#gorgeous and stupid check

[desertthorn]

Making fun of this beautiful man is my new hobby.

Mostly because he makes it so easy lol

Look at this dork.

[sieglinde-freud]

do you think intelligent systems remembers that they gave eirika a character outside of her brother or did we just make that up in our heads because they dont seem to want us to remember that

[vellichorsdesire]

i think both me and them would very much enjoy having an aquarium in the home. just stare at it no thoughts for an hour and watch the fish swim around nicely

[larsnicklas]

i don’t really have the brainpower right now that would be required to talk about the persistent and pervasive attitude among so many hockey fans that swedes are soft and/or lazy unlike their good hardworking canadian compatriots but i have to say it is exhausting!!! it is 2024 we have to let go of these stereotypes lmao

[thinkinonsense]

i was wondering if you could write some dad!logan with a reader whos lauras teacher and maybe laura talks to him about her teacher. thank you!!!!

dad!logan x teacher!reader

laura was a bright student; one of the brightest in the entire class but there was a small behavioral issue. the young girl would often beat up any student who stole her supplies or made her angry. one of the only people who could calm her down was you; her favorite teacher.

"how was school, kid?" logan asked laura when she walked into the house.

"fine," she answered.

"no more fightin'?" he arched a stern brow at the girl who had been sent home with notes regarding her classroom behavior.

"no." laura glares then explains how you have helped her control her anger.

this wasn't the first time laura had rambled on about you. the young girl's eyes lit up as she told her dad about the pretty young teacher and everything she taught her that day. logan had never met you, the closest being the letters laura brought home to him, on colorful decorative stationery and the one time he saw you through the classroom window when he dropped laura off.

logan thought you were gorgeous even with stray pencils hold up your hair and marker stains on your palms. too pretty to give a man like him the time of day. laura compared you to someone out of a fairytale book.

you seemed to be a good influence on laura so logan had no concerns or complaints. his daughter would often emphasize that there was no ring on your finger either. logan didn't bother entertaining the idea of laura setting him up with her twenty-something year old teacher. instead, he stuck to listening to all of her stories about you and your class.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

every saturday morning, you stuck to the same routine; go to your favorite coffee shop and work on next weeks lesson plan then head to the grocery store. it wasn't much but it kept you busy.

as you stroll through the aisles and check items off of your list, a pair of small feet some running your way. a man is heard angrily calling after the child clinging to you.

"hello, sweet girl!" you smile down at laura. "what are you doing here this early?"

before she could answer, a tall older gentlemen approach's you and a swarm of butterflies threaten to fall loose from your mouth. was this laura's father? this -to put it simply- hot man dressed in jeans and a flannel.

logan's mouth opened to scold his daughter but you stop him.

"you must be, mr. howlett?"

your smile was deadly, logan thought to himself. he couldn't stop staring at your soft features. logan had never been left this speechless, all he could do was nod.

luckily for both of you, laura did all the introducing. you tell him how amazing of a kid she is and all the accomplishments she's reached in your classroom. logan was only half listening, a bit too occupied with the way your lips moved as you spoke. he finally managed to spit out a 'thank you' for helping laura.

the young girl wasn't stupid, even she could see that something was happening between the two of you. if she had it her way, you would be coming over to join them for dinner. logan promised her hamburgers tonight.

"well, i should let the two of you continue your shopping." you say politely, not wanting your gawking at her father become anymore noticeable. "see you on monday, laura."

you barely moved three steps before you heard a shuffle and logan stopped you. unbeknownst to you, laura gave him a swift kick in the leg. she wasn't going to let him blow this for her.

"y-you should join us for dinner sometime." he stutters. what happened to the smooth ladies man he once was? had age really caught up to him already?

you hesitate to answer. of course you wanted to. it's been so long since a kind, attractive man has asked you to dinner but this would definitely come off as unprofessional.

"as a thank you." he adds, hoping that will help swayed you.

the moment you look down at laura's wide smile, awaiting your answer; you knew you would cave.

"I would love to."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

a/n: might need to do a part two because i love this concept <3

[whatsagirltoblogabout]

Bad book adaptations aren't a necessary evil, it's a skill issue, and I'm tired of hearing otherwise

okay here's the thing. is it hard to translate a story from a written medium to a visual one? yes, of course, nobody's denying that. there will always be things that get lost in translation, sacrifices that must be made to suit the new format. HOWEVER. The strategy and prioritization when making the choices regarding what to sacrifice, and the creativity in translating a story through unconventional means in order to maintain its heart and soul, is very much within the control of the people doing the translating. And at this point, after all these years of disappointing book to movie adaptations, it's simply a skill issue. The excuses about how hard it is to make a movie that fully encapsulates a book have become stale and unbelievable at this point. Like yeah, we get it, you can't include every single event that takes place within the plot of a 600-page book in a 90-page script. But, armed with a deep understanding of the themes, characterizations, and narrative structure of said book, it is more than possible to consolidate a story into a shorter time frame while still maintaining the plot and emotional through-line, without needing to reinvent the story to supposedly "make it cinematic." Book adaptations don't get greenlit unless the source material has cinematic potential to begin with, so egregious changes in the name of filmmaking are simply a display of arrogance and ignorance - an admission of defeat. Obviously, there are some changes that can be improvements upon the source material as well, but those are changes made with the best interest of the original story in mind. Not changes made out of convenience. I'm just sick and tired of hearing poor adaptations excused under the guise of "necessary changes when going from a written medium to a visual one." No, those changes are not necessary, you're just bad at adaptation. It's a skill issue. Get good and stop ruining great stories.

