took a slow, deliberate step towards the bed, her naked body a beacon in the dim light, her eyes telling him that the real fun was just about to begin.

With a sinuous grace, Mina climbed onto the bed, her naked form a breathtaking vision in the soft light. Her fingers trailed down her thighs, reaching for the delicate lace of her now-soaked panties, and with a playful flick, she tossed them onto the bedside table, the small, damp garment a testament to her heightened state of arousal.

She then positioned herself directly over Martin, straddling his prone body with a confidence that was both alluring and intensely erotic. Her toned legs framed his torso, her bare thighs pressing against his still-clothed legs. She leaned forward, her perfectly sculpted body arching slightly, bringing her wet, swollen vagina tantalizingly close to his mouth. Simultaneously, her beautiful face, her lips already glistening from his pre-cum, hovered just inches above his thick, hard cock.

Martin’s breath hitched. He was gazing at the promised land, the very source of her pleasure now displayed so openly, so invitingly before him. Her lips were parted, the delicate folds slick and swollen, glistening with her natural lubrication. He could see the frantic pulse of her inner muscles, a silent invitation to taste her, to explore the depths of her desire. His senses were overwhelmed by the sight, the intoxicating scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. He felt an almost primal urge to bury his face between her thighs and lose himself in her sweetness, to please this Korean goddess in a way that would leave her utterly breathless and begging for more.

But Mina had her own plans. With a bold move, she lowered her head further, her eyes locking with Martin’s for a fleeting moment, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as if daring him to try and take control. Then, with a practiced ease that hinted at a comfortable familiarity with such acts, she opened her mouth and slowly, deliberately, took the head of his engorged penis between her lips.

They began slowly, a dance of simultaneous pleasure. Mina sucked on Martin, her tongue tracing the length of his shaft, her lips creating a firm pressure that sent shivers down his spine. Martin, in turn, laved Mina’s swollen clitoris, his tongue flicking rhythmically, savoring the sweet, potent nectar of her arousal.

As their confidence grew, their pace quickened. Mina’s mouth worked Martin’s cock with increasing fervor, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper, her moans mingling with his ragged breaths. Martin’s tongue danced over every inch of Mina’s vulva, exploring the delicate folds and the slick depths, eliciting cries of pure ecstasy from her. Her hips began to buck against his mouth, urging him closer, deeper, while her hands tightened in his hair, guiding him to her most sensitive spots.

The air in the room crackled with their shared intensity, the sounds of their simultaneous oral pleasure echoing in the stillness. Mina’s soft whimpers and moans blended with Martin’s gasps and groans, creating a symphony of pure, unadulterated lust. They were lost in the moment, each focused on pleasuring the other, their bodies intertwined in a tangle of limbs and escalating desire. The taste of her sweet juices on his tongue, the feel of her hot mouth on his cock – it was a sensory overload, driving them both closer and closer to the brink of release.

Their mutual pleasure reached its peak, a crescendo of moans and gasps filling the hotel room. Just as Martin felt the intense contractions building within him, Mina’s body beneath him began to tremble violently, her cries escalating into a series of high-pitched shrieks. Her wetness flowed freely around his mouth, a final surge of pure ecstasy.

And then, the dam broke for Martin. A powerful wave of sensation washed over him, and he shot a large, thick load deep into Mina’s mouth. Without hesitation, her throat worked, and she swallowed every last drop, her eyes fluttering closed in a blissful surrender. At the same instant, Mina’s orgasm reached its zenith. Her body arched off the bed, her muscles spasming as she came onto Martin’s face, her warm, slick juices spraying across his skin, her cries echoing her intense release. She writhed and trembled beneath him, completely consumed by the waves of pleasure washing over her.

Both of them lay there, slick with sweat, their breathing still ragged from their shared climax. But the glistening sheen on Mina’s skin, catching the dim light of the bedside lamp, only amplified her allure in Martin’s eyes. The dampness seemed to cling to her every curve, making her look even more like a goddess sculpted from glistening bronze. A stray drop of his semen still clung to her lower lip, a potent reminder of their recent intimacy, and the sight of it instantly sent a surge of renewed desire coursing through him. His cock, which had softened in the aftermath of his orgasm, began to stir again, hardening with a renewed urgency at the sight of her naked beauty and the tangible evidence of their shared pleasure.

Mina, sensing the shift in his body, a knowing smile gracing her lips, slowly climbed up his torso. Her wet skin slid against his, the friction arousing them both further. She positioned herself directly over his now fully erect cock, her gaze locked on his as she guided the hard tip with her fingers, her swollen lips already wet and eager. Martin watched, mesmerized, as she prepared to take him inside her once more. The sight of her, glistening with sweat and his seed, straddling him, was almost too much to bear, a fantasy brought vividly to life.

Taking a deep breath, Mina began to lower herself onto him, her movements slow and deliberate, giving Martin ample time to savor the anticipation. He watched as her wet vulva, still slick from her recent orgasm, came into contact with the head of his throbbing cock. The initial point of contact sent a jolt of pure electricity through both of them.

As she descended further, Martin was surprised by the incredible tightness of her. Despite their previous intense encounters, her inner muscles clenched around him with a fierce grip, making him gasp at the intensity of the sensation. It was a snug fit, almost too tight, and Mina could only inch her way down, her muscles working hard to accommodate his full length. She grunted softly with the effort, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as she slowly sheathed him, millimeter by agonizing millimeter.

Martin lay beneath her, his breath held captive in his chest, his senses overwhelmed by the feeling of her incredibly tight vagina enveloping his cock. It was a sensation unlike anything he had experienced before, a visceral connection that went beyond mere physical pleasure. He could feel every ridge, every nerve ending of his penis being caressed by her internal grip.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mina reached her limit, her body fully impaled on his hard cock. A gasp escaped her lips, her head thrown back, her long, wet hair cascading down her back. Her eyes squeezed shut, and a low, guttural moan of pure sensation rumbled in her chest. She remained still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being completely filled by him, her tight pussy clenching rhythmically around his engorged member.

Martin could feel the warmth and wetness surrounding him, the incredible pressure almost intoxicating. He instinctively arched his back, pushing deeper inside her, reveling in the perfect fit. Their bodies were now intimately connected, slick with sweat and desire, a perfect union forged in the heat of their passionate encounter. Mina leaned forward, her damp breasts pressing against his chest, her heart pounding against his. The silence in the room was broken only by their ragged breathing and the occasional soft moan of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

With a low moan that vibrated against Martin’s chest, Mina began to ride him. Her movements were initially tentative, a gentle rocking back and forth as she familiarized herself with the feeling of his thick cock deep inside her incredibly tight vagina. But as the pleasure began to build, her pace quickened, her hips grinding against his with increasing fervor.

Martin watched, mesmerized, as her naked body moved above him. The glistening sheen of sweat emphasized every curve and muscle, her breasts swaying with each up and down motion, the dark tips of her nipples brushing against his chest, sending sparks of sensation through him. Her head was thrown back, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy, her lips parted as she let out soft, breathy moans that filled the room. The sight of this internationally famous actress, this Korean goddess whose face adorned magazines and billboards, riding him with such uninhibited passion was almost surreal. He could only imagine the millions of men in her home country who would give anything for just a glimpse of her, let alone to see her completely naked and being pleasured so intensely by a simple waiter from another land.

Mina’s rhythm became more insistent, her hips now moving with a frantic energy. She would ride him high, arching her back as she rose, the head of his cock almost slipping free before she plunged back down, taking his full length deep inside her with a gasp of pure delight. Each downward thrust sent a wave of intense sensation through Martin, the feeling of her tight, wet vagina gripping his shaft almost unbearable in its pleasure. He could feel her inner muscles clenching around him, milking him with every movement, and he knew she was experiencing a pleasure she had rarely, if ever, known before. Her cries became louder, more unrestrained, as she rode him harder and faster, her body completely consumed by the escalating sensations. “Oh, fuck… oppa… you feel so good… so big,” she gasped out between moans, her words a testament to the intense pleasure he was giving her.

Martin, feeling his own desire reaching a fever pitch, gripped Mina’s hips, his hands sinking into the slick flesh of her thighs. He began to thrust upwards, meeting her downward ride with a powerful force, their bodies moving together in a primal rhythm. Each upward surge of his cock deep inside her elicited a fresh wave of ecstatic cries from Mina, her head falling back as she surrendered completely to the sensation.

As they fucked with increasing intensity, Martin’s hands left her hips and moved to cup her full, sweat-slick breasts. He squeezed them firmly, his thumbs teasing the hard, erect nipples, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Mina. She leaned forward, her lips crashing against his in a desperate, hungry kiss. Their tongues tangled together, a wet and frantic dance mirroring the rhythm of their hips. The kiss grew more intense with each thrust, their mouths devouring each other as they rode the waves of pleasure.

Mina’s moans became louder, more unrestrained, as Martin’s powerful thrusts combined with his expert handling of her breasts. She would pull back slightly, her eyes locking with his, filled with a raw, untamed desire, before slamming down onto his cock again with a force that made them both cry out. Her hands, still gripping his shoulders, tightened with each intense movement, her body completely consumed by the escalating sensations. The sounds of their passionate coupling – the wet slap of their skin against skin, their ragged breathing, and their unrestrained cries of pleasure – filled the hotel room, a testament to the raw, unadulterated lust that had consumed them both

Their rhythm intensified, a frantic dance of pure, unadulterated lust. Mina’s riding became more aggressive, her hips bucking against Martin’s with a primal energy, her moans echoing through the room. Martin matched her intensity, thrusting deeply inside her with a forceful rhythm, his hard cock pounding against her cervix with each upward surge. Their sweat-slicked bodies slapped together, the sounds of their coupling a raw and visceral symphony of pleasure.

Mina’s kisses grew more demanding, her teeth nipping at Martin’s lips as she sucked on his tongue with a fierce hunger. Her hands left his shoulders and trailed down his chest, her nails lightly scratching his skin, sending shivers of delight through him. She would occasionally break the kiss to gasp out his name, her voice thick with passion, before plunging her mouth back onto his.

Martin’s hands continued to explore her breasts, his fingers kneading and squeezing the soft flesh, his thumbs circling her hard nipples until they were taut and aching for more. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his chest, a wild drumbeat mirroring the frenetic pace of their lovemaking. He arched his back, thrusting deeper and harder into her, reveling in the feeling of her tight, wet vagina gripping him so fiercely.

“You feel so good, Mina,” Martin groaned, his voice hoarse with exertion and desire. “So fucking tight.”

“Oh, oppa…” she gasped, her body shuddering with pleasure as he hit her sweet spot again and again. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

Their frenzied rhythm reached a fever pitch, their bodies locked together in a desperate race towards the ultimate release. Mina’s cries became almost animalistic, her back arching as she rode Martin with every ounce of strength she possessed. Martin’s thrusts were deep and powerful, his cock pounding into her with a relentless force that made them both gasp. The wet sounds of their frantic coupling echoed loudly in the hotel room, a testament to their raw, unadulterated passion.

Suddenly, Mina’s body stiffened, her muscles clenching fiercely around Martin’s shaft. A series of sharp, ecstatic cries ripped from her throat as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her. At the same moment, Martin felt an overwhelming surge of sensation building within him. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and he let out a guttural roar as he emptied his load deep inside her, his thick semen pulsing into her tight, contracting vagina.

They both froze for a moment, suspended in the aftershocks of their earth-shattering climax. Mina collapsed forward onto Martin’s chest, her body still trembling with the force of her orgasm. Martin held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her sweaty back, his own body still shuddering from the intense release. Their breathing was ragged and shallow, their hearts pounding in unison.

Slowly, their frantic movements subsided. Mina lifted her head, her face flushed and her eyes glazed with a blissful haze. A contented sigh escaped her lips as she nestled back down onto Martin’s chest, their sweat-soaked bodies clinging together. They lay there for a long moment, exhausted but completely satisfied, the only sounds in the room their heavy breathing and the occasional soft murmur of contentment. The passionate storm had finally passed, leaving them both drained, sweaty, and utterly spent in the aftermath of their explosive simultaneous climax.

The morning light filtering through the hotel window gently nudged Martin awake. His eyes fluttered open, and a soft smile immediately touched his lips as he remembered the incredible night he had just shared. He turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat. Mina was standing by the vanity, her back to him, a plush white bathrobe loosely tied around her waist. But the knot was precariously low, revealing the enticing curve of her bare back and hinting at the delectable view that lay ahead. With every subtle movement as she brushed her hair, the robe would shift, offering fleeting glimpses of her side, the smooth line of her hip, and the tantalizing swell of her breasts.

Martin watched her, still feeling a pleasant ache in his muscles and a lingering warmth in his heart. The memory of her passionate cries and the feel of her body wrapped around his flooded his senses. He was still slightly dazed, finding it hard to believe that he had spent the night with this incredibly famous and beautiful woman.

Mina turned around, a bright and cheerful smile on her face, her hair now cascading over her shoulders. She adjusted the tie of her bathrobe, perhaps slightly more securely now that she was facing him, though it still left plenty to the imagination. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, her voice soft and slightly husky from sleep.

"Morning," Martin managed to reply, his voice still a bit rough. He pushed himself up against the pillows, his gaze lingering on her.

She walked over to the bedside table, picking up a bottle of water and taking a sip. "I have to stay in the city for another three days for some more fashion events and photoshoots," she said, her eyes meeting his. She paused for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. "And I might need a… personal assistant for these next three days. Someone to keep her company, show her around a bit, and make sure she doesn't get too lonely." Her gaze flickered down to him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Would you be interested in the position, Martin-ssi?"

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[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.iii

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi

summary: As Jenna becomes more entwined in your life, you find yourself pulled deeper into the high-stakes world of racing—looks like you've got yourself your first race.

word count: 8.4k

————

The garage is usually alive with the hum of engines, the clank of tools, and the scattered voices of the crew. Everyone has their own rhythm here, groups within the crew naturally falling into place as they work on separate projects. But today is different. As soon as you walk in, you notice the shift.

The crew is huddled around Anton who has his phone out, their laughter cutting through the usual noise. You can't see what's on the screen from where you stand, but whatever it is, it's got everyone's attention. Curiosity pulls you in closer, your brow furrowing.

As you approach, Anton's voice carries over the group, smooth and teasing. "And here she is, looking all serious and focused... but wait for it..."

The guys chuckle, and you stop in your tracks, confused. You can't quite make out what's on the screen yet, but the way they're talking—it feels weirdly intimate. You shake your head, taking a few more steps forward, trying to get a look.

Anton continues, now with a mocking tenderness. "Right there! Look at that—I believe that's what we call young love, folks."

The laughter rises again, and something clicks. A sinking feeling erupts in your stomach. Heart racing, you push through the crowd until you finally see the screen. Your heart skips.

It's you. And her. Jenna.

There it is—your encounter in the garage yesterday. The split-second moment when you locked eyes with her, the subtle smirk she flashed your way. The way your hand wrapped over hers as she was holding the wrench. It all plays out on the surveillance screen, frozen in time, but somehow magnified, more intimate than you even remember.

