#Continuing the tradition of talking out of my ass

[shrikeseams]

Thinking about some of the meta I've seen about the flight of the Noldor (and I'm not vagueing anyone, I've seen this kinda thing a few times and from folks I don't follow, so they've already trickled out of my head, sorry, bit it's not personal)--ANYWAY. The thing is that there's an underlying assumption that the noldor should have trusted the valar, because the Valar told them that the Oath couldn't be fulfilled and that they couldn't win against Morgoth, and that was ultimately proven correct.

But like. The thing is. The Valar had just proven to be incredibly fallible.

The wonderful Light that drew the elves on to Valinor? That they built their lives around? That's gone. And it's gone because the valar just very publicly screwed up. It's gone because the Valar released Melkor, and fucking told the elves that he was trustworthy, and they were extremely wrong. The Trees are dead because they couldn't bring Melkor back into custody in a timely manner. None of this inspires confidence in their ability to deal with Melkor in the future.

Finwe is dead because the Valar were wrong.

Valinor has been proven to be unsafe because the valar were wrong.

(Arguably the kinslaying at Alqualonde is further proof that the Valar can't keep Aman safe against elves, let alone one of their own number.)

Feanor called it on Melkor. Feanor was proven right to build fortifications, even in Aman. Feanor was proven right to make back-ups of the Light, even if it was stolen. (Just because he wasn't going to hand them over for Yavanna to crack like eggs doesn't mean they wouldn't have been put to good use.) Feanor has been trying to leave Aman for a long time, and right at that crisis point he looks like a great bet. It would have looked like he'd seen it all coming, and that the Valar had invited disaster into their own home.

Hindsight is 20/20, and during the Darkening Feanor looks like a damn oracle. Why would they believe the Valar at that moment? The Valar have just lost an INCREDIBLE amount of face and authority. Trust is very easy to break and very difficult to rebuild.

[pseudowho]

18+, MDNI, Shinazugawa Sanemi is a filthy monster

Full of hot air. Annoying piece of shit, waste of time--

You and Sanemi approached the safehouse, scraped and bloody and pissed off. You felt every scrap of annoyance as an electric frisson over your skin, made irritatingly worse every time he brushed against you.

You stuck a palm out, trying to shove him further away from you, and only succeeded in shoving yourself further from him, so bizarrely immovable was he. His face, already stormy, snarled.

"What's your fucking problem?"

"Stay out of my space Shinazugawa--"

"--you're the one fucking staggering--"

"--yeah, well, it's hard carrying the whole team--"

Sanemi laughed, mirthless. Now bracketed by arching wisteria, in a tunnel to the door, he hammered his fist on dark wood, turning his back to you.

"Yeah, alright kid, the circus called--"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Shinazugawa--"

"--yeah, yeah, they want their clown back--"

The pair of you were too busy bickering, sniping and biting, to thank the elderly woman who let you in. She rubbed a single wizened hand down her face.

As you stormed away to the baths, the old woman caught Sanemi, saying something to him that made him spit feathers, apoplectic and vengeful. You didn't care to listen, and instead shut the sliding door, sunk yourself into the awaiting hot bath, and stuck your head briefly underwater to scream.

Somewhat calmed, but still brittle and fractious, you encased your body in a fine white robe, leaving your clothes aside to be de-bloodied by the house staff. Stepping out, you were greeted by the old woman who had welcomed you inside.

"Come along, dear. It's a good thing you two are married, I only had one room--"

You frowned, uncertain, and about to open your mouth to argue back before being unceremoniously shoved into a room, the woman a little too eager to escape from you before you could throw vitriol at her.

You turned on the spot, flustered, in a handsome traditional room. A large, squashy bedroll lay upon the floor...and Sanemi sat upon it, looking pugnacious and nonchalant.

"...get out of my fucking room, Shina--"

"Shut the fuck up. It's our room for the night."

You faltered, short-circuiting and drawing your robe closer to yourself, feeling so naked. Sanemi continued, stripping his uniform top off, throwing it aside. You felt yourself flush hot from head to toes, despite yourself, at his chest and back, all hewn stone and sculpture. He still didn't look at you as he continued.

"They only had one room. They were about to turn us away, so I convinced them we're married. You're welcome."

You fizzlecracked with rage, burning with mortification.

"You? Married to you?"

Sanemi bristled, offended. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean--"

"Oooo I'm your little wifey now am I? Lucky little Sanemi, so fortunate to have such a lovely wife protecting him in battle--"

"--you are such a pain in the ass--"

"--I'll be your dutiful wife, shall I? Here, let me take your clothes, dear one, I shall wash them--"

Sanemi stood slowly now, his shoulders hunched beneath something dark, approaching you like a tiger on the hunt. You continued your relentless mockery, furious at having to share a room with him, as if you could hide how badly you dreamed of him at night, when you weren't tearing each other to shreds--

"--cook meals for you, rub your shoulders and listen to all your woes. Such a perfect little wife--"

You felt yourself shoved back to the wall, squeaking as Sanemi's sweat and blood filled your nose. One strong hand clamped over your mouth, a forearm planted above your head. He panted, seething under your constant barrage of abuse.

His voice was so low, you could barely hear but for the tickle of his breath on your neck, and you shivered to feel him lock you in place, planting a knee between your legs.

"Yeah. That's it. You'll be my little wife. And I'll be your doting husband...if you don't want to sleep in the fucking forest for the night."

You trembled, raising your hands to press weakly at his chest, certain you couldn't hide it now, the longing behind the mockery--

Sanemi didn't move, a shudder running through him as your palms grazed against his nipples. His voice continued, gravelly under the strain of your plush body, caged against his.

"I'll listen to you tell me about your day...and I'll be interested, too. I'll actually listen."

You felt a blush smatter across your breasts, barely contained by your robe and not unnoticed by Sanemi as he continued.

"I'll tell you I missed you...and you'll take the piss out of me like always, but it's just because you missed me too and can't find the words to say it."

Your breaths came hot and fast, tear-filled eyes glimmering up at him as he deconstructed you, foreplay through playing house.

"And I'll pull you close...much closer than this...more like this--" Sanemi pressed his whole body flush to yours, and you groaned. Sanemi caught it in his palm, feeling his cock harden against his thigh at you, trapped like a little rabbit beneath him.

"And I'll kiss you...until you're squirming, and begging me for more. And I'm a devoted husband, so I'll undo your robe...and slip my hands inside to squeeze you so hard, you bruise, until you're all wet and peachy for me..."

Your head swam, feeling yourself wetten as if by some Pavlovian magic. You clamped your thighs around Sanemi's knee, his eyes dark to feel the heat of your empty core against him.

"...and I'll get you ready with my fingers...'cos I'm big, y'know? And you're great at taking me...but I like to feel your cunt shaking around my hand, while I fuck you with it."

Your fingernails pressed crescents into his pecs, now, supple and pliable against the wall as he fucked the fight out of you with his words, all this time just tearing each other to shreds just to avoid telling him and now what for if it never worked all along were you always so fucking obvious--

"And then...I'll use some of that soaking little pussy cream to cover my cock, jack it off it a few times to get it ready for you, but I'll lick the rest off 'cos I know you like that--"

You moaned into Sanemi's palm, squirming hard enough to free one breast, and Sanemi cursed under his breath, his voice rough and wavering as he drank down your trembling curves.