[ebodebo]

Hey, Waiter!

NSFW CONTENT

next

—you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck

—jason todd x f!reader

—2.7k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

"Honey, cross your legs."

"Honey, sit up straighter."

"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."

These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.

It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.

So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.

"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.

Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.

"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.

"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.

"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.

Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.

"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.

"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest

"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.

"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.

Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.

"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.

"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.

"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.

"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.

"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.

While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.

"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.

You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the level and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.

Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances over at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and letting out a cloud of smoke.

"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.

"You know the latch and all."

"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.

"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.

"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.

"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.

"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.

"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.

"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.

"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.

"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.

"Jason," he adds.

Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.

"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.

"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.

"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.

"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."

You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."

"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”

You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.

"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.

"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.

"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.

"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.

"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.

"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.

"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?

You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.

"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.

"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.

"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.

"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.

His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.

"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.

You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.

"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.

"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.

"Touché," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.

He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.

You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.

"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.

"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.

"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.

"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.

"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.

You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.

"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.

You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.

Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.

You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.

"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.

Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.

a/n: jason todd = thought daughter

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[r1elle]

atsumu who just gets so annoyed at that stupid plushie on your bed.

at first, he denies it. he denies it because the whole matter is just so above and beyond him.

to be genuinely pissed at some stuffed animal? please. he’s THE MSBY Black Jackals’ Setter. a PRO volleyball player. and most importantly, a GROWN man. being jealous over some sewn up cotton? goodness.

but the nights you had abandoned and turned your back towards him just to unconsciously reach for that plushie and cuddle with it instead began to frequent more than atsumu could tolerate.

hes definitely death threatening that stuffed beast (his own choice of words) the morning after.

is this what those scientists in shows felt like when their own experiments went against them? because seeing that white teddy bear he had prided himself in buying as a gift for your anniversary come and replace him during the hours of your slumber wasn’t really the nicest feelings ever.

so, if you find a rather jolly and humming atsumu sipping his coffee at 8:30 am in the morning, just know that he’s feeling really accomplished and expecting your figure to be the only thing he’s holding from the moment you close your eyes, and up for when you open them once again.

“mornin’, baby. whats up with the upset brows?

oh, but don’t look at how the attic just so happened to have its entrance slightly ajar. unfortunately, doing a clean job wasn’t really in atsumu’s blood that day.

____

“atsumu, have you seen the bear you got me for our anniversary? i’m worried… i cant seem to find it. it’s just.. gone?”

“eh? that big thing? how would it even get lost in the first place?”

“i know.. it’s so weird..”

“maybe yer’ just not looking hard enough, sweet.”

“but how—?……also, why’s the attic open?”

“ya look beautiful, by the way.”

“wh—?”

“just woke up too. so gorgeous. wouldn’t expect less from ya. c’mon, let’s go on a walk.”

“but atsumu, the att—

“i think the tulips you planted finally bloomed. let’s check, hm?”

“i just planted them three days ago—?? hey! atsumu! ats—!!”

well. taking an unexpected walk around the neighbourhood on an empty stomach definitely didn’t make things any better that morning.

——

though, if it alleviates anything within you, perhaps do take note at the horror on atsumu’s face upon the sight of your child dusting off that same white teddy bear she had “found while treasure hunting in the attic!” six years later.

as you make a snide comment (totally not directed at your awfully tense husband), and lead your daughter to washing the now roughed up plush, atsumu couldn’t help but feel as if that bear had been plotting against him, making sure to come back with even more malice for their inevitable reunion. (what a poetic mind, atsumu.)

and so, with no you to hold and to feel, and with no daughter to keep close by,

the bed surely felt colder that night.

stupid bear.

———————————————————————————

shameless plug but if u want more atsumu then.. heheh —> loser tsumu ;3

but yeah i don’t think the atsumu hyperfixation is ever gonna end

[egirl-vrissy]

why does my brain go stupid mode when i see a woman with ginger hair? 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

(This one ran away with me, whoops)

Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨

This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.

Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.

And go to his DMs.

And send him a GIF.

Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.

"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.

Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅

Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑

Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess

Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass

Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.

Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?

Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-

(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)

-a little more human-shaped.

Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉

Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!

They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.

He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.

Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.

He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.

Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.

Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.

Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???

Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:

@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island

@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero

[ariaste]

So excited to announce my next book, YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION, coming out on September 17th! If you've never read any of my books before, no worries--this is a standalone, so you can jump right in without any extra context. (The stunning cover art is by the amazingly talented @holographings -- go check out all his other art!)

"Alongside the sexiness and absurdity (and the sexy absurdity) in Yield Under Great Persuasion is a tender, resonant story of second and third chances and being loved when we need it most and feel we deserve it least. Evocative, emotional, and endlessly entertaining." —Jules Arbeaux, author of Lord of the Empty Isles

SUMMARY:

Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam still hasn’t forgiven the bastard. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of small disappointments and misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. But then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.

This book might be for you if:

You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being a one-sided situationship, and meanwhile the other person is living through a "hopelessly yearning for childhood crush" trope

you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they've been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn't figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn't realized that Person A doesn't even know about his feelings

You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it

you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care

you know that merely saying sorry for wronging someone doesn't just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology

this one's for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u

you like gods who don't have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business

when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees

you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing

a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they've got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it's cool

plant magic!!!!!

"god of temptation and evil"? No, actually that's the god of self-indulgence, self-care, personal boundaries, and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to.

You can preorder it in ebook, hardback, and paperback from most retailers (with more coming soon), but if you'd like to order an autographed copy from me directly, just fill out this form! :) Signups for autographed copies close on August 31st, so hurry hurry hurry if you want to nab yours!