Shit.

"Awh, my little Y/n's all grown up," Anton coos, not missing a beat as he notices you standing there now. His voice is laced with smugness. "Didn't know you had it in you."

You clench your jaw, "Shut up, Anton."

"Oh, come on! It's cute," one of the guys calls out, nudging you as if this whole situation isn't embarrassing. "A girl like that?" another crew member hollers with a whistle. "She's no Brimstoner, that's for sure. Where'd you find her, Y/n?"

As you look around you notice that everyone is looking at you with curiosity. You let out a breath. It seems like no one was able to recognize Jenna from the race. No one knows she's from Summer Valley—that she's a Viper.

"It's not what it looks like," you mumble, trying to sound indifferent.

Anton lets out a low laugh. "Sure it's not. Admit it, you've got yourself a girl now."

The teasing hits deeper than it should, and you feel your heart pounding. They're all grinning, eating this up, but for you, it's just a reminder—you still haven't texted her. Despite knowing your answer, you weren't sure when it was appropriate to text her, it's only been about 12 hours since you dropped the girl off at her home. And you were dreading seeing her again.

"Alright, alright, enough about Y/n's mystery girl. Everyone, get back to work!" Anton says, half-joking but with a playful edge. "I need a word with my cousin."

The rest of the crew grumbles as they scatter, returning to their tasks. Anton slings an arm around your shoulder, guiding you over to the car you'd stolen the night before.

"Market value on this baby is through the roof," he says, his fingers trailing along the sleek metal. "You probably won't need to work for a while after this score."

"Yeah," you reply, your mind already preparing for the real reason Anton pulled you aside.

"So... who's the girl?"

Who is she? The question lingers, heavier than you'd like to admit. What could you even tell him when you didn't fully know yourself?

"She's just someone I met at a pub a while back," you lie smoothly.

Anton clutches his chest dramatically. "You're hitting up pubs without me now? I thought we did everything together!"

"It was after one of my sales," you say, rolling your eyes. "I needed to unwind, grabbed a drink, and met her. Simple as that."

He raises an eyebrow, grinning knowingly. "I've never seen a Brimstoner that looked like that."

"She's not from Brimstone," you say quickly, the words tumbling out. "She's from... Ridgewater."

"Ridgewater, huh?" Anton mutters, as if that explains everything. "So, she your girlfriend?"

The question catches you off guard, heat creeping up your neck and flooding your cheeks. You'd been battling that blush since you stepped into the garage, memories of the night before playing on a loop in your mind. Everything about her made your pulse quicken. The thought of being her girlfriend... it sent a jolt of excitement through you, one you weren't quite ready to face. It was too early to sort out your feelings, but you couldn't deny she was stunning, and the pull between you both was undeniable. The lingering glances, the teasing banter, the subtle touches—there was a chemistry brewing between you two that you couldn't ignore.

"We're just... talking," you reply, though a small part of you wonders why you didn't just say she was a friend. Too late now.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" you ask, eager to change the subject.

"It's actually about your girl's ends," Anton begins, leaning in. "I've got some friends from Ridgewater in town, and they're looking for a friendly race with our club."

You raise a brow, not quite sure why this involved you.

"I, uh, might've mentioned your name for a race against one of their drivers," he admits, mumbling the last part under his breath.

"Anton, what the hell?!" you snap.

"Come on! It's just for fun—one race, no big deal. No stakes. You don't even have to wear a Sinner jacket."

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to keep calm, but you still end up rambling. "Anton, you know how I feel about this stuff. I... I still don't even know what I want. I've never raced before. I'm going to suck."

"You could lose by an hour, and I wouldn't care," he says with a shrug. "I just want you to give it a shot, Y/n. Like I said, no stakes—just a little friendly racing."

You sigh, unsure but softening. "I'll think about it."

Anton nods, clearly taking your indecision as progress. A week ago, you would've shot him down without a second thought. "Race is in a week today, 7 p.m., same spot as last time," he says, already walking off with a wave.

He stops just before he reaches the other end of the garage, turning back with a grin. "Oh, and invite your girl! Bet she'll find it hot!"

And just like that, your cheeks burn again.

You blame your inexperience with girls for how easily your cheeks betray you. It's just embarrassment, that's all. Now, you're apparently faking a relationship and have a race tomorrow. Perfect.

Needing to clear your head, you turn toward your workbench, ready to lose yourself in modifications to the car you'd stolen. But the moment you pick up the wrench, an involuntary smile stretches across your face.

"Oh, you've got it bad," a familiar voice chuckles behind you.

You groan, not again. Bracing yourself for another round of teasing, you turn around only to feel a sense of relief wash over you. It's just Hunter.

Hunter always seemed out of place among the crew. He was too pure to be mixed up in Brimstone—too decent. But everyone had their reasons for being here.

"You're lucky no one recognized her," he whispers, stepping up beside you.

"W-what?" you stammer, caught off guard.

"I was right next to you at the Vipers' race, remember?"

Your eyes widen, your heart rate kicking up a notch as you realize he knew who—or rather what Jenna was. Although you trust Hunter, it only takes one slip for the crew to find out about your association with a Viper.

"Relax, my lips are sealed," he says with a reassuring smile. "You were practically making heart eyes at her the whole race though—hard not to notice."

"I was not watching her like that!" you protest, maybe too quickly.

"Uh-huh, and I'm not gay. Come on, Y/n/n, let's not lie."

You drop the wrench and face him, unsure of why he was so accepting of this. "You don't think it's weird that she's a Viper? We're supposed to be, like... sworn enemies!"

Hunter smirks. "Please. That's half the thrill, isn't it? And since when have you ever avoided doing something just because it's 'not allowed'?"

You both glance at the car you stole and burst into laughter.

"We're not dating," you start. "I wouldn't even say we're friends. Last night was the first time I saw her again since the race, and that's what you saw on the camera footage." You find yourself admitting more than you planned to, trusting the older guy more than you expected.

"Do you want to date her?" Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" You blurt out, way too fast.

Hunter just narrows his eyes, giving you that look. "I thought we agreed no more lying."

You fumble for words. "I-I mean, I don't even know her! I've known her for what, four hours? Sure, she's beautiful—okay, really beautiful—but that doesn't mean I'm thinking about a relationship." You pause, trying to gather your thoughts. "Besides, I've got a lot going on right now. You know that."

"You and your excuses," Hunter sighs. "When are you going to start living for yourself? I care about you like a little sister, and you need to take chances before you regret it. If you keep waiting for the 'perfect time,' you'll just end up with a bunch of what-ifs. If you don't know what you want, how will you ever find out if you don't try?"

This is the third person to lecture you about your life choices and philosophy in the span of two weeks. Anton, Jenna, and now Hunter. Clearly you were doing something wrong if more than one person has called you out on it.

"Alright, I want to—I want to get to know her," you finally manage to say. "I should probably text her, right?"

"She gave you her number?" Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod. "Yeah, last night. But it's only been 12 hours, I don't want to seem desperate."

"Oh my god, text her, you idiot!"

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pull out your phone, search for Jenna's name, but you couldn't find her number. You go to your recently added numbers and smile at the name she saved herself as: Your Favourite Viper. You send her a text.

"What'd you say?" Hunter asks leaning closer taking a look at your screen.

"Hey? You fucking just said 'hey'?" He looks at you incredulously. "I thought lesbians were supposed to move fast. At this rate you'll maybe get a hug in a couple years."

Before you can fire back, your phone lights up, showing an incoming call.

"Holy shit," you mutter, eyes darting to Hunter in panic.

"Answer it! Oh my god, see what she wants!" he whispers urgently, practically vibrating with excitement.

You stare as her name flashes across the screen with shaky hands. It was just another call. Just another girl. Why are you so nervous?

You take a breath and answer. "Hello?"

"Hey Greaser! You busy right now?"

Even though the phone isn't on speaker, Hunter's glued to your side, frantically shaking his head and mouthing, No! Say no! His exaggerated hand gestures make you laugh.

You laugh at how insane he looks. "No, I'm free. What's up?"

"Great. Meet me at Birch and 49th."

"Why? What's happeni—"

Before you could finish your sentence you're caught off by a beep, indicating the call ended. "Anddd she hung up," you sigh.

"I like her," Hunter grins. "She's got moxie."

"Where even is Birch and 49th?" you ask, frowning.

"Hold on, I got you." He pulls out his phone, tapping around for a moment. "That's weird. It's a shopping mall in Summer Valley."

"A mall?" you echo, confused. "Is she taking me shopping. What the fuck?"

The older guy laughs and shrugs. "No one told you to go after a girl from Summer Valley."

"I'm not going after anything."

"Sure you're not," he teases, smirking. "Yet, you're still heading to this mall. Sounds like you're going after her."

You flip him off with a grin as you walk away.

"Keep me posted, Greaser!" he calls out, teasing.

You shake your head, already feeling the nerves returning. If you're really going to meet Jenna, you need to pull it together.

You decide it's best to meet Jenna with some leverage—maybe some news on Percy.

You spot Anton deep in conversation with Madison, just like the day of the race against the Vipers.

"Yo, Ant! I'm heading out!" you call, interrupting them without a second thought. You weren't in the mood for formalities.

Both of them turn, startled by your sudden presence. There's something off about them—stressed, maybe? Anton looks angry, but whatever flash of frustration you thought you saw vanishes quickly. "Oh, hey. Where you headed?" he asks, casual but guarded.

"Just heading to the Valley to look for some parts," you lie smoothly, keeping your story close to the truth. No need to risk getting caught if someone actually sees you at the mall.

Anton nods, signaling the end of the conversation, but you're not done yet. You clear your throat. "Actually, speaking of Summer Valley, what's the deal with that Percy guy?"

Anton's brow furrows, and Madison gives you a curious look. "I saw him at the race," you explain with a shrug, trying to play it off casually. "He just gave off a bad vibe, like he was up to no good or something."

The tension between them is palpable, but neither of them dives into it. Anton brushes it off, saying, "He's just a dumbass."

At the same time, Madison leans in with, "What'd you see?"

You turn to Madison, sensing she might let something slip. "He was talking to someone. It looked... heated?"

"Georgie," she whispers under her breath, barely loud enough for you to catch. But you do.

Before you can ask more, Anton steps in, commanding the conversation, clearly trying to shift focus. "Look, Y/n, he's bad news. I don't know what those Vipers get up to in their little after-school club, but I don't want you getting involved, okay? Vipers are trouble. Stay clear of them."

"Yeah, don't worry," you reassure him, hiding the fact that you're about to meet up with one very soon.

Suddenly Hunter's words echo in your head again: If you don't know what you want, how will you ever find out if you don't try? He was right. And now, you figure the best way to shift the conversation is by dropping a bombshell of your own.

"I'll do the race," you say, throwing out the unexpected decision.

Anton's eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell that you've just given him the perfect distraction from Percy and the Vipers.

————

As you start your drive, you can't help but notice the streets are teeming with more drugged-up souls than usual. Young, old—it didn't seem to matter; the drug epidemic in Brimstone spared no one. A familiar ache settles in your chest as you watch people you once called neighbors and classmates wander aimlessly, trapped in their addiction. It was an all-too-common escape in this town—a place where ambition had no room to grow, where dreams were crushed before they even started. The further you get out of Brimstone, the fewer of them you see, like the weight of the city's decay is gradually lifting.

You pull into the bustling parking lot of the mall, the engine's rumble fading as you find a spot near the back. It's just past 6 p.m., and the place is alive with activity. Cars are circling for spaces, people weave in and out of stores, and teenagers being obnoxious. You check your phone—Birch and 49th, just like Jenna said.

Your eyes scan the area for any sign of her, but there's no sight of Jenna. You cut the engine, but the adrenaline from knowing you're about to see her again hums under your skin.

The evening air is cool as you step out, leaning against the side of your car, trying not to seem too anxious. You check your phone again—no new messages, no calls. Maybe you should text her and let her know you're here.

Before you can even unlock your phone, the sound of soft footsteps approaching catches your attention. Instinctively, you straighten up, your eyes tracing the sleek black loafers in front of you. Slowly, you lift your gaze, and there she is—Jenna. That same confident smirk that's been etched into your mind since the last time you saw her.

She's wearing a flowy brown skirt paired with a black cashmere sweater, looking almost... harmless?

"You done checking me out?" she teases.

Your eyes snap up to meet hers. Despite her bold words, you catch the faint blush colouring her cheeks, and you can't help but hope it's because of you, not the cool evening breeze.

"Yeah, I am," you shoot back with a smirk, holding her gaze confidently.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles whilst doing so. "Alright Casanova, come on," she starts walking away from you, and you follow with no hesitation.

"Wait we're actually going to the mall?" You ask confused, as she leads you both to one of the entrances.

"Yes? Why else would I call you here. Tonight, I'm taking you shopping."

You didn't actually think she called you to go shopping.  You were only joking when you said that to Hunter.  Yet here you are.

You blink at her, caught completely off guard. "Shopping?"

"Yeah," she laughs, walking into the mall. "Come on, you'll need to keep up."

You follow her lead, trying to figure out how shopping was part of her plan to one-up Percy. A race? Sure. A late-night coffee run? Maybe. But shopping? This was a curveball.

"You're taking me shopping?" you ask again, almost incredulous.

"Yeah," she repeats with a teasing look. "You need a better jacket. That one's not cutting it."

You glance down at your worn-out jacket. It's not exactly new, but it's comfortable. "What's wrong with my jacket?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, her eyes flicking over you, clearly enjoying this. "But I want to see you in something that fits my vibe.  Something that makes you look like you're not from Brimstone."

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're unsure how to respond.  The idea of her buying you something feels... strange.  It wasn't like you needed new clothes—especially not from some fancy Summer Valley mall.  Your jacket was fine, and if it wasn't, you'd handle it.  But the fact that she wants to spend money on you?  It makes your stomach twist.  You couldn't help but wonder if she saw you as some kind of charity case—a girl from Brimstone who couldn't afford to keep up with her polished lifestyle.

You didn't want to be a project for her, someone she could mold to fit her world.  The thought makes you feel a bit defensive, but you swallow it down, not wanting to ruin the moment.  You glance at her again, her playful expression making it harder to argue.  Maybe this wasn't a charity thing.  Maybe she just liked you.

Still, it felt...weird.

You roll your eyes but can't help the smirk tugging at your lips. "So, what, you're my personal stylist now?"

She grins. "Maybe."

The two of you wander through the mall. The overhead lights cast a soft glow, reflecting off the shop windows as Jenna leads you into one of the higher-end clothing stores you'd probably never step foot in on your own.

She immediately heads toward the jacket section, flipping through racks like she's done this a million times.  You hang back, watching her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. There's something weirdly endearing about how serious she is about this.

Jenna pulls out a black leather jacket, holding it up and inspecting it. "This," she says confidently, turning to you. "Try it on."