"...and 'cos I'm your husband...I'll fuck into you all at once. And I'll fuck you, and fuck you, until you're yelling out my name, but it won't be Shinazugawa anymore 'cos that's your name, too, wife, it'll be Sanemi instead...or something like that, anyway, 'cos I'll be honest, you'll be too fucked out to talk properly when my cock's splitting you in half. Finally. A way to shut that fucking potty mouth of yours."

Your hands trailed up his chest, beginning to wrap around his neck, involuntarily rubbing your clit over his knee with a shaking moan, throbbing with the promise--

Sanemi released you, stepping away abruptly, leaving you cold and gasping and wet against the wall.

"As your husband, anyway. Not that I am. So shut the fuck up...and go to bed."

You sunk to the floor, stunned and speechless, unable to form a single comeback. You gasped up at Sanemi, his back to you as he undid his hakama. His head, all ruffled white spikes, came up once more with an ah! of realisation, and he shot his final, critical hit.

"...and I'd cum inside you. Obviously. Doting husbands like you all round and pretty and full of their seed, right?"

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥! ♡︎

characters: sub!big men x nb!dom!reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, breeding, creampie, slapping, hair pulling, size difference, rough sex, strap/cock traditions, feminization like a lot, mentions of lactating, just dumb big sub men getting fucked stupid<3

notes: thinking with my clit rn… divider by @/reveriesources

big men! who can’t help but feel something swirling in their stomach every time they see little children going around, clinging to their parents, excitedly chattering on and showing their proud work

big men! who can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have your own children. you two have been together for long enough now, he guesses it should be time to bring up the topic of children and raising a family together

big men! who absolutely adore children despite their large physique and threatening appearance. and children love them in return and so are you with children as well. he sees it as an absolute win-win. you both love children and they love you two back. it would only be normal to want a cute family together, right?

big men! who nervously bring up the topic of children one day after a nice homemade dinner. he speaks in stutters and stammers — uncharacteristic as he fiddles with his hands, looking down at his lap. what if you weren’t ready? what if you turn down the idea? what if you don’t even want children to begin with?

big men! who let out a sigh of relief when you reach out, your smaller hands covering their own as you sooth his worries. who smiles in sheer utter joy when you say you want children as well

big men! who later into the night get absolutely wrecked. legs shaking, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming. mind delirious, barely hanging on a thread as his glossy eyes look at nowhere in the room. who can’t help but let out a shriek when you enter him again. big and thick cock hitting his sensitive spots, making him squeal and thrash around on the bed until you pin him down with your weight

big men! who cry and blabber about being too goddamn full. who talk about your cock fucking his insides, rearranging his organs. who deliriously smiles and lets a drunken giggle slip when he feels the small bump in his stomach from the sheer size of your strap and cum mixed together

big men! who drool on the sheets when he can feel you slap his ass. the sting feeling so damn delicious, he couldn’t help but ask for more. to slap his ass and squeeze and fondle his tits until they’re all sore, red and lactating

big men! who lets out a weak pathetic excuse of a whine when you cum deep inside him for the nth time that night, legs spasming from the feeling of your hot seeds painting his walls

big men! who get fucked until their mind breaks, blabbering and slurring about how you were fucking his womb now. how he can feel your tip bruising his cervix and that you’re gonna knock him up

big men! who eagerly push you down, straddling your lap when you mischievously ask him to ride your cock since you’re so damn tired

big men! who rides your strap happily, his own cock repeatedly hitting his stomach as he sinks down on your strap again. the sheer amount of cum dribbling down your shaft, his thighs and making a mess

big men! who place a hand over the small bulge on their stomach. lust hazed smile on their face as they slur out words of getting pregnant. who blabber on and on so cutely about finally starting a family with you. who giggles when he feels you cum inside him again, saying he wants to make sure that his womb gets filled to the brim, wanting to carry your children even though he doesn’t even have a womb

big men! who whine when you try to tap out, too exhausted to continue. but he wants to! he wants to make sure you fuck your cock deep inside him, pushing past his cervix walls and cum inside him over and over till he gets pregnant!

big men! who fucking squirts. weak and limp cock spurting out pathetic excuse of droplets of cum before shooting blanks, pushing his red ass flush against your hips to make sure you don’t pull out. who lets out the loudest fucking scream when your hand gently yanks his hair, pushing his face into the pillow to muffle his noise as you continue to ram your cock inside him

big men! whose moans and whimpers turn so high-pitched, so weak, so girly as his whole body spasms and shakes under you like a weak fawn. who keep daydreaming of a cute domestic life with you and your kids together in his cotton filled brain

big men! who are just fucked dumb. not a single thought or an imagination in their mind as they simply lay there. take, take, take and take until you two finally tap out. you, too exhausted. him, exhausted, with a sore throat, with old and new tear stains on his cheeks, drool slipping down his lips with a shaking body. who passes out after you cum inside him for the nth time

big men! who dream of starting a family with you. the two of you with a cute child or a few more since he was such a big family man. the kids running around, the two of you watching them with a smile as the two of you make dinner together

big men! who wakes up all sore and exhausted the next morning. they’re absolutely drained and even trying to speak hurt

big men! who can finally move around after a while. who place a hand over his stomach before realizing the bulge is gone since you have already did an aftercare together after he passed out. who feel a growing sense of great sadness as their eyes brim with tears and their lips quiver

big men! who shake you awake with a sense of urgency, asking you to hurry and wake up. when you finally do, you’re greeted with the sight if your lover with tears in his eyes

big men! who complain, hiss and even cry as he stammers about not being pregnant. who take your hand in his own, squeezing your hand slightly with a pout on their face, “you should have knocked me up! i wanted a baby with you! did you.. not want a baby?”

big men! who cry crocodile tears when they realize that they can’t get pregnant after you explain it to them. mind still too fucked dumb, brain filled with nothing but statics and cotton. who literally sobs in desperation when he realizes he can’t get knocked up by you

big men! who sniffle as you turn their face to look at you. who finally starts to calm down when you assure him with a smug smile that you will continue to fuck your cum inside him over and over until he finally gets pregnant. isn’t his partner just lovely?

➯ jing yuan, blade, gepard, dan feng, sampo, welt yang, argenti, wriothesley, neuvilette, diluc, itto, childe, capitano, kaveh, thoma, baizhu, zhongli, dainsleif, rock, hajime sugoroku, kenshirou yozakura, musashi, samon gokuu, liang, qi, yamato godai, mitsuru hitokoe, sinbad, masrur, spartos leoxses, kouen ren, koumei ren, muu alexius, cassim, armakan amun-ra, yunan, judar, murial, julian, diavolo, beel, mammon, satan, simeon, solomon, raphael your faves♡︎

[chosocutegf]

husband!Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

cw: smut

husband!Miguel who rents a whole private beach and a beachfront villa just for you two to finally have your well deserved vacation. He makes sure you have all the comforts you might need, and that the whole thing matches your tastes.

husband!Miguel who doesn’t even give you the time to put down your luggages that he immediately picks you up and takes you to first flat surface so he can make love to you. He is so pent up from work that he can’t help the desire surging through his veins, especially when he sees you in that little sundress.

husband!Miguel who goes around wearing short sleeved shirts and shorts. Most of the times he doesn’t even button up his shirts, letting you see his toned abs under it, and the happy trail that disappears in his pants. He enjoys catching you staring at him and making you blush.

husband!Miguel who made sure to buy you all sort of bikinis before leaving so that he could admire you with them on. However, he wasn’t really expecting his cock to be hard all the time at the sight of the little straps clinging to your body, the material barely covering your nipples and cunt, leaving the rest of your skin exposed to his hungry eyes.

husband!Miguel who sulks and follows you around like a puppy when you forbid him to touch you, because for the first days you didn’t even had the time to step on the beach that he was already pouncing on you.