(Signal boosts are very much appreciated! 🙏)

[girlboypersonthingy]

Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.

BYE I WENT AND LOOKED AT THE ART TOO THIS IS SO GOOD!!! Thank you for the request! And enjoy 😘

Notes: fem!reader, suggestive themes, just a short little drabble

Lucifer x reader- Honey Bunny 🤍

“(Y/N)…I look stupid.” Lucifer grumbles through the bathroom door to you, looking at himself in the full length mirror in front of him. He hated the way he looked in red pants and suspenders?! Like come on…and this ugly blue bow tie that clashes horribly with the rest of the outfit. “I’m not wearing the bunny ears. I’m not!” He complains loudly, pouting a bit when he hears you laughing on the other side of the door.

“I’m sure you look adorable, babe! Come on, it’s a costume party. Everyone will be in silly costumes!” You call out to him as you are finishing up your makeup. “Yes, but I’m the king of hell. I don’t want this to make me look bad. I dunno…just haven’t been out in a while. I’m feeling quite anxious, love.” Lucifer confesses in a soft and worried tone, still staring at himself in the mirror. He usually wasn’t such a poor sport when it came to these things but it’s been way too long since he’s attended a party, especially one thrown by one of the deadly sins. Luci is feeling the pressure.

A few minutes pass as you perfect your lipstick and check your hair in the mirror. Finally you slip your heels on, layer on a couple sprays of your favorite perfume and exit the bathroom. As soon as you pass the threshold of the door way, all of Lucifer’s worries dissolve away in seconds. A wicked smirk finds your lips as Lucifer feels himself becoming nervous for a whole other reason. He couldn’t get any words out, not one little whimper would even leave him. He was star struck by you in that gorgeous low cut dress with all that glamorous makeup on. Fuck, he knew it would be impossible not to stare at your chest nearly overflowing from your dress all night.

“Aww, baby! You look so cute.” Lucifer huffs at your cooing. “Pleeeaasssee put the ears on, I wanna see.” You plead as you slowly close the distance between you two. “Come on, Luci. Wear ‘em for me~” You continue your advance on him, getting so close that he has no choice but to stumble back onto the bed behind him. Putting on your best pout and prettiest puppy dog eyes, you lean down to get nice and close to his furiously blushing face. Without saying a word, Lucifer puts the white fuzzy bunny ears on his head, still staring up at you with stars in his eyes. Immediately, you perk up with a bright smile.

“Yay! Oh my goodness, you are too cute! Ugh, I love you.” Quickly, you lean in and kiss his lips, lingering there for a second before pulling back. “Oh, my dear, you are so beautiful. Wow.” Lucifer mumbles quietly as he looks you up and down. You couldn’t stifle your giggles as you admire your lipstick stamped so perfectly on his own lips. “You know…” You start before slowly slipping your fingers under his suspenders and gripping them tight in your fists. “We don’t have to go.” Teasingly, you crawl into his lap, now straddling him on the bed as you use his suspenders to get him closer. “We could just…stay home.” You kiss his cheek. “I could ease your anxiety.” You kiss his other cheek then his forehead. “And you can mess up my makeup all you want~”

You sit up straight now and Lucifer looses all his self control as his hands come to your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he finds himself perfectly face to face with your busty chest. His entire face from neck to ears is rapidly turning darker shades of red as a dopey smile widens across his cheeks. Bitting your bottom lip, you shimmy your chest in his face. “Whatdya say, my little honey bunny~?” Lucifer becomes weak and flops back on the bed, laying on his back as you straddle his lap still, enjoying seeing him in this state of desire and embarrassment. He puts an arm over his face in hopes of hiding from you but of course, you pull his arm away and look down at him with a loving gaze. He looks so precious right now- in this silly costume just for you, blushing and sweating and speechless all for you, and covered in your lipstick too.

“No, no…” With a loud and exaggerated sigh, Lucifer sits up and gives you gentle hug, now letting his head rest on your plush chest. “We should go. It’ll be good to make an appearance, catch up with some friends.” After a tight hug, you happily hop off his lap and grab his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Great choice, my love. This will be fun! And I’ll be with you the whole time.” You assure him before leaning over and straightening out his bow tie. Without warning, you use the fabric around his neck to pull him into another heated kiss, this time Lucifer’s hands come to your hips as he hums against your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so cute. Promise you’ll mess up my makeup later then?” You nuzzle your nose against his face as you await his reply. He hesitates, obviously flustered and trying to keep his dick under control. “Anything you want, my love.” And now you’re giggling again, pulling him by the hand out the front door. “Oh! I forgot, lemme get something to wipe your face. You’ve got lipstick every-“

Lucifer pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist as he smirks devilishly. He continues to pull you along out the door. “I already look silly, right? Eh, just leave it. It’ll let everyone know that the babe in the black lipstick beside me… Yeah, she’s mine and I’m hers.” It’s your turn to blush and oh boy, do you turn red.

And the whole car ride there, you’re just covering him in more and more kiss marks, even leaving a hicky or two on him as he fondles your chest and slowly becomes drunk off your lips. You two walk into the party looking disheveled but happy, Luci covered in lipstick and sweat while your hair is a bit of a mess now and your lipstick is almost completely wiped off. Hes really glad he decided to wear the bunny ears after all because he loves the way you keep looking at him tonight.

[spicycinnabun]

Eddie tapped his pen against his clipboard, sighing loudly as the second to last auditionee left the stage, accordion and all. He crossed the name out on his sheet. “Okay, no way in hell.”