You raise an eyebrow but take the jacket from her. As soon as you slip it on, you feel the weight of the leather, the way it fits snugly across your shoulders. It's different—definitely edgier than anything you'd pick out for yourself.  It resembled the Sinner's jacket only in that it's a black leather jacket, but something about it was entirely different—it was more you.

Jenna steps back, appraising you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. "Now that," she says, her voice a little lower, "is hot."

You glance at yourself in the mirror, feeling a little out of place but... liking it.  You catch Jenna's eyes in the reflection, and for a second, the air between you feels charged, like there's something unsaid hanging between the two of you.

"Alright," you say, clearing your throat, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. "I guess it's not bad."

"Not bad?" she teases, stepping closer to you. "You look like a Viper that got dipped in ink."

"Is that your plan?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Turn me into one of you?"

"Maybe," she replies, her voice light but her eyes lingering on yours a moment too long. "One step at a time, Greaser."

You laugh, shaking your head, and take off the jacket. "Okay, your turn."

Jenna raises an eyebrow. "My turn?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning now.  "If I'm trying on stuff for you, you're doing the same for me."

You have the money to spend, you just don't spend it on clothes, so one high-end purchase wasn't going to be the end of the world for you.

Jenna looks like she's about to protest, but then she shrugs, her lips curving into a playful smile.  "Alright, let's see what you've got."

You head toward a rack of clothes, picking out something you think would suit her but also give her a taste of her own medicine—something just slightly outside her usual vibe.

You hand her a dark red bomber jacket.  "Try this."

Jenna eyes the jacket before smirking at you. "I see what you're doing."

"Just trying to give you a taste of your own advice," you say, crossing your arms.

She rolls her eyes but takes the jacket anyway, slipping it on.  And of course, she pulls it off effortlessly. The red complements her dark hair and pale skin perfectly, and for a moment, you're speechless.

"Well?" she asks, spinning around with a grin. "How do I look?"

"Like you could kick someone's ass and look good doing it," you say without missing a beat.

Jenna laughs, and it's the kind of genuine, carefree sound that makes your chest tighten a little.  The two of you continue bantering, trying on ridiculous combinations of clothes, mixing high-end with completely impractical.

By the time you leave the store, both of you are laughing, arms full of shopping bags—most of which Jenna insisted on buying.

As you step back out into the quiet night and you drop off your bags in your respective cars, she turns to you, her playful smirk softening into something more genuine.

"That was fun," she says, nudging your shoulder.

You smile back, feeling lighter than you've felt in a while. "Yeah, I guess it was."

Jenna looks at you closely, searching your face, as if trying to read whether you're on the same page as her—whether you've enjoyed this evening as much as she has, and if you're not ready to call it a night just yet.

"Want to get ice cream?" she asks suddenly, her voice casual but her eyes giving her away.  There's a hint of something more in the offer, like she hopes this isn't the end.

You can't help but smile at the unexpected suggestion.

"Why not?" you say with a grin. "This one's on me."

With that, the two of you run back into the mall, a sense of urgency and excitement as you try to beat the closing time. Laughter echoes between you as you race toward the ice cream shop, determined to grab your scoops.

————

"So how exactly does shopping fit into your plan?" you ask, taking a bite of your ice cream.

The two of you ended up sitting on the edge of the now quiet parking lot, legs dangling over the curb as you chatted.  Finally, you decide to address the question that's been nagging at you all evening.

"Plan?" Jenna echoes, pausing mid-bite as she swallows her ice cream.

"Yeah, the whole thing with Percy—finding out his secrets?" you explain, slightly confused as to why you even need to clarify.

"Wait, so you're helping me?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah? Isn't that why you asked me out?" you reply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You didn't text me back saying yes. How was I supposed to know?"

You give her a look. "...Then why'd you invite me out?" you ask, still confused.

"Because I could," she says casually, like it's no big deal. "You said you weren't busy."

You blink at her, still trying to piece it together. "So, you just... invited me out for no reason?"

Jenna tilts her head, giving you a playful smile. "Do I need a reason?"

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The girl sitting next to you is a complete enigma.  First, she ropes you into some covert mission to gather dirt on Percy, and now she's taking you shopping and out for ice cream like it's a casual hangout.

"Well... I guess not," you mumble, feeling a little off-balance.

Jenna takes another bite of her ice cream, her gaze drifting up to the fading evening sky. "Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you.  Ever think of that?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words, but before you can react, she nudges you with her elbow, breaking the tension.  "Plus, I figured if I was going to enlist your help with the whole 'Percy situation,' I might as well reap all the benefits."

You frown, puzzled. "Like what?"

She shrugs, smirking at you. "Like seeing you in that jacket. You look good, by the way."

You can't help but laugh at that, shaking your head.  "So this was all an elaborate ploy to dress me up?"

Jenna grins. "Maybe."

You shake your head with a blush, a soft chuckle escaping you. "You'll see me in it again next week."

Jenna raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's happening next week?"

"I'm racing."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, seriously? You've joined the Sinners now? And you're just casually dropping that on me?"

You wave your hand dismissively. "Not exactly. It's just an exhibition race.  A week today at 7.  Same place as where we met actually. I figured it's a good chance to see if it's for me, you know?  No commitments yet."

Jenna nods thoughtfully, her expression shifting from shock to approval. "Well, it's about time you took the wheel—literally and figuratively." She smirks. "One step closer to sorting out all your issues, huh?"

"Mhmm, so you coming?"

Jenna looks taken aback by your serious tone. "How would that work? What would your crew think?"

With a sigh, you finally reveal, "They think you're my girlfriend."

She nearly chokes on her ice cream. "What?"

"They saw footage of us last night in the garage and, well... yeah. Thankfully, they didn't recognize you. I told them you're from Ridgewater."

"Ridgewater?" She scrunches her nose in disgust. "Ugh, even I can't stand those snobs."

"You're literally in the same tax bracket," you fire back, amused.

"We're way more tolerable," she insists, clearly offended. "But seriously, how could you let us get caught on camera? Don't you know there are cameras in your club's garage?"

"It's not my club. And yeah, I know, but no one ever checks them. I have no idea why Anton did that day."

Jenna sighs, the sound dripping with annoyance. The noise hits you hard, like a voice inside your head that reminds you that this doesn't mean anything, she hates being seen with you and all she cares about is risking your alliance. It stings, leaving you wondering if she's only hanging around because she needs something from you.

Wanting to shift the mood, you bring up what you overheard earlier. "Is there a Georgie in your club?"

Her eyes narrow with curiosity. "Yeah, there is. Why?"

You explain the interaction with Anton and Madison, how Madison had whispered Georgie's name when you mentioned seeing Percy having a heated conversation at the race. "I have a feeling he could help with your plan."

Jenna hums thoughtfully. "I'll get Emma to work on him," she says, already tapping away on her phone.

"Emma?" you ask.

"Yeah, she's a friend in the club. One of the few nice ones. Georgie's got a thing for her, so she'll probably be able to squeeze some info out of him."

You nod, piecing it together. That must've been the girl you saw her talking to at the race. Still, the earlier sting lingers in your chest. It bothers you more than you'd like to admit that Jenna might only see you as a means to an end.

The mood feels heavier now, so you stand up. "It's getting late. I should head back."

Jenna pauses, clearly wanting to say something more. A part of her seemed to regret driving herself here. If she hadn't, maybe this night could've stretched out longer, and you could've dropped her home like you did the previous night. But she nods, keeping her thoughts to herself. "Yeah. I guess you should."

————

The week flew by in a blur, and before you knew it, race day was here. Your first race.

You and Jenna had been texting off and on all week—mostly about the frustrating lack of progress with Percy, but there'd been some banter too, the kind that was just toeing the line between playful and flirty. At least, you hoped it was flirting.

Your nerves buzzed as you pulled up to the track, the sun starting to dip behind the skyline. The place was already alive with revving engines and the thick smell of burning rubber.

Unlike the Viper race a few weeks back, there wasn't any strict segregation going on. Sure, the Ridgewater crew—the Ravens—hung out on one side, and the Sinners were mostly on the other, but people were still mixing. Talking. No tension, no invisible lines drawn in the sand.

Stepping out of your car, the weight of the moment finally started to hit you. Anton and the crew were scattered around, but your mind kept drifting. You were thinking about the race, sure, but also about her. You hadn't seen Jenna since the mall, and even though she texted you "Good luck" this morning, the thought of her showing up was stuck in your head.

And yeah, you were buzzing to see if she'd actually come.

Hunter appeared at your side, breaking your thoughts with a friendly clap on the back. "Ready for this?" he asked, wearing that usual cocky grin of his.

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I think I am."

"Good," he said with a laugh. "Because everyone's waiting to see what you're made of." He gave you a little shove, then wandered off to catch up with the others.

With one more deep breath, you walked over to where Anton and the rest of the crew were hanging out. The adrenaline was kicking in, but so was that nagging thought in the back of your mind—Would Jenna show up?

"Sweet jacket Y/n, looks like you finally splurged on yourself huh?" Anton laughs, pulling you into a bear hug.

You grin, knowing full well the jacket wasn't your doing but Jenna's. The rest of the crew were hyping you up, throwing questions your way about the race—how you were feeling, if you were ready—typical racer small talk. You played along, but your mind kept drifting.

The group started to thin out as people dispersed, and your eyes wandered over to the pillars near the edge of the lot, the spot where you first met Jenna. It was hidden, quiet—your secret spot. Was she here?

You started walking toward it, curiosity pulling you closer. That's when you saw them—four Ravens, the Ridgewater crew in their signature blue, standing around in a tight circle, talking to someone you couldn't see clearly at first. But as you got closer, the fifth person came into view.

She did come after all.

Your heart skipped a beat, that giddy excitement rising up. But that feeling was quickly replaced by something else. Her expression wasn't one of excitement or amusement. No, she looked uncomfortable. You could see it in her stiff posture, the way she subtly shifted as the Ravens talked around her.

You step closer, the voices of the Ravens becoming clearer as you approach. One of them, a tall guy with bleach-blond hair, was leaning in a little too close to Jenna, his smirk all too familiar.

"Come on, sweetheart, why don't you ditch the pillars and hang with us tonight? We're a lot more fun," he drawls, eyeing her in a way that made your blood boil.

Jenna's eyes narrow, her body language practically screaming discomfort, though she keeps her cool. "Yeah, I'm not interested," she says flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Blondie chuckles, not getting the hint—or choosing to ignore it. "I don't see any affiliation on you," he retorts, motioning to her lack of a jacket. "You're no Raven, not a Sinner either. You're a free agent, sweetheart. Why stick around?"

That's when you decide you've heard enough.

Stepping into the circle, you make your presence known. "She's with me."

The guy looks at you with an unimpressed raise of his brow, but before he can say anything, you shrug off your jacket—the one Jenna had bought for you—and drape it over her shoulders. "She's mine," you say, locking eyes with him, daring him to push it further.

Jenna's cheeks flush a soft pink, her eyes darting to yours, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. She instinctively grips the jacket tighter around her, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the situation.

Blondie snorts, glancing at his buddies before looking back at you. "Alright, alright, no need to get possessive. We were just talking." He raises his hands defensively, but the look in his eyes says he's not completely backing down. Still, they start to shift away, slowly retreating as the tension fades.

Once they're out of earshot, you turn to Jenna, your expression softening. "You okay?"

She nods, her lips curving into a grin. "Nice save," she says, still clutching the jacket. "I didn't know you were the possessive type."

You chuckle, feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation fade. "Just making sure they knew the deal."

"Yeah, well, I could've handled it." She smiles, but there's a twinkle in her eye. "But...thanks for the jacket." Her blush deepens, and you can't help but feel a little victorious seeing her like that again.

"Anytime," you reply, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. The race may be on your mind, but right now, it's her that's making your heart race.

You glance over your shoulder to check if anyone can see you, but Anton is deep in conversation with what looks like the leader of the Ravens, drawing all the attention his way. Typical Anton.

"I didn't think you'd show up," you admit, turning your gaze back to Jenna, noticing how your jacket swallows her frame, the sleeves hanging past her hands. Somehow, it looks perfect on her.

"How could I miss your first race?" she teases, her lips curling into a smirk. "You could walk out of this a full-fledged Sinner if you end up loving it."

That thought hadn't really crossed your mind before. What if you did enjoy racing? Were you really going to add "racer" to your list of titles? And if you hated it—what then? Would you leave Brimstone behind for good? Your mind starts spinning with all the possibilities, but you stop yourself before the spiral goes too deep. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Jenna tilts her head thoughtfully. "You said this race had nothing on the line right? Just a friendly race?"

You nod, though a flicker of doubt lingers.

"Then yeah," she says, her voice firm. "I think it's fair for you to give it a shot. Figure out what you want." Her eyes meet yours, steady and reassuring. "Sometimes, you don't know until you try."

Her words calm the storm in your mind, and for the first time tonight, the weight of your choices feels a little lighter.

"I'm totally making fun of you if you lose though," she adds, giving you a playful wink.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Of course you will," you reply, trying to play it cool, though her teasing still makes your heart skip a beat.

She smirks, leaning back against the pillar with a casual confidence that somehow makes you feel even more jittery. "Just trying to keep you grounded, you know. Can't let you get a big head if you win."

"Like I need help with that," you shoot back with a grin.

For a moment, the banter eases your nerves. But then the reality of the race looming ahead creeps back in, and you glance over to where your car is parked, engines revving in the distance. The scene is alive with anticipation, and you can feel the electricity in the air, building up to something big.

"Seriously though," Jenna adds, her tone softening, "I think you'll do great. You've got the skill, the focus. Just don't overthink it, okay?"

Her words hit deeper than you expected, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest. "Thanks," you murmur. "I'll try not to."

She gives you a small nod, her eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before flicking to the track behind you. "Go show them what you've got," she says, her voice soft but full of that undeniable spark.

You take one last look at her before stepping back, the jacket still draped around her, fitting like she was always meant to wear it.

She must've thought that look meant you wanted the jacket back, because she started to shrug it off.

"—no, keep it on," you quickly interrupt. "I can't have anyone else bothering you, especially when I won't be there to stop them."

————

Anton stood next to you outside the car, arms crossed, his usual smirk tempered by something more serious. The roar of engines filled the air around you, and the crowd was buzzing with energy as the race time drew near.

"You ready?" he asked, eyeing the car, then looking back at you with raised eyebrows.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, your fingers itching at your side. You tried to shake off the nerves, but it was easier said than done.

Anton clapped you on the shoulder, a rare look of pride on his face. "Remember, this isn't just about winning. You gotta feel it, the rush, the adrenaline. If you're not in the zone, it's game over."

You nodded, knowing he was right. Winning is not the end goal—it was the feeling, the test, to see if this whole world was something you were cut out for. You glanced around, spotting familiar faces from the crew and a few more you didn't recognize. The Sinners, the Ravens, and everyone else, all here to watch and see what you'd do.

"I know," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "Just got to stay focused."