“Por favor, mi amor,” (please, my love) he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind and brushing his nose against your neck before leaving a kiss there. You ignore him as you continue to apply sunscreen on your arms, “Lo siento, cariño, but you look so good in your bikinis… you can’t blame a husband who is madly in love with his wife, can you?” (i’m sorry, sweetheart..)

husband!Miguel who is quick to scoop you up in his arms the moment you give up, slap your ass and fuck you nice and slow. He just loves you so much and you make him feel like a horny teenager every time he sees you walking around in those flimsy clothes.

husband!Miguel who takes you snorkeling because he wants to see the beauty of the ocean with you. And he makes it difficult for you when he comes out wearing one of those tight black dry suits, accentuating every muscle of his body and making his broad shoulders and tiny waist stand out more. You gasp when he turns around and you see how good his butt looks in it.

husband!Miguel who holds your hand, everywhere and anywhere. He wants to feel you close, especially when you two go around to explore the local markets, or attend traditional dance performances. If he doesn’t have a hand holding yours, he has an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, but rest assured that he is always touching you.

husband!Miguel who wants to take walks on the shore with you, holding you close. He likes them even more when the sun is down, the stars and moon are shining over your heads, and you two talk softly to each other. Those are the moments when Miguel is most vulnerable with you. He loves to see how the moonlight shines over your features, making you look like a goddess and he can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky to have found you.

husband!Miguel that one day decides to rent a boat to take you around. The sun shone on his tanned skin, making him look like a greek god. He was wearing his sunglasses, his wet hair were slicked back as he stood there, driving and looking sexy. You couldn’t help but snap a few pictures of him looking like that.

husband!Miguel who on the other hand, had difficulty looking away from you lying on the bow of the boat. Your wet skin glistening under the sun, and your little bikini doing nothing to cover your plump curves. He could see your perked nipples poking under the thin material, and it was making his cock throb in his swimsuit.

“Okay, now jump,” Miguel tells you, looking at you with a little grin while you stand at the edge of the boat, looking down at the clear waters. You glance back at him with a pout before resting your hands on your hips, “no, you go first,” you mumble.

Miguel’s rich and low laugh rings in your ears before you feel the boat slightly swaying to one side and the other as he approaches you. He brought the two of you in the middle of ocean, away from the shore, and as you looked down at the deep waters, you couldn’t help being a little nervous. “Vale, mamí,” (all right) he says, kissing your forehead and swatting your ass before jumping with his arms straight over his head.

You cringe as the boat sways and you observe Miguel resurfacing above the waters. He shakes the water from his hair, before looking up at you with a grin, “c’mon, cariño, you can do it”. Soon after, you find yourself gripping him tightly in the waters, looking at him and chuckling as he stays afloat and holds you above him.

husband!Miguel who buys you as many piña colada as you want when you go to a local bar. He makes sure to hold you close to him while you dance around him, drink in hand, and smiling widely. He is fascinated by you until you decide to grind your ass against his middle, your short dress really making it hard for him to resist you. When he can’t hold back anymore, he takes you back to the villa and makes sure to fuck the brattiness out of you.

husband!Miguel who wakes up one day and you aren’t in bed. He can’t help the panic that surges in him, and he is quick to stand up to search around the house while calling out your name. However, his nerves immediately relax when he looks out the wide window facing the beach and he sees you sunbathing at the shore.

He makes his way out of the villa, his eyes widening when he sees you sunbathing. Naked. The waves gently hit your body, making you look like an ocean nymph. He groans and reaches down to adjust his cock in his boxers, feeling himself already getting hard. “Mamí,” he calls you, stopping when he is close enough to let his eyes roam down your body, “¿Que haces?” (what are you doing?). You pry your eyes open under your sunglasses, smiling when you see your husband towering over you, “sunbathing,” you tell him.

He kneels down next to you, his finger tracing down your stomach and making you shiver while his gaze is fixed on your perky nipples, “you had me worried when I didn’t see you in bed…,” he murmurs, and you notice how his voice deepens and his eyes look down your body, “sorry, Mig, didn’t want to”.

He clicks his tongue and doesn’t say anything as he pries your legs open, swearing under his breath when he sees your glistening cunt, and positions himself between your legs. He is quick to dive in your pretty pussy, not caring about the waves hitting his back. He stays there until he is sure you’re properly satisfied.

husband!Miguel who starts to hide your bikinis from that moment on. If you have to swim, you’ll do it naked, so that he can catch a glimpse of your little cunt when you dive in the ocean. He will start to swim naked too after you complain that you don’t want to be the only one naked.

husband!Miguel who loves to make you angry when you are laying down on a towel, and he crawls on top of you, water dripping down his body and hair, wetting you. You scream at him and try to push him away but he is stronger and starts to pepper kisses all over your face, pressing his body down against yours. Then he makes love to you because he can’t hold back when his wife is laying under him so prettily.

I love Miguel so much, IT HURTS

probably gonna write more about this, let me know your thoughts (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

(m.list)

[hrdenha]

— good guys could never | p.sh

synopsis: It's friday night, the night where people get loose after a hell ass week. As usual, there's a party at your brothers house, the same time you and park sunghoon, one of your brother's friend, have your own little party inside your room or... inside you.

pairings: older brother's friend!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT having sex while there's a party, fucking your brother's friend, bed slamming through the wall, mouth covering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), exhibition, one leg up, two leg up, dirty talk, calling names, sex against the wall (🤭), asshole sunghoon, y/n getting stars and tears in her eyes, y/n getting dumb from cock (sunghoon's cock) so she requested something 😬, this story becomes kind of dark at the last part, ngl. let me know what you think.

It's friday night, people wants to relax and have fun — getting the toxicity of the past week out your system. That's just what the fun people do. But, for you... you prefer a different type of detox just like a tradition for other passing friday nights.

You can clearly hear the loud music and laugh from the people downstairs even though it was muffled from how your room is located at the third floor which is off limits for the outsiders. In addition to that, the only sounds you can hear are the hard pouncing of your bed on the walls and the vibration of groans coming from the man behind who's currently rutting his hardened cock inside you, bareback.

"Fuck... Sunghoon..." You whimpered, eyes glistens trying to look at him over your left shoulder, who just moaned in return. He's hitting it deep, continuously hitting that spot deliciously that made you a moaning mess. He grabs your neck, squeezing it hard enough to put the right pressure before biting your shoulder softly that added to your pleasure causing you to squeeze him tight.

"Roll on your back..." He quietly said that you immediately did without complaining. His cock still inside when you did so.

"Th-there" You whimper when sunghoon thrust again. "You're s-so thick..."

Sunghoon groans, before you feel him whispering in your ears, pace still unweaving. "You're squeezing me... tight" You were about to moan when he put his hands over your mouth, still thrusting inside. "How does it feel to be a dumb slut from a cock? from my cock, huh?"