He shook his head and glared when Gareth weakly protested, “He was okay…”

“No, man. My grandmother has more vocal talent than him, and she had a laryngectomy in fifty-five. Let’s hope this last guy is better, or we’ll have to put out more ads.” Eddie climbed up onto the table, sitting cross-legged on it. It had been a long day of auditions, and he wasn’t feeling particularly friendly. He double-checked his clipboard, then called out, “Steve Harrington? Come on out.”

The sound of footsteps echoed through the theatre. Eddie’s spine straightened a little at the figure who appeared from behind the curtain and stepped into the spotlight, his eyes narrowing.

First of all, Steve Harrington was preppy. There was absolutely nothing Corroded Coffin about this dude. He was perfectly coiffed. No piercings, no grease in his hair, no visible tattoos. From his clean white t-shirt to his mom jeans, down to his sporty Nike’s, he couldn’t be less metal if he tried.

Secondly, he was gorgeous. There were no ifs, ands or buts about that. Eddie fought to keep his indifferent, slightly disgruntled expression on his face. Fought harder to keep his heart from beating a little faster.

This was stupid. There was no way this fucking angel-haired, Ken dolled, boy band of a man was going to have their sound.

Eddie’s pen was already poised beside Steve Harrington, about to cross it out.

Then Harrington leaned into the mic, introduced himself with a confidence and swagger reminiscent of Presley, and started singing.

Eddie’s wrist jerked, his pen halting. His eyes widened. Behind him, Gareth and Jeff shared an equally wide-eyed look, Gareth grinning like a loon.

Well, shit.

…So, maybe Eddie was wrong.

[2tarbell]

whenever BSF!RAFE thinks he’s been a little too mean to KOOK!READER, he gets her on her back and gives it to her nice & deep. someone has to keep in check, let her prance around like she’s in control, but he can tell sometimes a tender hand is needed to get through to her. his poor little best friend, just too in over her head. it must be difficult having to be as gorgeous and commanding as she is.

yet when he’s drilling into her, hips snug to the back of her thighs, she’s nothing but sweet and blubbering. mouth stretched around his fingers and drool collecting quickly. it’s quite the sight to see, the kook princess silent for once. rafe fucks her like she deserves, sure — putting her in her place and letting her mouth off a bit. but sometimes it’s more satisfying when he renders her completely stupid with his cock.

“takin’ this dick sooo well, princess. yeah, that’s what you do, huh? you were jus’— jus’ made to get fucked dumb by me, weren’tchu? i know, i know — let it out, dollface.”

[daenysx]

hi lovely ! i have a request ! i'm a sucker for comforting others so could you do another fic like glossy eyes of a pretty boy but sfw and slightly different? i was thinking maybe james loses a quidditch match and maybe has a panic attack or is just really worked up so rem and siri have to come get us to go calm him down :((( he's my baby i love him so bad !!! and ofc if you don't want to you don't have to !!! ty my lovely ! <3

i hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting, angel <33333

james potter x fem!reader, sfw (they are just kissing through the end but nothing else)

you're trying to focus on what you're writing when sirius appears. his hair is messed up from running, you look at him through curious eyes. "what's wrong?" you ask.

"hey, gorgeous." he says first. he takes a seat next to you and tries to catch his breath. "sorry- i'll tell you in a second."

"do you want some water?" you ask, giggling. he shakes his head. "i'm fine, i'm fine."

"something happened?"

"what's that?" he asks you before answering your question. his finger points the books in front of you.

"i'm trying to finish the potions essay." you say. "it's not going really well."

"um- do you mind taking a break?" sirius asks, his breathing turns into normal each second. "prongs might need your company."

"what happened to him?" you worry. "is he okay?"

sirius tries to fix his hair with useless fingers. "yeah, but- he's a bit upset. the meeting we had for the next match didn't go well, the new ones in team kinda messed with his head, i guess."

"where is he?" you ask him as you start collecting your things. sirius takes your book bag to his shoulder as he leads the way to their room.

you knew james was nervous for the next match, it's against slytherin and most of the time a fight or an argument is inevitable. what's weird is that the argument happening inside the gryffindor team. james hates when something goes wrong in the game because of personal conflicts, he doesn't like mixing things together.

the walk is not long, sirius walks with you until the common room. you can spot remus sitting on the couch as you step in. his arms are crossed, his long legs placed on the small table in front.

"hi, remus." you say when he sees you.

"hi." he says with a remuslike smile. "thanks for coming so fast."

"is he okay?" you ask him. sirius puts your bag on the couch before settling down next to remus.

"he's okay, besides going insane over the match." remus answers. "i've never seen prongs panicking too much, i mean it's just a game right?"

"it's never just a game, beloved moony." sirius shakes his head. "the team is literally being sabotaged by itself, it's worse than losing against slytherin."

"i'm gonna check up on him." you tell them, accepting their brief nods as answer.

you knock on the door before entering. james doesn't reply. when you open the door and take a gentle step inside, he lifts his head. he doesn't say anything until you walk towards him.

"hi, jamie." you say, softly. "can i come in?"

it's normally a stupid question, you already came in. you just don't want to bother james if he wants to be alone. he nods. he's sitting on his messed up bed, his glasses thrown aside just like his tie. his shirt lost a few top buttons, and you can see the red in his pretty eyes when you're this close.

you stand in front of james, almost between his parted legs. he extends a shaky hand to pull you closer. the room reflects his mood, you think, you've never seen it so messy.

james looks at you briefly before putting his head on your belly. his weak arms are wrapped around your hips to keep you, your hands quickly go to his head to let him know it's okay. he can cry if he wants to, or scream, even though he seems like he's lacking the energy for it. he stays there until he breathes right. you rub the tense muscles of his shoulder with your one hand as your other hand strokes his hair.