Anton gave you a once-over, then grinned. "You're already ahead of the game. You've got your crew, and your girl showed up to watch. Not a bad start, huh?"

You chuckled, though a part of you still didn't fully understand what you were doing here—or what you were trying to prove. But you couldn't deny the thrill of the moment.

"Speaking of which, how's she doing?" Anton asked, leaning in closer. "Saw you two getting cozy earlier."

"Don't start with that," you muttered, shaking your head.

He laughed, stepping back. "Just saying, keep your head in the game. Show them what you've got."

The loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing the final call for drivers to get to the line. Anton gave you one last pat on the back. "Oh—and Y/n? Step on it. Don't stay in your limit."

You watched him walk off with those final words. It was time.

As you slipped into the driver's seat, adjusting your gloves and gripping the wheel, you glanced out the window toward the starting line. The pit of nerves in your stomach twisted a bit tighter when you spotted the racer pulling up next to you. Of course, it had to be him—the blondie from earlier, the one who had been hitting on Jenna.

He threw you a cocky smirk as he revved his engine, clearly more than ready to leave you in the dust. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the sight of him. Typical. He looked the part—flawless car, arrogant attitude, and an ego that seemed to fill the entire track.

Here he was, thinking he'd outshine you, thinking he had this in the bag. The thought sent a new wave of adrenaline through your veins, change of plans—winning is the end goal. It was personal now.

Settling into the driver's seat, you gripped the wheel tightly. Anton's last words echoed in your mind: "Step on it.  Don't stay in your limit." But the speed he wants? You'd never gone that fast, and you weren't sure you wanted to.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you glanced at the blond in the car next to you. He was smirking like he already had this in the bag. It The memory of him hitting on Jenna made your grip tighten even more. Then your eyes shifted to where Jenna stood, wrapped in your jacket. She met your gaze for a second, and you had to look away. God, what was I thinking? You cringed internally, remembering how you had jumped in like some hero and blurted out, "she's mine." What were you doing? This wasn't you.

The signal blared. Instinct took over, and you slammed your foot on the gas. The car roared to life beneath you, and you shot forward. The world around you blurred as the race began, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Blondie took the early lead, just as you expected. He was gunning it, probably trying to hit that 200 mark like Anton said.

You weren't even close. And you still weren't half way into the race. The speedometer was climbing fast, but the memory of your father's crash came rushing back. 200km/h—that was the speed he'd hit before everything went wrong. Your heart raced faster at the thought. No way am I hitting that. I can't. But you didn't need to. You weren't trying to match raw speed; you had something better—control, technique, and years of dodging the cops under your belt.

The first stretch was relatively straightforward, and you stayed just behind Blondie, pacing yourself. He was fast, sure, but he was reckless. You could see it in the way he took the turns, wide and messy, eating up his speed. You kept to the inside, handling each corner with precision, hugging the pavement like you were born to do this. Blondie kept glancing in his rearview, probably wondering why you weren't trying harder to catch him. He didn't get it. He didn't know you didn't need to reach that ridiculous speed to win.

The track began to curve—the finish line in sight, and you knew this was your moment. There was a sharp turn ahead, one that Blondie was approaching too aggressively. You could already see it. He wasn't going to slow down enough, and when he hit the curve, he'd either lose control or slide wide, giving you the opening you needed.

Now, you thought, pulling back just slightly as you hit the turn. You feathered the brakes, hugging the inside of the corner while Blondie flew into it way too fast. Just as you expected, his car swerved wide, giving you the perfect opportunity. You floored it, slingshotting around him with precision. He was still fighting to regain control when you shot past him.

Your heart raced, the finish line right there for the taking. The engine growled beneath you as you pushed forward, ignoring the urge to check the speedometer. It didn't matter now. You were in control, and that was all that counted. The crowd blurred into the background as the finish line rushed toward you.

You crossed first.

The roar of the crowd engulfed you like a tidal wave. Cheers erupted from every corner, your name ringing in your ears like a victory anthem. "Y/N! Y/N!" they chanted, and the excitement surged through you, igniting every nerve ending. You felt invincible, a high unlike anything you had ever experienced. The adrenaline coursed through your veins.

In that moment, you understood why people chased this feeling. It was intoxicating, addictive even, and a part of you hated that you were reveling in it. The thrill of victory mingled with the elation of having just pushed your limits. But then your eyes found her in the crowd—Jenna. She stood there, a radiant smile lighting up her face, and all at once, the adrenaline surged anew.

It was a reckless desire that ignited within you, overwhelming and raw. You wanted to kiss her, right there in front of everyone, to pull her close and celebrate your victory together. The image flickered in your mind, vivid and enticing, and suddenly, all you could think about was her. You remembered reading an article once about bank robbers who, after cracking the vault, had sex right in front of the safe due to the adrenaline. A story you once thought stupid, in that moment, it made sense. The adrenaline, the thrill of accomplishing something audacious, the heat of the moment—it was all a cocktail of desire that was too intoxicating to resist.

But as your heart raced for both the victory and for her, a small part of your mind pushed back. You couldn't deny it any longer; you wanted Jenna. You wanted her bad. And you didn't care if the crew found out who she was or if they learned she wasn't from Ridgewater. You didn't care if your alliance crumbled under the weight of it all. But as quickly as the thought ignited, a flicker of caution settled in. I can't jeopardize it for her, she's in trouble.

The cheer of the crowd faded momentarily as you wrestled with your feelings. Was this thrill rooted in the race itself, or was it because she was watching you? The two sensations intertwined, leaving you breathless. You wanted to close that distance between you—you at the finish line her at the pillars.

You leaned against your car, grinning widely as you took in the moment, the reality of what you'd just accomplished. The rush of adrenaline, the celebration of the crowd, and the promise of what was to come. With Jenna smiling back at you, you knew you were fucked. You thought with this race now over some of your questions would be answered, but now you are left with more.

————

The celebration continued long into the night, the energy of victory electrifying the air around you. The next hour unfolded in a blur of races, laughter, and clinking beer bottles. Your heart was still racing from the earlier adrenaline, but now it was fueled by the heady mix of joy and the shared exhilaration of the crowd.

As you mingled and celebrated, your eyes continuously searched for Jenna, hoping to catch a glimpse of her amidst the people. But luck was not on your side; you couldn't spot her anywhere. It was only once everyone started leaving, and you were getting ready to leave, did you spot the girl.

"Mind giving me a ride home?" she asked, knowing you won't say no.

And so there you both were, on the highway to Summer Valley. "I knew you would win," she broke the silence. "How did you like it?"

"It was...nice." you answer, eyes straight on the road. After finally admitting to yourself your growing attraction to Jenna, you found it hard to look her way; the adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your thoughts a tangled mess.

"Nice? All you're going to give me is nice?" she fires back with sass.

You laugh, "I'm just confused. I don't know if I enjoyed racing, or the attention that came from winning."

The attention that came from you.

Jenna tilted her head, studying you with a curious expression. "Come on, don't play coy with me. You know you loved it. That rush, the speed, the crowd cheering your name—it's addictive. You can't deny that."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you kept your eyes on the road. "Yeah, I guess it is. But it's more than just that. It's everything that came with it. The energy, the victory...and yo—." You cut yourself off before you regret your words.

Her brow furrowed slightly, "And what?"

You bit your lip, debating whether to dive into your feelings now or keep it light. But decided to can the idea as a whole. "Nothing, anyways was your friend able to make Georgie or whatever spill?" You ask trying to change the subject.

Jenna seemed upset about the change in topic, but didn't press it any further. "Actually yeah. He didn't give much context, but Percy's meeting someone tomorrow, and we are going to spy on that meeting," she smiles proudly.

"Sounds like a plan. Do we know anything about who he's meeting or what it's for?"

"Georgie just said something about Ghost Smoke. I don't know what that is—a new racing crew maybe? That name mean anything to you?"

"Ghost Smoke?" You parrot, making sure you heard her right. She nods her head.

From what you knew, Ghost Smoke was the latest drug that was being pushed out onto the streets. The one that's been causing the latest drug epidemic in Brimstone. If what you're thinking is true—then Percy is not someone that should be fucked with. You consider telling the girl in your passenger seat about what you know, but decide to keep quiet. Not tonight.

Before you knew it, you found yourself on the brown-eyed girl's street. You instinctively slowed down, stopping about twelve houses away—probably out of habit—but she didn't seem to mind. As she turned to you, her intense gaze pierced through the dim light, leaving you wondering what she was thinking. Was she going to lean in for another kiss on the cheek? Just as that thought flickered in your mind, it was swept away by the sound of her opening the car door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Greaser," she said, her voice playful yet filled with a hint of mystery, before walking down the road, still wrapped in your jacket.

You remained parked in the shadows of the dimly lit street, your thoughts racing as wildly as your heart had during the race. That uneasy feeling nagged at you, refusing to fade. You had thought Jenna was the answer to your questions, a beacon guiding you through the chaos, but she also seemed to be the source of many new ones. Just what was this girl pulling you into, and why couldn't you bring yourself to walk away?

next chapter

[skruttet]

What are your thoughts on s4? Personally I was actually kind of disappointed, a lot of the characters felt... off?? Not like themselves. Snufkin really didn't appear much and the Comet Episode was confusing and wasn't really all that Book-Accurate... And Snufkin got the 90s Movie treatment :(

Like there were definitely scenes and a few episodes I liked, but overall I feel weird about the season. And I'm curious what your thoughts are.

I will say that overall, I was disappointed.

To be fair to the series though, it arguably largely stems from my personal expectations and hopes? The two biggest disappointments for me were Joxter and Snufkin not meeting, and snufmin's relationship.

The Joxter stuff on the whole I adored, and really could never have dreamed of happening. Just seeing him - or any of the Oshun Oxtra crew, really! - interacting with the characters in "modern day" is great. And then he reunited with Mymble and it was so exciting, and then Little My started wondering about him and Snufkin, and then-! ...They didn't meet. Honestly baffles me why they'd give us so much fanservice but not include probably the main thing most fans would want to see with Joxter. Also interesting that they're afraid to even touch Snufkin's issues with family but they KEEP bringing up Little My's.

The snufmin thing surprised me because my expectations were LOW; during the wait I kept telling people not to get their hopes up, that snufmin would never be explicitly "canon", etc. And I still say they would never do anything explicit with them, however, I was expecting at least for the relationship to be on the same level as it was in season 3, but it seemed to take a step down unfortunately. I wanted more romantic subtext, more hints that something was up between them, and for about the first 4 episodes I thought Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden were finally just interacting as friends and I was hopeful, but unfortunately it was soon clear that they were still supposed to be romantically linked. To their credit, Moomintroll and Snufkin's relationship does maintain some of the development it grew throughout the series, and it funnily ends up presenting it almost as one-sided on Snufkin's side; he's now so much more openly affectionate and patient with Moomintroll, and their communication is a whole lot better, but the latter continues to pursue Snorkmaiden instead. I think Snufkin himself feels so mellowed out in this season, like he's no longer fighting against his own feelings or pulling away from others as much, which is nice to see (though I can see others complaining he's too out-of-character compared to his original counterpart, which is understandable, but I'm personally fine with the characters being "different versions" of themselves in adaptations).

Another disappointment for me was, like you mentioned, the Comet finale... it just wasn't as epic as I thought it'd be, and the stakes weren't high from the start, and after the journey was over the rest of the episode taking place in the valley was a bit dull and directionless. And inaccuracies from the book I expect by this point, but I'm personally not a fan of the ending change with them all just waiting outside to die but the Groke sacrificing herself but actually this is a family show so she's actually alive yaay 😂 Just a bit strange and not the send-off I was quite hoping for.

On the positive side, I LOVED Mamma and Pappa this season. Moominpappa kinda stole the show, and whilst the creators clearly favoured him in past seasons, in this one he finally lost that meanness he sometimes had in s1-3, so he was just a delight to watch.

The guest stars and characters were fabulous, which is a bittersweet thing as it makes it all the more sad that this is the final season and it's all we'll see of them.

The animation and music and sound and acting were all as wonderful as they always are. The crew did such a great job and it's a shame the story decisions dampened the experience for me.

[dostoyevsky-official]

How Long Can the Alliance Between Tech Titans and the MAGA Faithful Last?

On Sunday evening, the night before Donald Trump’s second inauguration, scores of luminaries from across the New Right are expected to gather for a dinner and gala called the Coronation Ball at the Watergate Hotel. The event is being hosted by the young right-wing publishing house Passage Press, known for publishing the neoreactionary writer Curtis Yarvin — one of the earliest of those luminaries, most famous for advocating a monarchy “run like a start-up.”

Today, this upstart coalition of thinkers may be best described simply as the intellectual wing of Trumpism. “Celebrate the inauguration of Donald J. Trump,” the publishing house announced, “with the people and organizations that will shape the culture in his second term.”

The ball will celebrate more than the recoronation of a president. It seems intended to mark the ascent of a new counterelite with aspirations to supplant the existing establishment in everything from high politics to business and culture. But this is a loose alliance, colored by rivalries and complex divisions. It has brought together people who previously had little in common.

It’s a gap in worldviews that went overlooked in the heady days of the campaign. When Elon Musk endorsed Mr. Trump, putting a great deal of personal money and energy into the project of MAGA populism, he joined figures like the venture capitalist and podcaster David Sacks and the crypto exchange founder Tyler Winklevoss in what represents one of the most surprising and disruptive alliances in American political history. Tech emerged as an alternate power center to the Republican establishment. Silicon Valley money filled in for dollars lost from the traditional donor class. As the presidential transition took shape, tech figures stepped in to supply elite human capital, as they put it, to staff the new administration. All the biggest tech companies made sure to offer a $1 million tribute to help fund the inauguration.

But the core of the aspiring Trumpian aristocracy are still reactionaries and nationalists aching to restore an American way of life thought to be lost after decades of what they see as globalist technocracy. They are often deeply skeptical of the idea that the innovations promised by tech companies represent progress, and they describe America as “not just a country, not just an economy but a people with a common history,” as Jeremy Carl, a deputy assistant secretary of the interior in the first Trump administration and a senior fellow at the Claremont Institute, told me. The tech figures who came to the movement in 2024 were often sympathetic to Trumpian nationalism. But they tended to be more interested in making money and launching a new era of American dynamism.

[...] The debate has genuinely high stakes, heading in the first days of a wildly ambitious presidential administration. People like Mr. Bannon see the tech right almost as an fundamental enemy to the natural human order they wanted to restore. More moderate allies on the MAGA side just hope to keep things calm and friendly. If a true conflict emerges, Mr. Trump himself might well end up siding with the part of the coalition that offers vast supplies of cash and new friends socializing and scheming with him down at Mar-a-Lago.

The coalition is achingly close to achieving a long-held conservative dream — of fashioning a high-low alliance powerful enough to supplant the liberal establishment and remake America. It is a project that might well collapse if one side or the other gets too much of what it wants and ends up driving the other away.