You whimpered, not even thinking about answering that question. The only thing in your mind right now is how fucking good you feel. How sunghoon's cock got the thickness and length you need to hit all the spots.

"You like this..." He whispered. You felt his hot breath as he chuckled on your ears, still rutting his cock deep inside. "From the moment you caught me having sex with some girls on the guest room, you imagined me fucking you so good with my cock."

"Wishing it was you who will feel my length in here, stuffing your pussy just the way you like..." You felt his hands trace your lower abdomen, pushing it down slightly earning him a scream of pleasure from you.

Sunghoon's pace picked up, "You're such a slut." Your legs automatically opened up more, accommodating his trust even deeper inside you. If you were wet earlier, now, you're practically a waterfalls.

"Poor chan... didn't know his sweet baby sister is just a slut in a good girls clothing." He cooed locking his eyes on your glistening ones. "The one who'll let her brother's friend to have his way on her. One that will do everything just for me to touch her"

And as soon as that words leave out of his mouth, so is the feeling of his cock inside you. "Come here" He demanded standing not far from your bed.

You immediately stand up, walking in front of him as sunghoon welcomed you with a dirty kiss on the lips. You instantly melt from the way his tongue gently explore your cavern. Sunghoon felt that, smirking in between the kiss before pushing you onto the wall, trapping you in between with his body.

"I've never been the good guy, y/n. You should know that" You felt him raising your leg onto his shoulder causing you to hook your arms on his neck, practically doing vertical split as slam his hardened dick inside. "Besides, good guys could never fuck you this good"

"Fuck, so hot" He groaned pulling you into a messy kiss as his thrust got faster, his right hand busy with the cheeks of your ass while the other one playing with your nipples. You moaned into the kiss when sunghoon flicks it. Fuck, feels so good.

"So, perfect huh? Can't believe your pussy still squeezing me tight after having me inside for a long time."

"Su-sunghoon"

"Yes, call my name slut."

He chuckled hooking his arms on your other leg that still supporting you before raising it together with the other one. "Oh, fuck" You cursed, when you felt his tip sliding deeper inside.

"Oh, fu-fuck hoon" Both of your feet on his shoulder, trusting into you his pace unrelenting. The wall behind gives much support that he needed, sunghoon trapped you to where he wanted you to be. Where you belonged.

"Shit, tight as fuck. You're too tight for your own good, y/n."

"I'm close..." You moaned loudly not caring if someone will hear. You don't care at all. The sound of slapping of wet skins filled your room, so is the filthy wet sounds and curses coming from you and sunghoon.

"Don't come untill I told you to." He doesn't need to say it. There's a threat in his tone and you knew better than to try your luck. "Gotta take what I give, darling" Your eyes dart on his which is now doing the same too. His thrusts are still unwavering... deep, hard, and it was making your head spin. But, there's something on his eyes that makes you feel more than what you possibly should have.

It didn't took long when you felt his dick twitch inside. "Come for me" And you gladly do so as his thrust gets erratic, groaning onto your neck as you shivers feeling your walls be painted with thick white lines. Your hands on his neck slowly losing their support from the intensity. But then sunghoon keeps you on your position, but now with your legs safely secured around his waist, his dick still not leaving inside you.

You let him though. It was a good feeling, having him still stuffed inside you. It made you shiver when he walked towards you bed with you still on his waist. His dick thrusting softly inside you as he walk.

Sunghoon laid you to your bed, and was about to pull out when you stopped him silently.

He smirked, "what does my dumb slut want?"

"Fuck me again, please. Fuck me when I do my homeworks, fuck me when I'm in the showers, fuck me on my sleep, overstimulate me... i don't care. Just fuck me again, sunghoon"

Sunghoon's eyes darkened, his black hair falling perfectly on his eyes adding to the shadow that didn't failed to make you shiver not on fear but from being turned on. You can tell he was turned on by your thoughts. He just have to pull your strings. "I don't like the tone of your voice, darling"

"I'm sorry bu—"

"But, who am i to decline that right?"

You exhaled locking your teary eyes on him as his cock slowly thrusting again, stimulating your sensitive whole. Both of you cursed under your breath, "fuck me dumb that the only thing i can think of is your cock, sunghoon."

"But, what if your brother catch us? Don't you care about your brother anymore?"

"I don't care... I don't. The only thing I want is you, please" You whispered trying to keep your eyes open to look straight at sunghoon but the pleasure you're feeling is making it hard to do so.

You need him to swallow you. To possess you. To own you, you don't even care anymore.

"Hmm, let me think about that..." He replied looking down at your fucked up face like a predator having fun with his own prey.

He had you where he needs you. He successfully turn you into what he wants. It's not an accident when you saw him having sex with other girls. That's only one of the many traps sunghoon planted to make you come around. And, you did come around. Oh, you come around so good you didn't even have the idea. Besides, he's never been the good guy.

© hrdenha | 2024

[thetransfemininereview]

Do you have any recommendations for gaining access to these books? I have a pretty long list of ones I want to read but can't afford most of them. The library has the big ones (Whipping Girl, Detransition Baby, Nevada) but the newer or less well known ones have been difficult to find

No this is actually so real though. Let's talk about it.

One of the big problems that I'm trying to address here is the fact that there is a lack of ability for trans books to reach their perhaps core audience, trans people. Over the last few years trans librarians have been trying to increase the number of trans books in circulation, but that's super contingent on where you live. Not to mention the fact that, at least in the US, states are actively trying to criminalize circulating trans books in libraries.

I know Tumblr is allergic to economics a lot of the time, but you've gotta look at the math to understand why this is the current state of things. Essentially it's a vicious cycle. Lots of trans people can't afford to buy a $25 hardcover on a whim, and traditional publishers put a lot of stock into how well a book performs on release, cause that's how they make money. So when the core audience can't afford it and isn't marketable, they register that as a lower demand, which means that fewer trans books get published, fewer end up in libraries, and the cost of an individual book is driven higher. Low demand, high price. Then because the price is high, trans people cant afford the books, and the cycle continues.

It is the dilemma of the transfemme author that most of their core audience is also gonna be transfemme. It's a self-selecting process that's very hard to break out of. And at the end of the day, there just isn't very much money to go around in the trans community because trans people so frequently get cut off from generational wealth. So when you get an ecosystem of transfemmes selling books to other transfemmes who also sell books to them....

I took a class on the Sociology of Art a few years ago, and one of my core takeaways was that the boundaries of a field (yes my teacher liked Bourdieu, come for her ass, not mine) are fundamentally governed by institutions and entities with the money and power to dictate their rules of play. In Althusser's language, you would call those ISAs (Ideological State Apparatuses). When you read Weber, he talks about how culture needs to have some level of social legitimation in order to become a force of power in the world (I butchered that but it's the gist lol). And it's like.

The people who have the money to read the books dictate which books receive the money. Organizations like Lambda Literary, presses, big name publishers, etc. One of the big problems in the field of trans literature up to this point is that the only people who've had the money to produce social legitimation from the organizing schema/matrix of an ISA have also only chosen to read a very small slice of the extant literature. Then, because those non-profits and presses and companies only champion a small selection of books, that in turn dictates for those who have less money which of those books deserve social attention, critical acclaim, sales, library slots, etc.

And like, all of that is an illusion, but it produces a material reality for the transfemme author. It dictates the material conditions for the reproduction of said literature and who can participate in it.