"thank you for coming." he says with a rough voice. "i know you had work to do."

you cup his cheek to lift his head. your thumb rubs the angry tears on his face until it's dry. "my work isn't more important than you."

"thanks."

you give him a smile. it doesn't reach your eyes but james will understand. "do you wanna talk about it? the boys said a few things about the match but i don't really know what happened."

james shakes his head. "i can tell you later." he says. "i really don't wanna hear anything about the bloody match."

you give him a quick nod. he reaches for your hand.

"can you-" he sniffs. "can we lay down for a minute?"

"of course, baby." you say. "for as long as you want."

you help james put his head on your chest as you find a nice position to cuddle him. your arms around him feel safe, you can't see his face properly but you know he tries to calm down by taking in your familiar scent.

he's so precious, your boy. you like how passionate he is for the things he loves, he pushes himself hard until he is where he wants to be. you know it's stressful, being a solid part of a team and trying to make new people get along. james is the sunshine, he's easygoing and charming, but when he gets upset, it's hard to turn back to his normal self. he needs some time.

you play with his hair until he goes lax in your arms. his pent up energy slowly disappears. he drags his hand to your waist to rub the skin he can reach through your shirt.

you can almost count his eyelashes with this angle. he's gorgeous, even when he's mad. you think this is the real magic. he truly is a magical being, and it has nothing to do with the things he can do with his wand. you like how he's deep in his emotions, all of them, he lives bravely, never backs down from feeling anything. he'll be okay, he can stay here as long as he wants.

the kisses you press on his hair are soothing, you need to lift your head to reach him but it's fine. there are no words, just you and just him.

james sits on bed with slow motions when it becomes bearable. you watch him. "i'm okay." he says. "i'm sorry for worrying you."

"we were worried about you, but it's okay if you feel better." you say to him. he gets as comfortable as he can to settle down on top of your body to give you a good kiss, the kind of kiss that messes with his breathing and quickens his heartbeat. you cup his cheeks, thumbs drawing half moons on his skin. he's so soft now, no hurt feelings left. he closes his eyes to you, his lips conveying every thought he doesn't need to talk about anymore.

"everything will work out with the team." you say when he breaks the kiss. "you only need to be patient, my love. you'll do so well. you'll win the match."

james nods before putting his head on the crook of your neck. "remus is saying the same thing." he tells you. "i know we can beat them and- i only want everyone in team to feel that way."

"i think they already do." you believe what you say. "it must be stressful for everyone."

"yes. probably." james accepts. "we need more time."

"that's right." you agree. "can i bring you something to eat? i think we missed dinner."

"oh." he lifts his head. he was so deep in his sulking, he didn't realize how much time you spent next to him. "i'm sorry, angel. i totally forgot. i'll go get us something to eat."

"i'm not really hungry." you smile. "but food always makes you feel better, so..."

you're teasing and suddenly everything feels normal. james kisses your cheek and leaves his bed. "you always make me feel better." he says, such a romantic, he's down bad. "i'm so lucky to have you."

you blush under his gaze. your fingers try to fix the buttons of his shirt. "come on, potter, i decided i'm starving now. you also need to see sirius and remus, they were worried."

james holds your hand. "let's go then."

[bro-atz]

daddy dearest — chapter one

pair: idol!san/afab!reader word count: 4.3k chapter rating: r — nsfw genre: romance, drama, smut content: clubbing, drinking, nickname (sweetheart), hotel room sex, safe sex, oral sex, slight bulge kink?, completely consensual!

table of contents | next chapter

this chapter contains smut— minors do not interact

When your friend invited you to go clubbing, you didn’t think she was going to drag you to one of the most exclusive clubs in existence. You knew that she had connections, that she would be able to make sure the two of you got all the drinks you wanted for free, but you didn’t think for a second that the drinks, before they were free, would cost more than your rent.

“Wh— How— Are you insane?!” you whisper-hissed to your friend. “How the hell did you manage to pull this off?!”

“Will you relax? I’m friends with one of the bartenders, and he told me that he would be able to get us in,” you friend said as she covered your mouth. “That’s why the drinks are also free.”

“Here, though… The drinks will be free here?!”

“Yes, the drinks will be free here as long as we order from my friend. Now, come on! Stop worrying so much!”

Yet, you were going to worry, because a fancy club like this was certainly not a place that you were used to— or even comfortable— being in. Hell, the bodycon black dress was already too much for you to handle, so being in such an exclusive club just made your anxiety run even higher.

However, after a singular drink, that changed immediately. You and your friend were sitting in a little booth by yourselves, and while sipping on your second drink, you confided in your friend.

“I really want to hook up with someone tonight!” you tried to be quiet, but there was no way you were going to be able to with the sound of the loud bass pumping in the club and in your ears.

“You? You want to hook up with someone? You?”

“Yes, me. I want to hook up with someone— anyone! I’m tired of being in these dead end relationships, and I just want to feel something other than sadness tonight!”

Your friend laughed. She downed her drink then began scouting the area for you— you were never one to choose a good person (given how poorly your past relationships went), so you thought relying on your friend this time would be best.

“Okay, what about that guy over there?”

You looked in the direction your friend was pointing, and you immediately grimaced. He was very attractive, but…

“He’s too tall.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t be this picky,” she complained. “You’re the one who said you wanted to hook up with anyone tonight, so just ignore your stupid standards.”