[...] “I think the tech right is going to win in the short term,” said Razib Khan, a geneticist and tech consultant who is friendly with many figures in both the MAGA and tech right spheres. As he saw it, the talent and money were mostly on the side of tech.

“The tech right is pro-American,” he said. But it’s pro-American in the sense that they see America as “an empire that takes over the world and goes interplanetary.” This was too rationalist of an approach for many on the MAGA side, which is shaped in large part by Christian faith and, at least for some, a belief that America should be a homeland for “heritage” Americans, of Northern European extraction. They are “not excited about the American Empire,” he said, or racing into space. They care more about the values of a “pre-1960s America, the values of a Western civilization.”

[mr-entj]

How can I be you? The life, the experiences, 0.1%! Incredible! I’m a little bit jealous but inspired at the same time! Tips? 😂

Why be me when you can be you?

If I were to travel back in time and live my life again, I'm not sure I could get this same outcome. There were tons of toxic situations that opened new doors, rejections that turned into amazing redirections, random meetings with people who became lifelong friends, and more one-off lucky instances that I wouldn't be able to recreate. It's a mosaic of fortuitous events over the past few years that led me here.

With that said, there were definitely factors within my control that I maximized to increase my chances of success:

Become an expert in something. A lot of people want the lifestyle, glitz, and glamor, but not the hard work and grind required to develop expertise. Have a pocket skill. For example, I'm really good at strategy and business operations. In Silicon Valley, I have a reputation as Mr. GSD ("Get Shit Done") from my track record solving very tricky, tough, and high-stakes problems. That’s how I ended up building an incredible professional and personal network of people who’ve got my back—whether it’s giving me referrals on the spot or stepping up for me when needed. I haven't applied to jobs in years and former colleagues reach out with opportunities all the time:

Proximity is everything. Be where excellence is. Want to marry someone from an Ivy League university? Get into an Ivy League university yourself. Only about 0.1% of the world’s population graduates from Harvard, but if you get into Harvard, guess what? 100% of your circle did too. The same goes for Silicon Valley. I came here to work with the smartest people in tech because being around excellence opens up opportunities. You're not going to get that living in Antarctica. Proximity equals opportunity.

Shoot for seniority as fast as possible. The higher your level, the more visibility your work receives, and the more opportunities to interact with decision makers like top executives and industry leaders. I've always had problems with authority and I didn't want to waste years of my life being told what to do by someone else so guess what I did? I became the person with authority who tells other people what to do as fast as possible.

For context, most new college graduates in tech start at Level 3 (L3). Promotions typically follow this timeline:

L4 (Senior): 1–2 years

L5 (Lead): 2–3 more years

L6 (Manager/Staff): 3–4 more years

L6 is considered a terminal level, meaning many people spend years there without ever advancing further. Breaking into L7 (Senior Manager/Senior Staff) is extremely difficult, and L8 (Director/Principal) is even rarer—less than 1% of the industry reaches those levels. On average, moving from L3 to L6 typically takes 6 years on the low end and 9 years on the high end, just to reach mid-level management, not even senior leadership.

With that said, I'm currently an L9 (Senior Director)— and I achieved that in 7 years from the time I entered tech.

[landslided]

oh, i'm so sorry you didn't like the finale! if you're comfortable sharing, would love to hear why you didn't like it/what you didn't enjoy.

hi anon!!! of course i'd love to yap, you (must) know by now.

very simply i'd like to start by saying that this is things i disliked and while i do believe some of these things are far more important than others, i do not hold any judgement for whoever enjoyed these last five episodes! i truly mean what i said: really happy for the ones who had a blast!!

now that this disclaimer is made let's get into the Nasty bits:

a reason why i loved cobra kai so much was because to me the fights in the show in season one served the story. miguel's ascension to a role of fighter who protected himself and others from bullies only to then become a bully because johnny's karate and philosophy was still too wrapped with kreese's ideologies and his own personal need for revenge and to "fight" daniel. season one puts an accent on the characters, on miguel and johnny's relationship, on robby's feelings towards that, on daniel's bond with his family (and how his own inability to let the past go influences that). season one is quite low in stakes when you think about it: johnny is struggling to make ends meet and teaching a kid how to fight for an under 18 tournament. the highs and lows of the show are the interactions between the characters, how all of them make up, break up, fight, love, tear into each other. low stakes for high emotional tension. it works wonderfully, especially when miguel brings more importance to beating robby than it actually should if it were real life: cobra kai wins the all valley then but johnny loses. he's brought back something that should have stayed dead. cobra kai has tainted another generation of kids and johnny only understand when he's holding that trophy watching daniel leave with robby.

all of these characters hold weight in the story. they're flawed but real, deeply human, complex and beautiful.

season 6 is about the fights. the plot only exists to put these kids (and johnny) on the mat. and it needs to be flashy. it needs to blow up the choreography budget. we need blood, we need slow mo. we need so many different cameras and we need to make 40 minute episodes spent almost in their majority fighting OR talking about the fights.

it's lazy. it's losing focus of what made cobra kai season 1 such a good revival: giving emotional weight to a 80´s movie villain by showing how much his life has been affected by this one thing.

the laziness doesn't just stop at the amount of fights though. this season of cobra kai (and let's be honest, basically every single season of cobra kai since they joined netflix) has spent less and less time with the characters' emotion. and if they do spend some time on what these characters are feeling they need to tell you in extreme detail because they do not trust us, the audience, to understand something that hasn't been spelled out for us explicitly.

(how many speeches can one person give during a karate fight? how many superlatives can be given to robby, miguel, tory, johnny until it becomes a parody?)

if you look at these characters in season 6 and hold them up to their season 1 version, would you recognize them? actually, maybe you would, because there is no growth. no change. johnny, who has learned time and time again that cobra kai doesn't work, that it's not him or what is right for him, goes back because "that's a cool name for a dojo" and we will still strike first, strike hard and have no mercy and no amount of talking around it changes the fact that kreese's memory haunts those words and that man did not deserve redemption, did not deserve to be hugged and forgiven and seen as someone worth having such an impact on the future generations of valley fighters.

for daniel to be the one pushing johnny towards cobra kai is even more of a narrative failure.

"but the show is called cobra kai!" yes and yet the show cobra kai should have ended with the confirmation that the cobra kai dojo is gone, that this philosophy of life has been beaten by johnny, by daniel, by them and the others moving forward and not backwards.

the show's worst mistake is to believe johnny cannot be a beloved character while being called what he is: a reformed bully. johnny was the bad guy but to just say this is so vague, it doesn't let you know what growth he should have gone through (and yes, johnny does go through character changes but i swear to you that so much more could have been given to him): johnny was a bully. let's say it so we can fix it.

cobra kai refuses to have actual villains (except if they're teenage girls who have sex apparently but zara is yet another story) it will throw you a 100 redemption arcs but it will also tell you that these characters didnt need a redemption arc anyway because they were good, deep down, they were always doing the right thing.

that's not true and that's what makes them compelling characters and stories. cobra kai doesn't manage to ever let itself be uncomfortable with the morality of the story it tries to tell in the later seasons. and why should it? you're here for the sekai takai babyyyyy, not to see your favorite character actually be fleshed out, you're here to see BLOOD!!!!

and it doesn't matter if you sideline time and time again the asian characters and influence within your story, mr miyagi is dead anyway!! let's have him fight some skeletons from the grave!! who gives a shit!! that's BADASS.

it doesn't matter that the female characters of the show can be reduced to woman/daughter/mother/sex object. it doesn't matter that laura, carmen and laura junior all have for roles to be the Women of johnny's life. good on sam to go to okinawa maybe she can buy a story arc over there.

but i mean, it's not just the women so it's okay, we're progressive in cobra kai: robby can also be reduced to a few tropes tied together with a cute little bow and then completely sidelined! he can thank his dad for being there for him a total of... 45 minutes in 6 seasons?

tory can fight for cobra kai after saying times and times again she doesn't want to but hey listen she's BADASS and she gets to be an influencer!! something she and robby have shown a LOT of interest across many seasons.

and miguel can also fight for revenge <3 we can say he did it for him but hey, we know it was to win. and that's okay! it's alright! it's not like it goes against his growth too!

actually, lets have daniel fully accept to be in a cobra kai gi, something even karate kid iii didnt do with such enthusiasm. how about we also have him impersonate john kreese? because that guy was so needed.

and johnny can win. he can win a fight to finally buy back his lost honor even though we've established time and time again that he didn't need this win, that to be so obsessed with victory is bad for him, that it goes against who he wants to be.

zara, axel and wolf are Here. and since the writers say zara didn't sexually assault robby (even though hey! that's what it was!) it means that within canon she's just punished to this degree for the sin of? homewrecking? and axel is There. sure. he has some sort of moral compass but he exists also just to fight and not to do anything else within the story.

a kid dies in the last part of this show and nobody truly gives a shit. kreese and silver? blow up? meh. must be a tuesday at the valley.

very high stakes in this season, very low emotional impact. the total opposite from season one.

i could go on and on, i could try and make a better analysis of the military and imperialism propaganda cobra kai has fallen into but others have done it much better than i could and mostly i am tired.

i will always love cobra kai. i will always love daniel larusso and johnny lawrence. i just wish the writers loved them too and not the tasteless, beige clones of them they've made to fight for our entertainment.

[silent-partner-412]

i was doing “research” for a fic idea involving sebastian and alex, and it caused me to stumble across a fic called “as odd as our jobs, baby!” and i’m kind of obsessed.

the scenario is essentially just “what if stardew valley’s younger bachelors were all in high school and they were all in a friend group” (minus maru and penny) and holy shit the vibes on this fic are impeccable. it feels like a high school rom com in all the best ways; the vignettes it paints, the grand emotions for situations that are relatively low stakes all things considered, the immature banter, the youthful romance and sexuality… it’s got it all. it’s got such a nostalgic vibe; like i didn’t have a great high school experience but i feel like i’m living through a better one by proxy just by reading this fic.

also, i’m becoming so sold on the idea of sebastian and alex being together lol. sambastian (and jeralex, for that matter) is beginning to have some competition i fear.

[thinkin-about-berries]

it me

hiiii i'm draco pronouns are he/him i'm an adult i'm just some nerd living in sinnoh with his pet shinx who really likes snakes and berries and stuff i'm actually trying to get some extra work done on berry research to kinda carry on the work my grand-uncle did i speak the language usually used here in the sinnoh, johto and kanto regions and i know jsl (johtoan sign language) really fluently

i'm prolly gonna post mostly pictures of my shinx, cyndra, maybe some photos of what i'm working on here or there aaaaand maybe a selfie if i'm feeling kinda saucy

oh and i really like playing cozy games and the like pokemon crossing and minecraft on peaceful mode and stardew valley and stuff like that so if anyone wanted to maybe talk about that i'd be super happy to

um

i might enable the other settings later but i kinda don't want people just sending me random stuff for now uh

thanks for looking at my blog and stuff!

pelipper mail is on pelipper unmail is off mystery gift is on magic anon is off

//Picrew credit

//So yeah I'm doing a thing and stuff. I wanna... genuinely try my best to actually tell a potentially interesting, engaging story with an OC I've held near and dear to my heart for the last decade and a half. Draco's my pure-hearted little boy who can do no wrong but embodies the autism creature to a T.

I will try my damn hardest to keep consistent activity on this blog unlike many other muses I just kinda get a big boon of energy for, then immediately drop. Thank goodness I've had this OC for as long as I have, eh? Means I'm actually invested.

The plot will be rather slow burn, a clue here, an event there, but I want to tell a story that other people can not only get invested in, but potentially even turn in different directions. Draco is a very malleable person who trusts more than he should, so pointing out the flaws in his thinking or giving him guidance towards certain choices can drastically affect my plans here. And I want that.

It will start with low stakes. It will steadily ramp up to rather personally dangerous "medium" stakes, and the planned climax's many outcomes will have SELF-CONTAINED high stakes that cannot, nor will not affect anything but Draco's own canon. They will be world-changing, not world-destroying. Whether that's a good or bad thing is grounds for you all to find out more through Draco's experiences.

Another blog will be made to supplement the plot here later on as well. I Have Plans... and I hope you all enjoy those plans!

Rose-mun, out.

[songbird-oracle]

Live thoughts watching Fantasy High Junior Year episode 5

Spoilers ahead

Im so nervous already about Cassandra

These dudes getting swole

It IS spicy tonight in the dome

Screaming

I WANT A BOGGY KISS

OH FUCK SHES HOLD MONSTERING KRISTEN

THE SECURITY COMING THROUGH OH SHIT

“Do you want me to kill that guy for you 👀” vibes

OH NO PLEASE NO NIGHTMARE KING OH NO OH NO

I’m Shittering my pants rn

No not the girlies!

Located in the astral mall, This place has *everything*. Ripped valley girls, a goddess and prophet and familiar going through a very tumultuous time in their relationship, a frog wearing a paper hat, and a weird ass clock

I live for the hangman banter

Oml I love the Yarrbucks coffee art

LOU HOLY SHIT

BOX OF DOOM DC5!? The stakes are seriously so high though

Okaaaaaaaay 13 works ig

“Does she need scratchies?”

Wooo Murph!!

THE STAR TALKS!?

I love Emily’s reaction to “banging out a 1st level spell”

Riz sadly flossing

Oh no Kristen oh no Cassandra!

No stop attacking Cassandra!!!!

🎶non-a-crits🎶

Thank goodness no failures

Break it up guys come ooooooooon

Damn, man needs strudel with sauce at a time like this

Profiling the minis 🤣

NOT THE TAP DANCING

“I don’t think you’re scared, I think you’re mad. And that’s okay” I’m sobbing

YES THE FUCKING SECURITY DETAIL

Kristen is so low, oh no

A 0 initiative 🥲

FUCK THIS IS WHAT RAGHS MOM ABSORBED!?!? Gorgug is the greatest wizard of our time

Abjurative grammar is prescriptive. Iykyk.

I knew the DC would be high

NAT 20 BEARDSLEY IN THE FUCKING HOUUUUUUUSE

YESSSSS HEALED CASSANDRA 😭

Oh fuck oh fuck bad stars

Let it out Cassandra, feel your feelings

Oh my goodness, philosophers scone

OOP PAUL BLART INTERGALACTIC MALL COP

It’s not the nightmare king??????

41 damage each, damn Adaine

We aren’t even half way through guys

BAHAHAHAHAHHA playful picking on Riz

Mass dispelling?? Damn

????? TUMMY ACHE SURVIVOR????

THE SHRIMP!!!!!!

Why is Fig a walking embodiment of Murphy’s law rn???

WHAT THE FUCK

NO NO NO DID GILEAR STEAL HER LUCK??????

IS THIS QUADRANGLE FUCKERY??????

Okay it’s just a curse

WAIT WHAT???

Cloaca why 😂

Whoopsies, shattered the shatter star

Oh fuck, rage Adaine is scary dude

Is this some rage and revenge deity??

Anyone but Conor

BAHAHAHAHAHA “no no, this is gonna happen”

“Stay hot Conor”

NOT KALINA NO

RAGH??????