So, what's to be done about it?

"Buzz" is a big deal in the publishing industry. A good review, an award, a thinkpiece - all of that can be the difference between a successful book and a flop. Publishers look for that. If nobody talks about a book and it doesn't sell well, they'll drop the author faster than you can say Susan. Again, vicious cycle. But like, at the end of the day, a "field," an "ISA," a "legitimated" work of art, that's all just a class prerogative. The different between a Very Important Literary Blog and a "person talking about books on the internet" is money. Like. It's just money. The reality of it is really banal.

It's who has the money to read books. It's who has the money and time to write about books. It's who has the money to gain institutional access to book. It's who has the money to read enough to say, "Oh, well that might seem true, but if you look at X, Y, and Z it's clearly not." It takes money to fact check. It takes money to challenge institutional myths. It takes money because when an institution makes a claim about a book and none of the people who care enough to argue with them have the cash to challenge it, the claim tends to stand.

And like, the honest truth is that between the books, the website, and the education, I've spent a lot of money bringing this website online in the form you're reading it in. A lot of the books I've read were really fucking expensive. I grew up in a wealthy family, my parents were accepting. They have both the means and the desire to support my passion projects. I'm lucky.

The goal of The Transfeminine Review is to create at least one independently trans-run website that can challenge that brand of institutional legitimation work from non-profits and big publishers and cis outlets, a website that can actually highlight transfeminine literature as it exists in the world, not as the Big 5 publishers have dictated it. Topside, Metonymy, Arsenal Pulp, LittlePuss, etc. They've all taken on that challenge from the angle of producing books, but there hasn't been a corollary trans secondary ecosystem dedicated to documenting and critiquing them. Or there is, but it's extremely diffuse and hard to find if you don't know exactly what you're looking for. Then there are the general queer outlets, like them. and whatnot, and they do their best but literature is a side hustle at best. There's the queer-helmed literary outlets like Electric Lit (shout out Denne Michele Norris) but they spend most of their time talking about cis authors. None of it is designed to help or review self-published literature from poor authors, and let's be frank, most transfeminine publishing is still done indie or self.

It's an investment, essentially. On the longshot, the hope is that this website will inspire others to do similar work, and that eventually through the collective efforts of trans authors and their readership, we can begin to change the math on trans publishing and help to spread it to a wider audience.

Now.

None of this changes the current reality that trans lit is expensive.

Unless you're lucky, you're probably not gonna find much trans lit at the local library even if you dig for it. Another good place to find free trans books is transreads.org, but their selection is mostly non-fiction, and the fiction is, again, largely the same few books you can find elsewhere. Another good online queer library is https://www.queerliberationlibrary.org/, which might be a good place to look (shoutout to Skye for bringing it to my attention!)

There are a couple of cheaper places to find trans books. If you shop around on itch.io, a lot of self-published trans authors have "name your price" models, which can be more accessible. Creators on itch will also bundle their work on a fairly regular basis, so you can get like 10-20 books for $10, which is, by my token, an excellent price.

If there's a particular author you're interested in, a lot of self-pub trans authors have Patreon accounts where they serialize their novels. You also can find serial (pre-edit) versions of a bunch of books on Scribblehub.

This has gotten steadily less affordable over the last few years cause Amazon is evil, but Kindle Unlimited ($11.99 a month, but there's a free trial) has thousands of trans books. Most of them are erotica, but like, there are a lot of hidden gems in there, and if you're a voracious enough reader, then it'll definitely be much cheaper per book than buying trad.

The problem with all of these, though, is that they tend to favor specific genres and tropes. Like there's only so much variety on itch.io or Scribblehub or transreads.org or KU. So if you like the genre conventions, then awesome! But if you don't it's probably not for you.

And none of it will give you access to some of the rare older tradpub books or the new but scarce releases that I've been going through unless you're willing to pay the full price for them.

I wish I had a better answer, but that's unfortunately the current state of the industry :/

Hopefully this ramble is helpful.

Beth

[sweetbans29]

Varsity Jacket - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin keep it light and playful at a game (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Is this not everyones dream?

It's the first time in the state's history of WBB that they decided to play basketball in a football stadium. A piece of history that has been led by one girl allowing thousands to benefit.

The game was chosen to be an exhibition game, a kick-off to the season, naming it the Crossover at Kinnick. They laid the Iowa WBB court within the confines of the outdoor football stadium, drawing a near 55,000 fans to be a part of the first game in Caitlin Clark's senior year. A NCAA record-breaking 55,000 fans. The first of many records Clark would break this upcoming season.

The game followed a lot of football Saturday traditions. The way the team was called out, a stadium flyover, and your favorite part - the Hawkeye Wave over to the kids in the UI Stead Family Children’s Hospital. You had done it before when your team had danced at football games and were excited to be a part of it today.

You are proud to be part of the Iowa Hawkeye dance team - have been for the past three years now. It is what brought you to IU in the first place.

Growing up dance had always been something you enjoyed. Unlike most of the other girls on the dance team, you didn't start taking dance classes until halfway through middle school. When you learned you had a natural talent for it, you started taking it more seriously. You joined your high school's dance team and decided it was something you wanted to try your hand at in college. When you auditioned going into your freshman year, you were one of two freshmen to make the team.

Since then you have captained the team for two football seasons, going into your third. Yet here you are, freezing your azz off because you forgot your damn coat.

Upon arriving at the stadium, you should have been prepared. You should have thought through how it is November in Iowa and how it is about to be winter but that doesn't cross your mind until you are shaking courtside.

"Didn't you bring a coat?" One of your teammates asks. She is currently bundled up in two jackets, ear muffs, and hand warmers.

"If I did, don't you think I would be wearing it?" You snap and immediately realize. "I'm sorry babe, I am just freezing."

You are trying to hide your shaking body and keep moving around to generate any sort of heat that you can.

A part of being on the dance team was being visible during the whole game. You weren't the cheer squad but your team had to be posted up next to them every game. It wasn't bad, it was just cold.

As halftime approached you directed your team to stretch out again, not wanting them to pull anything while dancing. You did the same, as you watched your basketball continue to do what they do best.

Once everyone was stretched, you all bunched together ready to take the court.

"I am still freezing my ass off," you say rubbing your hands together and huddle close to your friend. "I can't believe I didn't bring my freaking overcoat."

The team was coming off when someone bumped your shoulder causing you to take a few steps back.

"Hey! Watch it," you tell the 6-foot frame.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," the girl says. You pull down your skirt and smooth it over. Once you are satisfied with your outfit adjustment you look up.

'Of-freaking-course', you think to yourself as you make eye contact with none other than Caitlin Clark.

"I didn't see you there," she says, the slightest smirk peaking out.

"Very funny Clark," you say trying to hide your own smile and keep it serious.

"Oh, keeping it professional now are we?" She says. "It's cute, but you can call me Caitlin."

"That is so kind of you," you say, kind of surprised she is still there talking to you. You finish your sentence with, "Clark."

She just smiles and shakes her head. You hear the music come on and you know it's your cue. Caitlin doesn't follow the rest of the team back through the tunnel, rather stands to the side and watches you and your team take the court.

Caitlin knows she should be back with her team. More so to warm up but she couldn't nor wanted to take her eyes off you. She stood there watching you and your team keep everyone entertained during halftime. A smile resting on her lips the entire time.