“It was me ignoring my “stupid standards” that fucks me in the first place. If I’m going to hook up with someone tonight, I’m going to hook up with someone I won’t regret.”

“Fine, I’ll keep looking then,” your friend gave up and started to actually look for a guy you would be interested in. “What about that guy over there?”

You looked and saw a man with short, blond hair that cascaded over his eyes sitting at a booth with several other men. He had a gorgeous smile, and he was pretty close to what your type was. You nodded and said, “Okay, maybe—”

“Wait, wait, wait!” your friend stopped you. “What about the guy next to him?”

Next to him was a man with an extremely sharp jawline, wide shoulders, and dimples that made your heart flutter. Forget about a one night stand— this guy was the literal guy of your dreams. He only checked the boxes more when you saw him stand up; he was tall, but he wasn’t too tall, which only made you more interested in him. Plus, his white button up and black trousers that hugged his tiny waist just made you all the more interested in him.

“God…” you whispered.

“Oh, shit! He’s coming over here! Get up and flirt!”

You did not need to be told twice. You got up and tracked his movements. He was headed towards the bar. You waited until he caught the bartender’s attention and put in his order for drinks before sliding into the space next to him. He looked right at you, and he looked a little annoyed, so you decided to not flirt with him and just get a drink instead. You flagged down the bartender your friend knew.

“Hey, what can I get ya?” the bartender asked.

“A Grey Goose vodka soda and two shots of Jameson— don’t you dare give me that well bullshit!”

The bartender laughed and nodded before preparing your drinks, and the man next to you, who was definitely less annoyed now, started talking to you.

“You really don’t like well liquor, huh?” he asked

“I’m trying to have a good time, not die of alcohol poisoning,” you responded.

The man let out a little laugh, his dimples peaking through slightly. Moments later, the bartender returned with your drink and shots.

“Who’s the other shot for, if you don’t mind me asking,” the man said as he pointed at the shots.

“Oh, my friend over there,” you pointed around the corner at your booth.

You grabbed your vodka soda, but before you could grab the shots, the man picked them up for you.

“Let me help you with these,” he offered.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you waiting for your drinks?”

“I can come back for them.”

With that, he started walking over to your friend with your shots, leaving you to scurry after him. He dropped off the shots before waving to the two of you and returning back to the bar.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” your friend giggled. “Did you two hit it off?”

“Ugh, not really,” you groaned. “We talked about the drinks for, like, two seconds, he helped me with the shots, then brought them here.”

“You didn’t even get his name? Girl, what the hell?!”

“I know! I know… Maybe I shouldn’t even bother tonight…”

You sighed and picked up one of the shots before forcing your friend to pick up the other and clink glasses with you. A couple minutes after your shots disappeared, your friend’s bartender friend walked up to your booth with a tray of ten shots.

“Dude, what the hell is this?” your friend immediately asked.

“They’re lemon drops,” the bartender responded matter-of-factly.

“No, I mean why the hell are you bringing them here?”

“Someone got it for you guys. I don’t think all ten shots are for you, though.”

“Then why are there so many?”

“Sorry, I thought it would’ve been fun if we joined you,” the man from earlier popped his head out from around the corner.

You nearly choked on your spit when you saw his cheeky dimple peek out. Behind him were seven other men— the other men who were in the same booth as the man. The bartender left the tray of shots, and before you knew it, you were wedged between the man you were talking to and one of his friends.

“You got these for all of us to share?”

“Yeah! Grab one,” the man answered cheerily as he smiled.

The ten of you shared the shots, and you found yourself sucked into conversation with all of them. At first, you were a little worried for your friend because she didn’t do so well with a bunch of strange men, but she seemed to be just fine flirting with one of his friends— he had part of his hair tied up, but his bangs still covered his face slightly, making you nearly miss the little mole under his eye.

“By the way,” the man leaned into you, his lips close to your ear so he could make sure you heard him. “I never got your name.”

You offered him your name and your hand, the man taking it and shaking it lightly.

“Nice to meet you. I’m San.”

“San? That’s a unique name,” you couldn’t help but comment— there weren’t many Korean guys with one syllable names, after all.

“Yeah, my father wanted me to be a comforting hill for some and a mountain no one will dare challenge for others,” San explained the reasoning behind his name.

“It really suits you.”

“Really?”

San grinned at you, his dimples and cute eye smile making your heart skip a beat. You knew then and there that you had the capacity to love this man to death, but you had to stop your brain from spiraling— he was just going to be a hookup, and that’s it.

“It really does.”

You found yourself completely immersed in conversation with San as the night progressed. Neither of you really drank that much after that insanely sweet lemon drop, so you wondered how much he had to drink prior given that his hand was resting on your knee and slowly moving up your thigh.

“So, tell me something,” he leaned closer to you. “What’re you and your friend doing here on this lovely evening?”

“We’re just visiting her friend and grabbing a couple of drinks,” you answered.

“A friend?”

“Yeah, the bartender from earlier.”

“Oh,” San exhaled and smiled. “So he’s just a friend?”

“My friend’s friend, but not really mine… You seem relieved?”

“I thought he might be someone a little more. That makes me feel a lot less guilty for this,” San murmured in your ear as his hand slid a little further up.

Your entire body jolted when you felt his hand slip under the skirt of your dress, his thumb rubbing circles into your legs. You couldn’t help but exhale softly when you felt his fingers slip to the inside of your thighs. You tried closing your legs, but he had a strong grip on you, and while he pulled your legs open, he pulled you closer to him. To mask your surprise, you took a sip of your vodka soda and avoided eye contact with him, but that didn’t stop your entire body from craving him.