Not the shimmy

WHAT IS KALINAS AC

44 DAMAGE??

Old Fabian

Legend has it the wizard is still waiting for his strudel with sauce

WHAT THE FUCK NO NOT CASSANDRA NO NO NO

“Unfortunately stop flossing”

COMPELLED DUEL ON KALINA OH FUCK

3!!!!! Woooooo!!!!!

Worst mall cop ever, Paul Blart would never

🤣 “is that not property damage??”

I’m so scared for Cassandra guys

Kristen and Cassandra are down oh no 🥲

BARDIC SHRIMPSPIRATION

NO NAT ONE NO NOOOOOOOO

Somewhere Katja Cleaver is raging because Conor Counterspell said he hates horses

A ball. Not *the* ball

ARMOR ZOMBIE AND LICH IM LIVING FIR THESE NAMES

Bards and Noble 🤣

Kristen coming in with the hugs

Box of doom has been working hard this episode

Shake out the bad ones

Screaming crying throwing up

I can’t look

Dammit Murph

Ecaf again

“What are you talking about girlieeeee?”

Brendan’s stare scares me

FUCK

Strudel for the win Girlie!!!

“One more roll girlie 🤪”

Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no circle of death oh no

COUNTERSPELL MY BELOVED

“How old are you” “45” “gross”

WAIT WHAT TIME REVERSE TO- TEN SECONDS

Conor, you’re the best secret service agent ever

WHAT????? WHERES CASSANDRA??????

WHAT????????

I’m so fucking scared right now

Wait is Cassandra a triple goddess? Like how Hekate is a triple goddess, is Cassandra one? Cause Cassandra, Nightmare king, and a divine thing that isn’t a different divinity?

I want to enjoy “we got that bad boy buttered” but I can’t 🥲

Dead stare 🥲

I love Hangman 🥹

Feral Murph

NAT 20 SHRIMP JUMP

Thousand yard stare

Best shrimp jump ever

Maximum legend

That’s right, kick flip the system

Fuck KandyKorn Lullaby

See you at Basrars, I’ll be sobbing into my ice cream

[kpoplustzone]

Fashion Event Fuck- Han So Hee Smut

FULL STORY FROM DIAMOND TIER

Other stories locked in the diamond tier get a membership in KoFi to enjoy those stories - Click Here

Fashion Event Fuck- Han So Hee Smut

OC X HAN SO HEE

Han So Hee was wearing a dress that shimmered under the club's lights, a daring design that plunged low in the front, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. It was a dress that seemed to defy gravity, barely containing her ample breasts, making it appear as if a sudden movement might cause them to spill out. The fabric clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, and she exuded an aura of effortless glamour and confidence that drew the gazes of many around her, fitting perfectly within the stylish backdrop of a fashion week gathering.

Martin, who was sitting opposite her, was completely mesmerized. He couldn’t believe that this incredibly attractive actress, whom he recognized from popular Korean dramas and had even… admired in more intimate moments on screen, was sitting just a few tables away, clearly intoxicated and radiating a captivatingly seductive energy. He glanced around the bar, noticing how other patrons, likely part of the same fashion week events, were discreetly (or not so discreetly) watching her, their gazes drawn to her exposed cleavage and the tantalizing glimpses of her figure.

Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, Martin, whose nametag indicated he was a waiter, decided to seize the moment. He approached her table, a polite smile on his face. In slightly hesitant, broken Korean, he began, “So Hee-ssi… another drink?”

SO HEE

Martin could practically taste the opportunity hanging in the air, thick and sweet like the spilled cocktails on the bar counter. So Hee’s playful touch and suggestive language were anything but accidental. He watched as she languidly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the simple motion causing her dress to shift, momentarily emphasizing the generous curve of her exposed cleavage and the tantalizing hint of the dark valley between her breasts. Then, as if by instinct, she stretched in her seat, a seemingly casual movement that arched her back and pulled the fabric of her dress taut across her fit and undeniably sexy figure, making her boobs strain against the low neckline as if desperate to escape.

Martin could only swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His gaze involuntarily flickered down to her cleavage, then back up to her insanely beautiful face, trying to maintain eye contact but finding it increasingly difficult. Just the sight of her, so close and so openly flirting, was enough to make his cock harden inside his trousers, a throbbing ache of pure desire blooming in his groin. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, a mixture of nervousness and intense arousal. This was way beyond his usual shift at the bar; this felt like a scene ripped straight from one of the dramas he'd watched her in, only this time, he was playing the lead role, and the stakes were… incredibly high

She giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement at whatever slightly nonsensical thing Martin had just uttered in his nervous excitement. Her smile was radiant, lighting up her face and making the few nearby patrons who were still surreptitiously watching them lean in with even more curiosity. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of anticipation down Martin’s spine, her slender fingers, adorned with delicate rings, left the table and landed on his thigh.

The contact was light at first, a playful tease, but it was enough to send a jolt of pure electricity through Martin's body. Every nerve ending seemed to tingle, and the insistent throbbing of his already hard cock intensified to an almost painful level. He could barely breathe, his focus entirely consumed by the soft warmth of her touch through his trousers. So Hee’s gaze, however, remained fixed on his face, a knowing smile playing on her luscious lips. She could feel the immediate tension that shot through him, the barely concealed tremor in his leg. With a playful glint in her eye, her hand began to creep higher, her fingers inching their way up his inner thigh, getting dangerously close to the straining bulge in his pants. Martin’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs. So Hee’s smile widened, now undeniably seductive, as her fingers continued their slow ascent, her intention becoming thrillingly clear.

So Hee’s touch grew bolder, her smile widening into a knowing leer as her hand fully encompassed the burgeoning hardness straining against the fabric of Martin's trousers. Her fingers, surprisingly firm for their delicate appearance, began to stroke him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, kneading and squeezing through the thin material. Martin’s breath hitched again, a low groan involuntarily escaping his lips. He could feel the heat emanating from her hand, the pressure both arousing and slightly surreal.

Her fingers then began to trace the length of his erection, moving from the thick base upwards to the sensitive tip, then back down again in a tantalizing dance. So Hee’s lips curved into a confident smile, her eyes flickering downwards for a brief moment as if visually measuring the length and girth she held captive in her hand. A thrill shot through Martin, a potent mix of disbelief and pure, unadulterated lust. He could barely keep himself from moaning out loud, every stroke of her fingers sending waves of intense pleasure through his body.

Leaning closer, her intoxicatingly sweet breath warm against his ear, So Hee whispered in slightly slurred Korean, her voice husky and laced with playful desire, "Oppa... So Hee wants what's under your hands... inside So Hee." Her words, direct and explicit, sent a jolt of pure electricity through Martin. His cock throbbed against her touch, hard and eager, and he could feel his control slipping away. So Hee's hand continued its seductive massage, her words and actions painting a vivid picture of the night ahead, a night that Martin suddenly realized was about to become far more intimate and exciting than he could have ever imagined.

They both slipped away from the tail end of the fashion week event, leaving behind the flashing cameras and chattering crowds. Martin found himself walking a respectful few steps behind So Hee as they moved through the hushed, plushly carpeted corridor of a luxurious hotel. Her dress, the same daring number from the bar, now seemed even more provocative in the quieter setting, its every sway and ripple highlighting the exquisite curve of her ass. The way the fabric clung to her figure, the subtle movements of her body beneath it – he took it all in, a silent admirer still struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

So Hee reached her hotel room door. She turned, her smile on that incredibly pretty face of hers widening as she caught Martin openly admiring her ass, the curve of her buttocks a tantalizing invitation beneath the shimmering fabric of her dress. A playful glint, hot and knowing, entered her eyes, and she swayed her hips a little more, grinding them subtly, giving him a private, sensual show right there in the hushed hallway. The light fabric of her dress rippled with the movement, clinging and releasing in a way that made his gaze drop and his groin tighten with anticipation.

As they reached her door, her eyes never leaving his, So Hee reached out and grabbed Martin’s tie, her fingers tangling in the silk, pulling him closer with a surprising strength that belied her slightly inebriated state. Her smile melted into a look of pure, unadulterated hunger, her lips parting slightly, moist and inviting. She leaned in, her breath warm and scented with champagne against his face, before her mouth crashed against his in a sudden, fierce, and undeniably passionate kiss. It wasn't a gentle, exploratory touch of lips; it was a demanding claiming, her tongue immediately thrusting into his mouth, tangling with his in a wet, primal dance.

Martin’s arms reacted instantly, wrapping around her waist, his hands sliding down to grip the soft curves of her ass beneath the dress, pulling her body flush against his. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the insistent press of her breasts against his chest, the unmistakable hardness of his erection throbbing against her thigh. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more possessive, a silent promise of the explicit pleasures that awaited them just behind that closed door. Her hands left his tie to snake around his neck, her fingers digging into the hair at his nape, pulling him even closer as she moaned softly against his lips, a sound that vibrated with pure desire. The hallway, the fashion week buzz, all faded into the background as their world narrowed to the intense, wet heat of their kiss and the urgent press of their bodies.

Between gasps of their fervent kiss, So Hee somehow managed to maneuver her hand, still entangled with Martin's in his tie, to fumble with the hotel room door handle. With a click, the door swung inward, and they stumbled into the dimly lit space, still locked in their passionate embrace. The air in the room felt thick with unspoken desire, a palpable tension that crackled between them.

As they stumbled inside, So Hee’s other hand, freed from his tie, slid down his chest, her fingers finding the hard ridge of his erection pressing against his trousers. She began to rub him with a knowing pressure, her strokes long and deliberate, sending shivers of anticipation through Martin. He groaned against her lips, his hands tightening on the soft curves of her ass beneath the slinky fabric of her dress, his thumbs digging in, savoring the feel of her yielding flesh.

The sounds in the room were solely those of their heavy, ragged breathing and the wet, smacking noises of their increasingly frantic kiss. They stumbled further into the room, bumping against furniture, their bodies glued together as if magnetically drawn. So Hee’s tongue danced with his, a wild, unrestrained exploration, mirroring the frantic rhythm of their bodies pressed against each other. Martin’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her dress, his palms now sliding against her bare thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her core, the slickness already beginning to form between her legs.

They reached the edge of the king-sized bed, its white sheets a stark contrast to the dark intensity that had enveloped them. With a playful smirk dancing on her lips, So Hee gave Martin a gentle push, sending him tumbling back onto the soft mattress with a surprised grunt. Before he could fully register his new horizontal position, she was straddling him, hiking her shimmering dress high above her waist. The sudden flash of her toned thighs, smooth and bare in the dim light, and the tantalizing glimpse of her incredible body beneath the remaining fabric made Martin’s breath catch in his throat.

She positioned herself directly over his still-rigid cock, which was now pressing insistently against the confines of his trousers. With a slow, deliberate movement, she lowered herself, the pressure of her wet heat against his clothed member eliciting a groan from deep within his chest. She didn’t fully sit down, though, instead hovering just above him, her hips rocking slightly, teasing him with the friction.

The feel of So Hee’s wetness pressing against his clothed erection was intoxicating, a promise of the deluge to come. She didn't just sit; she ground her hips gently against his hard-on, the friction sending jolts of pure, raw pleasure through Martin’s body. He groaned, his hands instinctively reaching up to grip her bare thighs, his fingers digging into the smooth, toned muscle, savoring the feel of her heat radiating through his touch.

So Hee’s fingers continued their slow, torturous journey down his shirt, each tiny click of an unfastened button a countdown to complete exposure. Her nails grazed his skin, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. As the fabric of his shirt parted, revealing glimpses of his toned chest, rippled with lean muscle, she leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. “You’re so hard for me, oppa,” she whispered, her voice husky with barely contained lust. “I can feel you throbbing against my… dress.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest, and she ran a finger across his sculpted pectoral muscle, tracing the hard definition. Her touch was light but deliberate, teasing him mercilessly as she continued to grind her hips against his erection through his pants. Martin’s breath hitched, his eyes locked on her face, a silent plea for her to hurry. He could feel the heat building within him, a desperate need to feel her naked skin against his. “So Hee…” he managed to gasp out, his voice thick with desire.

She chuckled softly, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against his chest. “Patience, oppa,” she purred, her fingers now playing with the light trail of hair that led down his defined abdomen, the hard lines of his abs flexing subtly with each movement. “Good things… take time.” But her eyes held a mischievous glint, a promise that the wait wouldn’t be long. With a final, lingering touch on the last button, his shirt fell open completely, revealing his toned torso, the hard planes of his abs now fully visible to her hungry gaze. So Hee lowered her head, her lips now tracing a wet path down his sternum, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin, her gaze fixed on the hard ridges of his stomach, driving Martin absolutely wild with anticipation. The scent of her perfume, mixed with the lingering aroma of champagne and the raw, animalistic scent of their arousal, filled the air, creating an intoxicating sensory overload.

So Hee abandoned his lips, her gaze dropping with undisguised hunger to his bare chest. Her tongue flicked out, tracing a wet path across his sculpted pectoral muscle, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake. Martin’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening on her smooth thighs as a wave of pure sensation washed over him. Her mouth was soft and warm, her lips lightly sucking on his skin, sending electric jolts straight to his groin.

She continued her slow descent, her kisses becoming more deliberate, more intimate. She laved the skin over his ribs, her hands sliding down his torso, following the hard lines of his obliques. He could feel the heat emanating from her, the intoxicating scent of her perfume mingling with the musky aroma of their arousal. Every touch, every lick, was a deliberate act of seduction, designed to drive him wild with anticipation.

Her mouth reached his abdomen, her tongue now exploring the defined ridges of his abs. She pressed her lips against the hard muscles, sucking gently, making them flex beneath her touch. Martin groaned, his head falling back against the plush pillows, his body arching slightly as pleasure coursed through him. He had never experienced anything quite like this, the raw sensuality of her mouth on his body igniting a firestorm of desire within him.

So Hee’s hands continued their exploration, one sliding down his side, tracing the curve of his hip, while the other remained teasingly close to the waistband of his trousers, her fingertips occasionally brushing against the hard bulge beneath. She knew exactly what she was doing, building the tension, drawing out his anticipation.

Her lips finally reached the waistband of his pants, her warm breath ghosting over the straining fabric just above his engorged cock. She paused there for a torturous moment, her tongue flicking out once more, tasting the fabric as if savoring the promise of what lay beneath. Martin’s hands tightened on her thighs, his knuckles white. “So Hee…” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with barely contained desire.

With a playful smile that promised even more delights, she shifted her position slightly, her lips now pressing directly against the hard outline of his cock through his pants. She licked the fabric slowly, deliberately, the wet heat seeping through the material, making him gasp. Her hands on his hips began to grind her own wetness against his still-clothed erection, the friction eliciting a low moan from deep within her throat.