She has seen you around before. How could she not, you were at practically every sports game. Caitlin would frequent the Hawkeye's football games but never really got close enough to see you perform (something she will probably never admit to you). If it wasn't seeing you in passing there, she noticed you would go and watch other sports just for fun. She has to think about it but if she remembers correctly she has seen you at both the men's and women's volleyball matches, women's soccer, and even some track and even the women's swim and dive meets.

Caitlin cheers on your team as you finish your routine and runoff, making way for the cheer squad to perform their routine next. As you make your way back you see Cait standing in the same spot she bumped you in. She is smiling at you and clapping as you make your way over. You walk up to her despite the murmurs you hear from your team, only making out your name and Caitlin's in their muffled conversations.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere, Clark?" You ask as you cross your arms over your chest. You may have just performed a 6-minute dance routine but the chilled air was unforgiving.

"Wanted to stay out here and watch - making sure your little frozen ass doesn't fall off," she says, her eyes never leaving yours.

"The team is great," you say with a smile choosing to ignore the second part of her statement and refusing to be the first one to break eye contact.

"I wasn't watching the team," she says, that stupid smirk playing on her lips again. You could feel yourself losing this battle.

"That's a shame, they are great," you say trying to regain any part of this conversation.

"Maybe, but not as great as who I had my eyes on," she says. You blush and look away. You felt like you were being interrogated by the freaking CIA not flirting with your school's superstar.

"Okay, Clark, you win," you say as you crumble under her gaze.

She rubs the back of your arm, letting her hand linger on you. You look back up at her.

"I should get back," she says not wanting to leave you but knowing her job isn't done.

"You should," you say, agreeing for her - the first time since this conversation has started.

"Thanks for umm, thanks for watching," you say, your nerves peaking out. She nods and heads in the direction of her team.

What the hell was that? You make your way over to your team and they are all chattering about the interaction. You take your seat next to your co-captain who is just looking at you.

You keep your head forward still processing it all. Caitlin Clark was just talking to you. Not only that, but she waited and watched you perform then proceeded to flirt with you about it. Her hand was on your arm. You were thankful it wasn't skin-to-skin contact because you probably would have never let her walk away. She was teasing you.

You are too caught up in your own thoughts to see when someone had walked up to you. Your co-cap tapping your leg and nodding at the woman who was standing in front of you.

"Oh hi," you say and stand.

"I was told to bring this over to you," she says holding something, you look down and it's a jacket.

"Oh thank you," you say grabbing it.

"She wanted me to say it is from Caitlin," she says, emphasizing the name. "Told me I had to emphasize the name."

The woman walks away and you unfold the jacket to see 'CLARK' on the back right above the number 22. This girl is not serious right now. If you were under any other circumstance, you would not be putting it on but since the only time you have stopped shaking was while you were performing you decide to put the jacket on.

If your team was whispering about your interaction with Caitlin before, they are shouting from the rooftops now.

The basketball team comes back out and you find yourself looking for a particular someone. To your delight, she is making her way over to you.

"You got it, good," she says, wrapped in an Iowa jacket of her own.

"You didn't need to do this," you say but make no move to try and hand it back to her. It has been the warmest you have been the whole game. She lets out a little laugh.

"Sure, says the one who was shaking like a chihuahua," she says taking in the sight of you in her clothing. She could get used to this.

"I appreciate it, Clark," you say and she groans.

"Caitlin," she says.

"Clark," you retort.

"Cait," she responds.

"Clark," you are not giving in.

"CC, Caity, C - anything but Clark," she says frustrated.

"Why does it bother you so much that I call you by your last name?" You ask now the one who has the slight edge in the conversation.

"Clark, get your butt over here," one of her coaches yells at her.

"That's why," she mumbles and gives you one last look before running back over to the team.

"Get it Clark!" You yell after her, earning some whistles and shouts from your team.

You're thankful it is still cold out because the redness on your cheeks can easily be taken as cold, hiding your blush.

Your team doesn't shut up about the fact that you had talked to Caitlin but she gave her varsity jacket to you to wear. All the girls were staring at you and taking in the sight of the player's jacket.

A ball gets swatted out of bounds and you catch it before it can hit anyone on your team. Caitlin sees where it goes and books it to grab it from you.

Here is the thing about Caitlin, she is the last person to go and catch a ball that has been hit out of bounds. Her whole team was aware of this. So it is to everyone's surprise when she is the first one to hustle after the ball when the whistle is blown.

You hold up the ball for her.

"Careful there Clark, could have hurt someone," you say.

She laughs, "Ya right."

"Since when are you the first one to run after a loose ball," you say exposing that you may have watched her more than a few times. Could anyone blame you? Caitlin has been drawing the attention of the whole nation.

"Didn't want to miss the opportunity to come talk to the pretty girl," she says with that damn smirk.

"You are too kind Clark," you say faking flattery.

"Oh, I was talking about the girl next to you," she says teasing you.

You sit there speechless as Caitlin finally takes the ball.

"I'm kidding, but you should see the look on your face. It's priceless," she says winking at you before heading back over to inbound the ball.

'Oh it is on Clark' you think as you watch them finish up the last quarter.

Caitlin, of course, plays amazing. She finishes the game off with her first triple-double of the season. You watch as she celebrates with her team - all of who were excited to start the season on a high note. You are celebrating with your team when they all go quite in front of you and stare at something behind you. You turn around before Caitlin can tap your shoulder.

"Ahh, so we meet again," you say with a smile. "Well done Clark."

"Okay, enough with the Clark. You are wearing my jacket for goodness sake," she says and shakes her head.

"Oh, ya, thank you for this," you say and begin to take it off. She stops you by putting her hand on your arm - the second time today you note.

"Hold on to it, if you take it off now you will start shaking again and I don't really care to see you looking like a little chihuahua," she says and scratches the back of her neck. You raise your eyebrow at her. If you don't give her the jacket back now, that means you will need to see her again to return it.

"And who exactly am I supposed to get this back to you?" You ask.

"Well that is actually why I came over here," she says and you can tell she is a little more nervous than she had been before. You don't notice but both of your teams are watching the interaction between you.

"Okay," you say encouraging her to continue.

"How would you feel about going out with me this weekend?" Caitlin says as she has to mentally remind herself to keep her breathing steady and to not rush her words.

"I don't know..." you start. "I was thinking I could just have someone swing the jacket by one of your practices."

Caitlin's face looks mortified and you immediately bring your hand up to hers to ease her, your joke being taken a little too serious.

"I'm kidding Clark," you say and give her hand a squeeze. "I would love to go out with you this weekend."

She smiles widely.

"Great," she says. "I'll text you details," she begins walking backward.

"And how are you going to do that without my number?" You say as she is now just out of reach.

"You're cute," she says, now back in control of the conversation. "I've had your number for a while, now I just get to use it."

You stare at her, mouth agape. You don't know how to get the last word in so she does.

"Talk to you soon babe!" Caitlin says and runs back towards her team.

AN: This was a cutie. Hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[androgynealienfemme]

"I was born thirty eight years ago and raised to be a nice Chinese girl. But nice Chinese girls don't grow up to be dykes and rebels. And I turned out to be both.

I grew up on silence. Though I was part of a large extended family, we ate in silence. There was no conversation or laughter, just the sound of soup spoons and chopsticks against rice bowls. I was not encouraged to talk, express emotions, or ask questions. I grew up with a heritage of silence.