“Is this okay, by the way?” he asked softly.

“I’d prefer if we were somewhere private, but for now, I’m not opposed to it,” you murmured back as you turned your head towards him.

You saw a tiny smirk cross his face as he neared you. His nose brushed against your jawline, making a moan nearly slip from your lips. You couldn’t help but sigh sensually the closer he got to you, the more his hands roamed your body.

“Oh, so you would like to go somewhere more private?” he asked.

San squeezed your thigh, and you choked back another moan. He was really testing you at that point, and you desperately needed him. You held onto his forearm as his hand somehow managed to slide up even further, the lust practically sucking all of the patience and willpower from you.

“Yes, please.”

Somehow, the two of you managed to slip away from the booth and head towards the exit of the club. Once the exit was in sight, you felt San’s large, warm hand rest on the small of your back, making electricity run from head to toe. It certainly did not help when he leaned in close to you, giving you a good whiff of his intoxicating cologne. Your entire being craved to latch onto him and never let go.

“I have a question for you,” San said into your ear just loud enough so that you could hear him over the loud bass of the club music.

You looked at him and nodded as if to give him the go ahead for him to ask his question.

“Should I be worried about how much you’ve had to drink tonight?”

You shook your head and replied, “No, I promise. As long as I can still feel my fingers and toes, I know I’m alright.”

“You sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You see me walking in a straight line, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that’ll change later tonight. Believe me.”

With that, his hand slid down from your back to your ass, and you felt his fingers give your ass a nice squeeze before he moved his hand back up and around your waist. He guided you through the rest of the club and kept a tight hold on you as the two of you stood and waited for a taxi.

The entire taxi right consisted of the same things that San was doing in the booth. Touching you here, touching you there, making you feel all sorts of ways. He wasn’t intentionally teasing you, but he was intentionally riling you up and making you crave him more and more. His low voice whispering all the naughty things he wanted to do to you echoed in your ear as he spoke quietly. His hold on your thigh was strong enough for him to pull your entire body closer to him until your shoulder was pressing right into his chest, slightly surprising you at the strength he had. You wanted to see, and feel, more of that strength. You wanted him.

When you and San got to the hotel, though, you kept your distance for some reason. There was something telling you to just head to the elevator while San booked the room, and so you waited for the elevator. By the time it arrived, San got the room key and stood behind you. The two of you entered the elevator, and the second the doors closed, San pinned you against the wall.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting your collarbone. “How’d you know to keep your distance?”

“W-What do you mean?” you asked, your mind beginning to spiral as you felt his hands on your waist— and the fact that he called you a good girl did not help at all.

“It’s almost as if you’ve done this before…” he skipped over your question and continued while brushing his nose against your jawline. “That makes me wonder if you’re a good girl or a naughty girl.”

“What if I’m both?”

San inhaled sharply; he apparently loved that answer. He pressed you up against the wall completely, his chest rubbing against yours as you felt his waist begin to roll into your body. You felt his fingers run through your hair as he moved your face to lock your lips with his.

You melted the second you felt his warm, soft lips press against yours. He was an amazing kisser. The way he sucked lightly on your lower lip and tugged upwards, the way his tongue ran over your lower lip before making its way into your mouth— you couldn’t help but think that he was just an expert kisser. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself get sucked into his tenderness. Light moans echoed in the empty elevator the more he kissed you. The more intense they got, the weaker your legs became, and you desperately needed a bed at that point because you were in no shape to remain standing.

Luckily, the elevator finally dinged when you got to your floor. You and San hurried to the room, and the second he unlocked and opened the door, the two of you tumbled inside. Your shoes flew off as San pushed you towards the bed, his lips latched to yours once more. He immediately pinned you on the bed and broke away from you to push your insanely tight black dress upwards, revealing your sheer, black thong.

“Oh, wow…” you heard him whisper the second he unveiled your lingerie.

You watched him bite his lower lip before lowering his head between your legs. He left a sweet kiss on your clit over your panties, making you curl your toes and arch your back so that you were pushing your head into the mattress. You moaned softly when his tongue flicked against your clothed clit, your cunt getting wetter and more impatient by the second.

“You taste so sweet and lovely…” he murmured. “I wonder how you feel, though…”

San didn’t give you time to formulate a thought and respond. He pushed your thong to the side and began stroking your quivering pussy, a sharp gasp leaving your lungs. The gasp then turned into a moan when he sunk two of his thick fingers into you. There were only two, but you felt like he was already filling you up. You clutched the bedsheets and nearly tore through them with your nails the more he fingered you. He was moving his fingers slowly and deliberately, and every stroke was driving you more and more insane.

Your eyes were squeezed shut at that point, so you didn’t realize that San had one knee on the bed and lowered himself so that his face was right next to yours. You felt his fingers wrap around your neck, the pads of his fingers pressing lightly as he turned your head to face him. He kissed you hungrily as he moved his fingers in and out of your cunt a little faster.

It was when San curled his fingers inside you repetitively did your pleasure build at an exponential rate. Between his fingers filling you up and his fingers pressing the tiniest bit more into your neck, you were riding the most insane line of pleasure you ever had in your entire life. You moved your hands from the bed to his shoulders and gripped them tightly as you felt your abdomen tighten with every passing second. You were close, but you weren’t quite there yet.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” San’s choice of nickname made your mind completely combust. “You want to cum?”

“Ye— Oh! Oh God!”

San added a third finger to the mix, and that was exactly what you needed. Your legs trembled uncontrollably as you came hard all over the man’s fingers. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, and you watched a slight smile appear on his face when he moved away from you and released your neck.