She continued her sensual assault, her mouth now sucking gently through the fabric, her teeth lightly grazing his hardness. The sensations were almost unbearable, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and agonizing anticipation. Martin’s body was trembling uncontrollably, every nerve ending screaming for release. So Hee, clearly enjoying his torment, continued her slow, deliberate exploration, savoring every groan and gasp she elicited from him as she tasted the toned muscles just above his straining cock, her actions a blatant declaration of her intent to claim every inch of him. The air in the hotel room crackled with unspoken desires, the dim light casting long shadows that danced with their intertwined forms on the bed.

With a final, teasing lick just above the waistband, So Hee’s fingers finally found the button and zipper of Martin’s trousers. Her movements were deft and knowing, practiced hands that seemed to revel in the task. The fabric parted slowly, revealing the thick head of his hard cock straining against the confines of his underwear. So Hee paused for a moment, her gaze locking onto his with a triumphant smirk before she gently pushed the remaining fabric down, finally freeing his engorged member.

Martin’s cock sprang free, thick and hard, pulsing with anticipation. So Hee’s breath hitched as she took in its full length, her eyes widening slightly with undisguised admiration. It stood proud and erect, a testament to the intense arousal he was experiencing. With a soft sigh, she reached out, her fingers gently encircling the base, the warmth of her touch instantly sending a jolt of pure pleasure through him. He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as she began her teasing assault.

Her touch was feather-light at first, her fingers just grazing the smooth skin of his shaft, exploring its length with delicate strokes. She ran her thumb along the underside, teasing the sensitive frenulum, making Martin’s hips twitch involuntarily. He moaned, a deep, guttural sound that rumbled in his chest. So Hee’s smile widened, clearly enjoying the power she held over him.

Her grip tightened slightly, and she began to stroke him with more deliberate movements, her hand sliding up and down his shaft, the friction creating a delicious heat. She varied her touch, sometimes firm and demanding, other times light and teasing, always keeping him on the edge of his control. Her fingers danced around the swollen head, sometimes gently squeezing, sometimes just tracing the delicate ridge.

She brought her face closer, her warm breath caressing his sensitive tip. Martin’s eyes fluttered open, and he watched, mesmerized, as her tongue flicked out, just barely touching the head of his cock. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver of pure ecstasy through his entire body. He groaned louder this time, his fingers gripping her thighs even tighter.

So Hee chuckled softly, a seductive sound that vibrated against his skin. “You like that, oppa?” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She then took the head of his cock into her mouth, sucking gently at first, her lips warm and moist. Martin’s breath caught in his throat, his body tensing as pleasure exploded through him. He could feel the frantic beat of his heart, the blood rushing to his head.

She increased the pressure, her mouth now engulfing the entire head of his cock, her tongue dancing around it, teasing and tantalizing. Martin moaned again, a long, drawn-out sound of pure bliss. His hips began to lift off the bed involuntarily, seeking more of the incredible sensation. So Hee continued her ministrations, her hand still stroking the length of his shaft, creating a symphony of sensations that was driving him absolutely wild.

She pulled back slightly, her lips glistening with his pre-cum. Her eyes locked with his, a knowing smile on her face. “Just getting started, oppa,” she purred, before lowering her head once more, her mouth reopening to claim him again, her teasing touch promising even more exquisite torment and pleasure to come. Martin could only groan, completely at her mercy, lost in the intoxicating sensations she was so expertly delivering. The night was just beginning, and he had a feeling it was going to be one he would never, ever forget

Slowly, deliberately, So Hee released her hold on Martin’s hard cock. Her eyes, dark and shimmering with desire, never left his as she stood up with a languid grace that spoke of practiced seduction. Her movements were slow, each one a tease, a deliberate unveiling of the beauty he had only glimpsed moments before.

She reached a hand up, her slender fingers tracing the delicate line of her collarbone as she slowly slid the strap of her dress off her shoulder. The shimmering fabric, which had so recently clung to every curve, began its descent, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin underneath. The dress slipped down her arm, pooling momentarily at her elbow before cascading down her torso. Martin’s gaze followed its progress, his breath catching in his throat with each inch of skin revealed.

The dress reached her waist, and she paused, her hips swaying slightly, the movement causing the fabric to tease the curve of her buttocks. Then, with a final, lingering look at Martin, a soft smile playing on her lips, she let it fall to the floor in a silken heap, leaving her completely naked before him.

Martin’s eyes drank in the sight of her. Her breasts, freed from the constraint of a bra, stood high and proud, the nipples dark and erect, their tips puckered with anticipation. They were perfectly shaped, full and round, and they bounced ever so slightly with her movements, captivating his gaze. Her torso was sleek and toned, the gentle curve of her waist leading down to her slightly flared hips. The light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows over her skin, highlighting the exquisite lines of her body.

His gaze drifted lower, past the delicate curve of her stomach, and he noticed the dark patch of hair at the apex of her thighs, framing her swollen lips. And then he saw it – her panties, a scrap of lace barely clinging to her hips, were visibly soaked, a testament to the intense arousal he had already elicited from her. The evidence of her desire was blatant, undeniable, and it sent another jolt of pure lust through Martin.

So Hee, observing his reaction, the unmistakable twitch of his still-erect cock straining against his open trousers, let out a soft, knowing chuckle. Her smile widened, a mixture of triumph and playful invitation in her eyes. She ran a hand down her own body, her fingers tracing the line of her collarbone, down between her breasts, over her flat stomach, and finally settling on the wet patch between her legs. Her gaze remained locked with Martin’s, a silent promise of the shared pleasures that were yet to come. The air in the room crackled with unspoken desires, the anticipation hanging heavy and thick, waiting to be broken by touch. She took a slow, deliberate step towards the bed, her naked body a beacon in the dim light, her eyes telling him that the real fun was just about to begin.

With a sinuous grace, So Hee climbed onto the bed, her naked form a breathtaking vision in the soft light. Her fingers trailed down her thighs, reaching for the delicate lace of her now-soaked panties, and with a playful flick, she tossed them onto the bedside table, the small, damp garment a testament to her heightened state of arousal.

She then positioned herself directly over Martin, straddling his prone body with a confidence that was both alluring and intensely erotic. Her toned legs framed his torso, her bare thighs pressing against his still-clothed legs. She leaned forward, her perfectly sculpted body arching slightly, bringing her wet, swollen vagina tantalizingly close to his mouth. Simultaneously, her beautiful face, her lips already glistening from his pre-cum, hovered just inches above his thick, hard cock.

Martin’s breath hitched. He was gazing at the promised land, the very source of her pleasure now displayed so openly, so invitingly before him. Her lips were parted, the delicate folds slick and swollen, glistening with her own natural lubrication. He could see the frantic pulse of her inner muscles, a silent invitation to taste her, to explore the depths of her desire. His senses were overwhelmed by the sight, the intoxicating scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. He felt an almost primal urge to bury his face between her thighs and lose himself in her sweetness, to please this Korean goddess in a way that would leave her utterly breathless and begging for more.

But So Hee had her own plans. With a bold move, she lowered her head further, her eyes locking with Martin’s for a fleeting moment, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as if daring him to try and take control. Then, with a practiced ease that hinted at a comfortable familiarity with such acts, she opened her mouth and slowly, deliberately, took the head of his engorged penis between her lips.

They began slowly, a dance of simultaneous pleasure. So Hee sucked on Martin, her tongue tracing the length of his shaft, her lips creating a firm pressure that sent shivers down his spine. Martin, in turn, laved So Hee’s swollen clitoris, his tongue flicking rhythmically, savoring the sweet, potent nectar of her arousal.

As their confidence grew, their pace quickened. So Hee’s mouth worked Martin’s cock with increasing fervor, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper, her moans mingling with his ragged breaths. Martin’s tongue danced over every inch of So Hee’s vulva, exploring the delicate folds and the slick depths, eliciting cries of pure ecstasy from her. Her hips began to buck against his mouth, urging him closer, deeper, while her hands tightened in his hair, guiding him to her most sensitive spots.

The air in the room crackled with their shared intensity, the sounds of their simultaneous oral pleasure echoing in the stillness. So Hee’s soft whimpers and moans blended with Martin’s gasps and groans, creating a symphony of pure, unadulterated lust. They were lost in the moment, each focused on pleasuring the other, their bodies intertwined in a tangle of limbs and escalating desire. The taste of her sweet juices on his tongue, the feel of her hot mouth on his cock – it was a sensory overload, driving them both closer and closer to the brink of release.

Their mutual pleasure reached its peak, a crescendo of moans and gasps filling the hotel room. Just as Martin felt the intense contractions building within him, So Hee’s body beneath him began to tremble violently, her cries escalating into a series of high-pitched shrieks. Her wetness flowed freely around his mouth, a final surge of pure ecstasy.

And then, the dam broke for Martin. A powerful wave of sensation washed over him, and he shot a large, thick load deep into So Hee’s mouth. Without hesitation, her throat worked, and she swallowed every last drop, her eyes fluttering closed in a blissful surrender. At the same instant, So Hee’s orgasm reached its zenith. Her body arched off the bed, her muscles spasming as she came onto Martin’s face, her warm, slick juices spraying across his skin, her cries echoing her intense release. She writhed and trembled beneath him, completely consumed by the waves of pleasure washing over her.

Both of them lay there, slick with sweat, their breathing still ragged from their shared climax. But the glistening sheen on So Hee’s skin, catching the dim light of the bedside lamp, only amplified her allure in Martin’s eyes. The dampness seemed to cling to her every curve, making her look even more like a goddess sculpted from glistening bronze. A stray drop of his semen still clung to her lower lip, a potent reminder of their recent intimacy, and the sight of it instantly sent a surge of renewed desire coursing through him. His cock, which had softened in the aftermath of his orgasm, began to stir again, hardening with a renewed urgency at the sight of her naked beauty and the tangible evidence of their shared pleasure.

So Hee, sensing the shift in his body, a knowing smile gracing her lips, slowly climbed up his torso. Her wet skin slid against his, the friction arousing them both further. She positioned herself directly over his now fully erect cock, her gaze locked on his as she guided the hard tip with her fingers, her swollen lips already wet and eager. Martin watched, mesmerized, as she prepared to take him inside her once more. The sight of her, glistening with sweat and his seed, straddling him, was almost too much to bear, a fantasy brought vividly to life.

Taking a deep breath, So Hee began to lower herself onto him, her movements slow and deliberate, giving Martin ample time to savor the anticipation. He watched as her wet vulva, still slick from her recent orgasm, came into contact with the head of his throbbing cock. The initial point of contact sent a jolt of pure electricity through both of them.

As she descended further, Martin was surprised by the incredible tightness of her. Despite their previous intense encounters, her inner muscles clenched around him with a fierce grip, making him gasp at the intensity of the sensation. It was a snug fit, almost too tight, and So Hee could only inch her way down, her muscles working hard to accommodate his full length. She grunted softly with the effort, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as she slowly sheathed him, millimeter by agonizing millimeter.

Martin lay beneath her, his breath held captive in his chest, his senses overwhelmed by the feeling of her incredibly tight vagina enveloping his cock. It was a sensation unlike anything he had experienced before, a visceral connection that went beyond mere physical pleasure. He could feel every ridge, every nerve ending of his penis being caressed by her internal grip.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, So Hee reached her limit, her body fully impaled on his hard cock. A gasp escaped her lips, her head thrown back, her long, wet hair cascading down her back. Her eyes squeezed shut, and a low, guttural moan of pure sensation rumbled in her chest. She remained still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being completely filled by him, her tight pussy clenching rhythmically around his engorged member.

Martin could feel the warmth and wetness surrounding him, the incredible pressure almost intoxicating. He instinctively arched his back, pushing deeper inside her, reveling in the perfect fit. Their bodies were now intimately connected, slick with sweat and desire, a perfect union forged in the heat of their passionate encounter. So Hee leaned forward, her damp breasts pressing against his chest, her heart pounding against his. The silence in the room was broken only by their ragged breathing and the occasional soft moan of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

With a low moan that vibrated against Martin’s chest, So Hee began to ride him. Her movements were initially tentative, a gentle rocking back and forth as she familiarized herself with the feeling of his thick cock deep inside her incredibly tight vagina. But as the pleasure began to build, her pace quickened, her hips grinding against his with increasing fervor.

Martin watched, mesmerized, as her naked body moved above him. The glistening sheen of sweat emphasized every curve and muscle, her breasts swaying with each up and down motion, the dark tips of her nipples brushing against his chest, sending sparks of sensation through him. Her head was thrown back, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy, her lips parted as she let out soft, breathy moans that filled the room. The sight of this internationally famous actress, this Korean goddess whose face adorned magazines and billboards, riding him with such uninhibited passion was almost surreal. He could only imagine the millions of men in her home country who would give anything for just a glimpse of her, let alone to see her completely naked and being pleasured so intensely by a simple waiter from another land.

So Hee’s rhythm became more insistent, her hips now moving with a frantic energy. She would ride him high, arching her back as she rose, the head of his cock almost slipping free before she plunged back down, taking his full length deep inside her with a gasp of pure delight. Each downward thrust sent a wave of intense sensation through Martin, the feeling of her tight, wet vagina gripping his shaft almost unbearable in its pleasure. He could feel her inner muscles clenching around him, milking him with every movement, and he knew she was experiencing a pleasure she had rarely, if ever, known before. Her cries became louder, more unrestrained, as she rode him harder and faster, her body completely consumed by the escalating sensations. “Oh, fuck… oppa… you feel so good… so big,” she gasped out between moans, her words a testament to the intense pleasure he was giving her.

Martin, feeling his own desire reaching a fever pitch, gripped So Hee’s hips, his hands sinking into the slick flesh of her thighs. He began to thrust upwards, meeting her downward ride with a powerful force, their bodies moving together in a primal rhythm. Each upward surge of his cock deep inside her elicited a fresh wave of ecstatic cries from So Hee, her head falling back as she surrendered completely to the sensation.

As they fucked with increasing intensity, Martin’s hands left her hips and moved to cup her full, sweat-slick breasts. He squeezed them firmly, his thumbs teasing the hard, erect nipples, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from So Hee. She leaned forward, her lips crashing against his in a desperate, hungry kiss. Their tongues tangled together, a wet and frantic dance mirroring the rhythm of their hips. The kiss grew more intense with each thrust, their mouths devouring each other as they rode the waves of pleasure.

So Hee’s moans became louder, more unrestrained, as Martin’s powerful thrusts combined with his expert handling of her breasts. She would pull back slightly, her eyes locking with his, filled with a raw, untamed desire, before slamming down onto his cock again with a force that made them both cry out. Her hands, still gripping his shoulders, tightened with each intense movement, her body completely consumed by the escalating sensations. The sounds of their passionate coupling – the wet slap of their skin against skin, their ragged breathing, and their unrestrained cries of pleasure – filled the hotel room, a testament to the raw, unadulterated lust that had consumed them both

Their rhythm intensified, a frantic dance of pure, unadulterated lust. So Hee’s riding became more aggressive, her hips bucking against Martin’s with a primal energy, her moans echoing through the room. Martin matched her intensity, thrusting deeply inside her with a forceful rhythm, his hard cock pounding against her cervix with each upward surge. Their sweat-slicked bodies slapped together, the sounds of their coupling a raw and visceral symphony of pleasure.