I was a girl child, the first born in a traditional Chinese family, raised to be seen but not heard, raised to excel in school but not be curious, raised to be someone's wife but not to be a person of my own. When I was growing up in England, Hong Kong, and San Francisco, I read everything I could get my hands on, but none of the books spoke of my own experience. I started writing when I was eleven years old to fill the silence and to turn the years of rejection into affirmation.

You're probably wondering what the hell any of this h as to do with sex. The answer is- plenty. What I write is shaped by my history and experience as both a Chinese woman and as a lesbian.

Chinese is my first language. But I was fluent only in the words my parents deemed it necessary for me to know. I was certainly not taught the words for breast, cunt, ass, or orgasm. There were no words for sex; therefore, sex did not exist.

I came out as a lesbian when I was twenty-one, but I didn't start writing about sex until almost a decade later. Sure, I wrote love poems, but I never wrote about sex. I was, after all, a nice Chinese girl and we didn't''t talk about things like that. --

I have always loved women passionately. I love the way a femme moves across a dance floor, knowing all eyes are focused on her. I love the hard eye-to-eye look from another butch as she sizes me up as competition- or her next conquest. I love the fluid seduction in a femmes eyes. I love the long line of her neck, her delicate earlobes and soft lips, painted some shade of red or unpainted but deeply flushed from having been kissed long and hard. Many times. I love the curve of her breast, the hardness of her nipples, the softness of her stomach, the fullness of her ass, her legs with a faint covering of hair or long and sleek in black silk stockings. I love the strength of her in her thighs, the firmness of her biceps, the feel of her forearms as she takes me. I love the smell of her heat and the place of pleasure between her legs. I love her ankles and her delicate toes and her soft instep where I run my tongue until my teeth are gripping her Achilles tendon. I love the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her, the sight of her. I love women passionately.

--

Some women do not attend my theater or literary events for fear of supporting my sexual politics. I have been accused of recruiting. Never mind that I have a long history of writing, community organizing, and activism. Now I am judged solely for my leather sexuality. It's never been easy being different, but I have always survived. I will continue to speak out, write truths, and make waves. My countryman Mao Zedong wrote, "Dare to struggle, dare to win." I say, dare to write. Dare to be different. And who says nice Chinese girls don't talk about sex?"

"Who Says we Don't Talk About Sex?" Kitty Tsui, The Persistent Desire, (Edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)

[mariacallous]

Salman Rushdie has just published Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder. In August 2022, he was giving a talk at the Chautauqua Institution in New York. Hadi Matar, a 24-year-old from New Jersey, rushed the stage and stabbed him 15 times. It was astonishing that Salman survived. He lost the sight in one eye and sustained terrible injuries, but he’s still with us and he’s still writing, and unlike Hadi Matar, he’s still worth hearing.

We think of fanatics as stalkers with an obsessive knowledge of their targets.  Like the antisemites who compile lists of Jews in the media or the homophobes who so focus on the details of gay sex they might almost be closet cases

Most terrorists and bigots are not like that. They are like soldiers in an army who kill and hate for no other reason than tradition or men in authority have told them to kill and hate. If we were less fascinated by the pseudo-glamour of violence, we would see them for what they are: dullards and jerks.

In Knife Salman is almost as angered by the sheer lazy stupidity of his wannabee assassin as his violence.

“I do not want to use his name in this account. My Assailant, my would-be Assassin, the Asinine man who made Assumptions about me, and with whom I had a near-lethal Assignation … I have found myself thinking of him, perhaps forgivably, as an Ass.”

The ass “didn’t bother to inform himself about the man he decided to kill. By his own admission he read barely two pages of my writing and watched a couple of YouTube videos”.

That was enough, apparently, along with a little light indoctrination in the Levant.

We know from Matar’s mother that her son changed from a popular young man to a moody religious zealot after visiting her ex-husband in the Hezbollah-controlled town of Yaroun in Lebanon, a mile or so from the Israeli border.

“I was expecting him to come back motivated, to complete school, to get his degree and a job. But instead, he locked himself in the basement. He had changed a lot. He didn't say anything to me or his sisters for months.”

Salman quotes a wonderfully perceptive line from Jodi Picoult

“If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

Rushdie is openly contemptuous, as he has every right to be.

“I see you now at twenty-four,” he writes, “already disappointed by life, disappointed in your mother, your sisters, your father, your lack of boxing talent, your lack of any talent at all; disappointed in the bleak future you saw stretching ahead of you, for which you refused to blame yourself.”

This has always been the way. Readers old enough to remember 1989 when the Ayatollah Khomeini ordered Salman’s execution for writing a blasphemous satire of Islam’s origin story in the Satanic Verses,will know that Khomeini had not read it. Nor had the furious demonstrators in the streets or the regressive leftists and Tory ministers who upbraided him for the non-crime of causing offence.

Those of us who had read the book pointed out that it was a magical realist fiction which contained sympathetic accounts of the racism Muslim immigrants in the UK suffered. Indeed, the Tories of the day loathed Salman, we continued, because of his confrontations with official racism.

But after a while we fell silent. Pleading with his enemies felt demeaning. It gave them undeserved credit, as if they were reasonable people, who could be swayed by evidence rather than just, well, pillocks.

In Knife Salman attempts an imaginary conversation with his persecutor.

OK, he says, Islam, unlike Judaism and Christianity, holds that man is not made in God’s image. God has no human qualities, it says.

But isn’t language a human quality? To have language, God would have to have a mouth, a tongue, vocal cords and a voice, just like a man. The terrorist’s understanding is that God cannot be like a man, however. So, God could not have spoken to Gabriel in Arabic. Gabriel must have translated his message when he came to the prophet.

The angel made it comprehensible to Muhammed by delivering it in human speech which is not the speech of God.

Thus, the version of Islamic instruction Matar received in his basement when he switched from playing video games to listening to Imams was an interpretation of a translation.

“I’m trying to suggest to you that, even according to your own tradition, there is uncertainty. Some of your own early philosophers have suggested this. They say everything can be interpreted, even the Book. It can be interpreted according to the times in which the interpreter lives. Literalism is a mistake.”

For a while, Rushdie says he wants to meet Matar again at the trial, as if he wants to have the argument in the flesh.

He tells a story about Samuel Beckett, which could only have happened to Samuel Beckett.

Beckett was walking through Paris in 1938 when he was confronted by a pimp named Prudent, who wanted money from him. Beckett pushed Prudent away, whereupon the pimp pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the chest, narrowly missing the left lung and the heart.

Beckett was taken to the nearest hospital, bleeding heavily. He only just survived.

You will never guess who paid for his treatment. James Joyce, of course, he did.

Anyway, Beckett went to the pimp’s trial. He met Prudent in the courtroom, and asked him why he had done it. This was the pimp’s reply: “Je ne sais pas, monsieur. Je m’excuse.” (I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.)

But the more he thought about it, the less Rushdie had to say to his enemy. The idea that you can have theological arguments with a man who wants to kill you for writing a book he hasn’t even read felt ridiculous.

Although popular culture is full of stories about murderers, and true crime podcasts top the charts, killers and fanatics are nearly always less interesting than their victims. More often than not they are just thick. Nasty and vicious, but thick first of all.