“You feel good, sweetheart? It looked like you really enjoyed that,” San teased you, his voice hushed to a whisper.

You nodded weakly, your tight grip on his shoulders loosening as you sunk into the bed. Your eyes fluttered as you watched him move away from you. He cleaned his fingers with a tissue then took his wallet out of his back pocket to fish a condom out. You managed to sit up by the time he approached the bed again and stood directly in front of you.

“However,” he said as he returned to the bed. “We’re not done yet.”

San stood before you as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly with one hand. You felt your mouth water as each button revealed more of his fair skin, his defined muscles coming into view. When he pulled off his shirt, you could see his biceps bulge, and your heart skipped a beat. His face value was already at a ten, so seeing his bare torso did many, many things to you.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” San asked with a chuckle as he knelt on the bed, his waist right before you. “If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole through me.”

“You’re so sexy, San,” you murmured as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants. “So fucking sexy.”

You missed it while you focused on unbuckling his belt, but a light blush crossed his face when he heard you say that. He was thrown a little off his rhythm, only to shake it off quickly and regain his charisma.

“I could say the same thing to you,” he responded in the same decibel.

San cupped his hand under your chin and lifted your head so that you were looking at him. There was a dark, dangerous glint in his eyes that just made you even more excited and made you want him more than ever. He lowered his head and kissed you sloppily, his tongue pushing into your mouth. Your hands moved away from his now unbuckled belt and to his cheek and neck, your fingers pressing into his skin as you pulled him closer to you. He pinned you down on the bed and continued to kiss you until you were seeing stars. You didn’t think it would be possible for you to orgasm while only kissing someone, but with San, you were sure he could get you there.

You were so distracted by San’s lips and tongue that you didn’t realize he moved his hands away to open the condom packet and pull his cock out. He rolled the condom on before beginning to rub his cock against your clit, your cunt quivering as soon as you felt it. He didn’t even let you look yet— he was too busy kissing you as if his life depended on it.

When he moved his hand to the back of your head, he broke off your kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. He let out a shaky exhale as he pressed the tip of his cock against your cunt. “Relax for me, okay?” he whispered.

At first, you didn’t know why he was telling you to relax, but the second his cock started moving into you, you realized exactly why he said it.

San was massive. You’d never experienced anything like it. His cock was shoving into you and spreading you so wide you were afraid you were going to tear into two pieces. You did your best to relax and make sure his cock didn’t absolutely murder you, and you were only able to breathe peacefully when he bottomed out.

“Good job, sweetheart,” San said softly as he brushed your hair out of your face. “I’m going to start moving now, okay?”

You nodded, and San immediately started rolling his hips into yours. He started moving slowly at first, making you feel every single damn thing. You couldn’t help but clench your cunt— he was just so insanely big that you were tense as fuck. San winced when he felt you tighten, and he let out a low chuckle.

“You nearly snapped my cock off, sweetheart,” he teased you while brushing his nose against your jawline. “Just relax for me.”

San planted his lips on your neck and started leaving light marks as he thrust into you steadily. He was still being a little gentle with you with the way his hands were holding onto your waist with just enough firmness that he had a good hold on you but wasn’t hurting you. You liked that he was being considerate of you, but truth be told, you actually wanted him to annihilate you. You were so frustrated that he was teasing you the whole time that what you really wanted was for him to fuck you senseless.

“San,” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “M-More…”

He moved his head from your neck up so that he could look at your face, and a smirk graced his lips. It was as if he was waiting for you to beg him for more.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll give you more.”

San sat up and pushed his hands under your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your breasts. He still hovered closely above you as his angle changed slightly, his cock rubbing slightly upwards. You moaned loudly and pushed your head back into the bed when you felt his hips quickly snap into yours, his cock bulging out slightly. Your moans turned into loud cries of pleasure as San’s pace sped up very quickly. His cock was hammering into you, and you were definitely losing your mind.

You and San were covered in a light sheen as the room got hotter. His sweat started rolling down his arms, and his hair got a little matted to his forehead. He moved so that he was sitting upright and brushed his hair out of his face, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him effortlessly be so damn sexy. Your split moment of appreciation of his beauty quickly ended when San gripped your waist tightly before ramming his cock into you repeatedly. You reached for his wrists and held onto him, your nails digging into his skin and leaving painful crescents as he refused to let up. He was grunting and groaning as he fucked you, his volume getting louder as his pleasure increased.

The pleasure that was building in your stomach suddenly snapped when San lifted your hips, his cock drilling into you at a new angle. White washed over your vision as you came, your cunt creaming around San’s throbbing cock. You, at first, choked back your cry, but when you felt San get even faster, you screamed with pleasure, your entire body succumbing to him.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” San hissed.

You were too fucked out to even think straight. Your body acted on behalf of you. You reached out for him and pulled him down so that he was flush against your body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders once more and your legs around his waist as you brought his lips to yours and kissed him passionately. The man let several groans slip out in between kisses as waves of pleasure shot through him. His waist slammed into yours, and his cock twitched and trembled as his cum spurt into the condom, completely filling it up. He came, but he was still restlessly moving his waist against yours.

“Sweetheart… You… Fuck,” he whispered. “That wasn’t enough for me… I need more of you.”

“Well,” you chuckled breathlessly. “I’m not going anywhere tonight, San.”

“You’re going to regret that.”

San moved away from you and locked eyes with you. His mouth said one thing, but his eyes were challenging you; and you weren’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Try me.”

table of contents | next chapter

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