So Hee’s kisses grew more demanding, her teeth nipping at Martin’s lips as she sucked on his tongue with a fierce hunger. Her hands left his shoulders and trailed down his chest, her nails lightly scratching his skin, sending shivers of delight through him. She would occasionally break the kiss to gasp out his name, her voice thick with passion, before plunging her mouth back onto his.

Martin’s hands continued to explore her breasts, his fingers kneading and squeezing the soft flesh, his thumbs circling her hard nipples until they were taut and aching for more. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his chest, a wild drumbeat mirroring the frenetic pace of their lovemaking. He arched his back, thrusting deeper and harder into her, reveling in the feeling of her tight, wet vagina gripping him so fiercely.

“You feel so good, So Hee,” Martin groaned, his voice hoarse with exertion and desire. “So fucking tight.”

“Oh, oppa…” she gasped, her body shuddering with pleasure as he hit her sweet spot again and again. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

Their frenzied rhythm reached a fever pitch, their bodies locked together in a desperate race towards the ultimate release. So Hee’s cries became almost animalistic, her back arching as she rode Martin with every ounce of strength she possessed. Martin’s thrusts were deep and powerful, his cock pounding into her with a relentless force that made them both gasp. The wet sounds of their frantic coupling echoed loudly in the hotel room, a testament to their raw, unadulterated passion.

Suddenly, So Hee’s body stiffened, her muscles clenching fiercely around Martin’s shaft. A series of sharp, ecstatic cries ripped from her throat as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her. At the same moment, Martin felt an overwhelming surge of sensation building within him. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and he let out a guttural roar as he emptied his load deep inside her, his thick semen pulsing into her tight, contracting vagina.

They both froze for a moment, suspended in the aftershocks of their earth-shattering climax. So Hee collapsed forward onto Martin’s chest, her body still trembling with the force of her orgasm. Martin held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her sweaty back, his own body still shuddering from the intense release. Their breathing was ragged and shallow, their hearts pounding in unison.

Slowly, their frantic movements subsided. So Hee lifted her head, her face flushed and her eyes glazed with a blissful haze. A contented sigh escaped her lips as she nestled back down onto Martin’s chest, their sweat-soaked bodies clinging together. They lay there for a long moment, exhausted but completely satisfied, the only sounds in the room their heavy breathing and the occasional soft murmur of contentment. The passionate storm had finally passed, leaving them both drained, sweaty, and utterly spent in the aftermath of their explosive simultaneous climax.

The morning light filtering through the hotel window gently nudged Martin awake. His eyes fluttered open, and a soft smile immediately touched his lips as he remembered the incredible night he had just shared. He turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat. So Hee was standing by the vanity, her back to him, a plush white bathrobe loosely tied around her waist. But the knot was precariously low, revealing the enticing curve of her bare back and hinting at the delectable view that lay ahead. With every subtle movement as she brushed her hair, the robe would shift, offering fleeting glimpses of her side, the smooth line of her hip, and the tantalizing swell of her breasts.

Martin watched her, still feeling a pleasant ache in his muscles and a lingering warmth in his heart. The memory of her passionate cries and the feel of her body wrapped around his flooded his senses. He was still slightly dazed, finding it hard to believe that he had spent the night with this incredibly famous and beautiful woman.

So Hee turned around, a bright and cheerful smile on her face, her hair now cascading over her shoulders. She adjusted the tie of her bathrobe, perhaps slightly more securely now that she was facing him, though it still left plenty to the imagination. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, her voice soft and slightly husky from sleep.

"Morning," Martin managed to reply, his voice still a bit rough. He pushed himself up against the pillows, his gaze lingering on her.

She walked over to the bedside table, picking up a bottle of water and taking a sip. "I have to stay in the city for another three days for some more fashion events and photoshoots," she said, her eyes meeting his. She paused for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. "And I might need a… personal assistant for these next three days. Someone to keep her company, show her around a bit, and make sure she doesn't get too lonely." Her gaze flickered down to him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Would you be interested in the position, Martin-ssi?"

[deadmomjokes]

Betwixt Christmas gift cash and Steam Family Sharing workaround shenanigans, the husband and I have finally started Baldur's Gate 3.

Went in basically blind except for knowing the names of the companions and the fact that Astarion is a vampire (couldn't miss that cultural osmosis).

We also came in on two different meta-levels as players.

He is very familiar with D&D, D&D-based games, computer games in general, and these sorts of games specifically. He's also that kind of person that plays things on Extreme Difficulty Mode for fun. He quits when something isn't challenging enough. His idea of relaxing, rewarding gameplay is ultra-hard-mode Elden Ring and Dark Souls.

I, on the other hand, am bad at games. Full stop. I have lost Wii Mario Kart to a 6 year old, repeatedly. I get hopelessly lost even when there's detailed maps, trackers, compasses, and flagged waypoints. I also panic in combat situations and have no strategic ability aside from "stand there, hit it, and hope it doesn't move." I'm more of a low-stakes visual novel sort of gamer. Stardew Valley is as intense as I get.

He is playing a Seldarine Drow warlock in a pact with an archfey. She's a noble with a ridiculously high Charisma score, a perfectly balanced spell loadout, and an even more balanced overall stat build. She's DPS without being totally squishy and helpless, and has advantage to almost everything. She also has an impeccable fashion sense and always looks put together, even when on death's door to a brain worm. Or, to put it in a way my husband would loathe, she got that drip.

I am playing a ginger himbo of a high elf fighter with -1 to Charisma and a -1000 to common sense. He's an impulsive maniac with, somehow, a +3 to intimidation despite being a truly gentle soul that believes every sob story he comes across. He's a sweaty, dusty, grubby little feral child (outlander background) with the world's messiest ponytail and greasepaint-turned-eyeliner that a 90s ex emo kid would be proud of. And that's him trying to look presentable. Despite having an impressive dexterity score, my natural disadvantage to dexterity (and Wisdom and Intelligence) as the player makes it so that this man bumbles his way into everything and only gets out by making horrifying threats he has absolutely no intention of following up on, or by being forced to stand his ground and take it on the jaw.

So this was going to be An Experience no matter what. And boy, it sure has been.

Thus far, we have:

Accidentally pacifism'd our way into every Goblin/Absolute aligned settlement we've encountered on the pure luck of husband's choice to play a Drow because he thought it would add an interesting dynamic. That interesting dynamic, he thought, would be difficulty. He thought being a Drow would make it harder because of the general hatred toward them. He's technically good-aligned, but, y'know, planet-of-hats racism means he was expecting it to work against him, which he likes because he likes when things are hard. Only now it's basically a free pass into all the areas we'd normally have to fight or sneak into. Great for our shared pacifist tendencies, but LOL

Lost a full hour of progress because my computer screen is tiny and bad at graphics and I hadn't learned all the controls yet, so while trying to investigate a hole in the floor of an abandoned church I tripped in face-first and got us into an unescapable, imminent-TPK situation, whereupon the game immediately autosaved for the first time since waking up on the beach. We have since learned to spam the quicksave button liberally.

Accepted a ton of mutually exclusive quests, half of which we have no intention of doing, just to try and get out of situations without combat, so now the mini map now looks like a cubist rendition of a simple sun drawing and I'm SO worried it's going to come crashing down and get us shanked in our sleep.

MET BEST BOY DOGGO I WILL DIE FOR SCRATCH 😭

Discovered husband's character is, build wise, a carbon-copy of Wyll. This was 100% unintentional and he's BIG mad about it LOL RIP

Impulsively pushed a button in a crypt without saving and woke up a bunch of skellies we weren't prepared for, but were somehow also saved by that same impulsivity because I had previously run around the entire area and looted every single skeleton no matter how useless it was to my character, so they all woke up without their weapons so HAH take that I TOLD YOU being a klepto would pay off

Immediately after this fortuitous stroke of fate, having learned exactly nothing, my impulsive maniac opened the shiny sarcophagus before consulting anyone or healing. Luckily it wasn't cursed or trapped or full of enemies (it was Withers, and I'm love), but I'm now not allowed to open or interact with anything bigger than a crate without announcing it first so husband has the chance to go NO WAIT LET ME SAVE FIRST

Sneaked into a secret underground passage, whereupon my husband sent his invisible'd familiar around to carefully scout the area, discovering the button that would turn off the overpowered guardian statue. My character then readied a crossbow shot to hit said button, but in trying to move out of the way of the other party members, stepped right into the statue's attack circle. I panicked, tried to move, but couldn't figure out how to unselect the attack I could no longer use, and tried to fix it by pausing. But all of that just resulted in me standing there, doing nothing, until I finally dropped dead. Luckily I passed my saving throws, and more luckily still, my husband managed to stop laughing long enough to eldritch blast the statue to pieces and come get me.

So anyway, we're having the best time. I know we're late to the party, but it really is so good. I may have even teared up a little during the dream sequence with the psychedelic neon light guardian warriors. This is going to consume my brain for the next few months, and I'm happy to have paid for the privilege. 10/10, absolutely deserves that GOTY and the $60 price tag both.

No spoilers please, we're only level 3 and just encountering the Goblin Camp. (We've met everyone but Karlach, I believe.) But rest assured, as we learn and discover more I will come yelling and seeking those who will screech with me. Probably mostly about my new sons that I've acquired, namely the lying purple sadsack trash wizard with some horrifying kind of chronic illness and/or addiction, and the prettiest most specialist murder machine who definitely won't admit it but is definitely gonna need a hug when I finish breaking down those obviously performative emotional walls.

Also, Lae'zel scares me. Please stop yelling at me, you cranky fish woman, I'm trying my best here 😭

[boekenworm]

Two in One Book Review

I wouldn't normally do this, but I finished both books on the same day, and they shaped my day (well most of the evening / night) as well. I'll start with the first book I finished.

Legends & Lattes

Travis Baldree

Day started: July 17th 2024

Day finished: July 20th 2024

This was a quick read for me. When I first started, the fantasy talk overwhelmed me for the first few pages. I'm not used to fantasy anymore; I read a lot of horror and nonfiction and my read before that was an autobiographic book about an autistic young woman. It was dizzying when I got back into fiction - with high fantasy nonetheless! As I read more my brain started to ease into the story and I could read just fine, in fact it was really what they advertised it would be. High fantasy, low stakes. I enjoyed every second of it. I felt so cozy and I wish I could live in that world. I felt right at home, and I didn't know that cozy fantasy could be a thing for me. It's what stardew valley does for me when I need to relax with a game, but now with a book. Ultimate palette cleanser. Turn off your brain and go drink some coffee.

4/5 ⭐️

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The Girl In White

Lindsay Currie

Day Started: June 16th 2024

Day Finished: July 20th 2024

A Middle Grade (?) Horror book that grabbed my attention because of the cover art (and the low price). This was a nice surprise! The first time I picked this up I expected to breeze through it, but I ended up having to pause it and read other books. I wasn't as hooked as I was the second time I picked it up, in which I DID breeze through it and I was glad that I picked it back up. The story is interesting and has a mystery to it. I would recommend it for youngsters that like horror but aren't old enough for those creepypastas.

3.5/5 ⭐️

[lettucedloophole]

getting back into darkest dungeon and im terrified. gaming is so high stakes .. i just want a game where i can chill. Minecraft? high stakes, lose diamonds in lava. stardew valley? pass out, fine and lose time. slay the spire is low stakes because you're supposed to lose over and over again. darkest dungeon is semi-lowstakes but I DONT WANT TO LOSE MY PEOPLE I HAVE EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENTS TO THEM

[huigdrfer]

Trump’s "Golden Card" Scheme: Making America Rich Again?

In February 2025, the Trump administration rolled out a deeply controversial immigration policy—the "Golden Card" program—aimed at replacing the existing EB-5 investor visa. Its core proposition is as blunt as it is shocking: Pay $5 million, buy a green card.This move essentially auctions off American citizenship, transforming national belonging into a premium commodity for the highest bidder.

Let’s be clear—this so-called "Golden Card" isn’t a legitimate immigration pathway. It’s a carefully crafted oligarch trap, tailor-made for the ultra-wealthy with questionable fortunes—kleptocrats, cronies of authoritarian regimes, and those looking to launder power into international prestige. In short, it’s a green light for shady global capital. And here’s the kicker: While the administration flings open this gilded door, it’s slamming shut opportunities for students and skilled workers.The message? Either wait years in the dysfunctional EB-5 backlog or cough up $5 million for a fast pass.   This isn’t policy—it’s a fire sale of American credibility, sliced into $5 million portions.​

Legally, the 'Golden Card' is a lawsuit magnet. Experts agree it’s almost certainly unconstitutional, with little chance of swift implementation. As for Trump’s attempt to bypass Congress via executive order? Dead on arrival. The Constitution and the Immigration and Nationality Act couldn’t be clearer: only Congress can create new visa categories. ​​ As Republican Congressman Chip Roy bluntly put it, 'This is auctioning off citizenship—a gross betrayal of American values!'   Even if the plan survives legal challenges, its long-term viability hinges on congressional approval—a non-starter in today’s fractured political climate.   History shows why: executive immigration schemes (like Obama’s 'International Entrepreneur Parole') get scrapped get scrapped the moment a new administration takes over.  Investors shelling out $5m may end up left clutching a revocable IOU from the government.​

Don’t fall for the White House’s glossy spin—this "Golden Card" is no golden ticket. As Lora Ries, director of the Heritage Foundation’s Border Security and Immigration Center, warned: "Any immigration benefit invites fraud… People will say and do anything to come to America." She notes that EB-5 fraud is rampant, and the "Golden Card" will likely repeat the same high-reward, low-risk scams. Silicon Valley Democrat and immigration reform advocate Ajay Bhutoria was even harsher, calling the plan "a regression in U.S. immigration policy" that shuts out millions of skilled workers. This isn’t reform—it’s a high-stakes gamble exploiting global elite insecurity, putting a price tag on citizenship itself. We must reject this pay-to-play logic—national belonging should never be a bidding war item.​​

The hypocrisy is staggering. The same administration that demonizes ordinary immigrants, refugees, and tech workers as "threats" now rolls out the red carpet for foreign oligarchs whose values clash with America’s—as long as their checks clear. Remember Trump’s infamous line? "I know some Russian oligarchs—they’re very good people."  Now, with the "Golden Card," sanctioned billionaires could literally buy their way in.​​

This policy will deepen America’s divides, turning wealth inequality into an uncrossable chasm and hardening class stratification like concrete. It sends a dangerous message: Money trumps civic responsibility and contribution.When citizenship becomes a commodity, we’re smashing the very foundation of the American Dream—the belief that hard work and talent, not just wealth, can earn opportunity and belonging. This isn’t just an economic issue—it’s a fundamental betrayal of what America stands for.​​

An America that sells its soul to the highest bidder will never be "great again."​