We are about to see the stupidity of fanatics deployed on a mass scale. Two thirds of Republican voters (and nearly 3 in 10 Americans) continue to believe that the 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump, and that Joe Biden was not lawfully elected. They think it because that is what Trump told them to think.

Islamists told Matar that Salman was an apostate, and that was all he needed to know. Trump told Republicans the election was stolen and ditto.

If Republicans were consistent people, they would not vote for Trump in 2024. What would be the point? They would have every reason to fear that the deep state would rig the 2024 presidential election as it rigged the 2020 presidential election.

But they will vote for him because, once again, that is what he tells them to do.

In the end there is a limit to how much attention you can pay the vicious and the stupid.

They are not interesting enough, as Rushdie concluded with marvellous disdain as he contemplated the life sentence Matar will face.

"Here we stand: the man who failed to kill an unarmed seventy-five-year-old writer, and the now 76-year-old writer. Somewhat to my surprise, I find I have very little to say to you. Our lives touched each other for an instant and then separated. Mine has improved since that day, while yours has deteriorated. You made a bad gamble and lost. I was the one with the luck… Perhaps, in the incarcerated decades that stretch out before you, you will learn introspection, and come to understand that you did something wrong. But you know what? I don’t care. This, I think, is what I have come to this courtroom to say to you. I don’t care about you, or the ideology that you claim to represent, and which you represent so poorly. I have my life, and my work, and there are people who love me. I care about those things.”

[drdemonprince]

i was on NPR talking about Autism shit two weeks ago, and i have the book sales figures from that week and that national media appearance had.... absolutely zero relationship to sales. on the typical week these days, 1,400 to 1,500 copies of Unmasking Autism will sell. The week that I was on NPR there was a slight dip; only about 1,300 books were sold.

i have done a lot of press for my books. For Laziness Does Not Exist I did easily a 100 damn podcasts and radio shows and newspapers and excerpts in magazines. none of it corresponded to a noticeable bump in sales. the biggest "get" my publicist found for my latest book was the Glennon Doyle show, a booking she and her team celebrated and then spent months clamboring excitedly for... it, too, had no obvious relationship to sales.

Unmasking Autism became a bestseller because some other guy made a tiktok about it, and then a bunch of tiktokkers made videos about it too. all on their own. without any prodding from me, or any relationship to me. it was completely organic, passionate, and sincere, and rooted in the book's true merits and usefulness to other people, and that's why it inspired lots of sales. and continues to more than a year and a half later. all the press I did for Unmasking Autism prior to the release of that tiktok did relatively far less. NPR, Goop, the LA Times, Lit Hub, Jacobin, Huffpo, the New York Times, the Financial Times, MSNBC, Business Insider. Didn't matter. at least not much. so why do i bother?

publishers really ride your ass trying to make you give lots of interviews and show up for lots of events but it's all based on the worship of traditional media and magical thinking that it will somehow convert listeners into buyers. and that's just not how it works. the truth is 95% of books never sell more than 5,000 copies, and most people don't buy books or read them. i love reading but i dont think this is itself some terrible loss, as most books are padded-out commodities made for sale more than a work of true artistic passion or scholarly merit, and sometimes listening to a 90 minute interview with an author tells you the bulk of what you need to know.

it's freeing to know that the effort i put into getting my books out into the world have almost zero relationship to the books' success. marketing just does not work. it's a relief. unmasking autism did fabulously because it's actually both good and useful. laziness has had a long life span because it speaks to real problems in people's lives and gives them a message they are desperate to hear. but no amount of thirsty ass online shilling will make somebody realize that and it's maddening to try. you just gotta focus on doing good work, work that you enjoy making or need to make and that you feel good about, let things flop if theyre gonna flop, and keep on living your life.

which is all good news because i really do hate a lot of these fucking interviews. how can i stomach being on npr or in the atlantic or whatever these days given how complicit nearly all major media outlets are in justifying this genocide. like who fuckin cares about them, who wants their approval. who needs it. it's of no value

[dancingtotuyo]

Summer of '03

Joel Miller x Female Reader | A Woman Story

Rating: Pg- 13

Summary: The first time Joel sees you as the woman you've become.

Tags/Warnings: age gap (13ish years), baby sitter, consumption of alcohol, summer.

Notes: I'm calling this a bridge. A scene that happens in all the timelines and universes of my dear Woman Reader and Joel. Consider this the point of divergence. I wonder what happened with these two if the outbreak never happened? I suppose only time will tell... 😉

shoutout to @murder-wife and @guiltyasdave for beta reading! I love you both!

Words: 1412

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Joel isn’t sure why he came. The Randolf’s summer pool party is a block tradition, but Sarah is at camp this year. Meaning, he had every excuse in the book to get out of it but here he is, standing against the fence, beer in his hand, watching as the kids jump in and out endlessly as burgers and hot dogs sizzle on the grill and folks lay out in the sun. 

It’s not that he dislikes these events. Maybe he finds them to draw on a little too long until people get just a little too sloppy drunk, but Joel has mastered the art of excusing himself early. He’s only a two minute walk down the street anyway. It’s just that there are usually other ways he would rather spend his Saturdays. He has a couple neglected projects calling his name in the garage, yet he still finds himself here. For tradition's sake, maybe? It doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things he supposes.

Joel shoves his free hand in the pockets of his jeans, taking another sip of his beer. It’s hot outside as condensation drips from the bottle. He finishes it off, the label peeling off the bottle. His eyes scan back over the crowd. Most of the neighborhood is here and if they’re not, Joel expects to find them filing in soon. 

He’s doing a second scan over the crowd when he makes eye contact with you across the pool. You’re sitting with a group of friends perched on a couple of lounge chairs with wine coolers in hand. Joel tries to think back to the last time he saw you. It must’ve been last summer before you headed out for your Senior year of college, the last time Tommy got himself into a bind and needed bailing out. 

You wave to him, offering up a smile and he returns the gesture with a tip of his bottle before you’re pulled back into conversation with your friends. Joel can’t help but notice a slight change in you over the past couple of years. He supposes it’s the growth from teen to adult. You graduated this past spring. He remembers Sarah talking about it, how excited she was for you when you landed the ER job. 

Someone calls Joel’s name, pulling his attention away from you. 

You’re only pretending to listen as your friend Mandy rattles on about her recent hook up. Usually, you’d be interested in the details she’s providing, but Joel Miller has you distracted. You had hoped you would be past the silly crush at this point in your life, but your eyes track him relentlessly. Watching as he makes idle conversation with some of the dad’s on the block. You wonder how he’s wearing jeans in this heat. You don’t mind. They make his ass look good. 

You’re an adult with a job now continuing to harbor feelings from highschool seems silly, but there’s that little voice in your head now, the one that says you’re old enough now.. You’re an adult now. You’ve entered the workforce. You try to block out that voice. Joel Miller is not what you need, but you still want him. 

“Hey!” Mandy snaps her fingers in front of your face, pulling you back to the group. 

“Sorry, what did I miss?” You adjust your sunglasses, taking a sip of your drink as you make a concentrated effort to stay present with your friends. 

“Are you still hung up on the DILF?” Maryanne teases. 

“DILF? Where?” Whitney pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head, looking over the flock of people. 

Embarrassment heats your cheeks as Mandy points him out. Whitney is less and subtle. “You grew up with THAT across the street?” 

“Will you be quiet? Someone is gonna hear you.” You swat at your friends. 

“I’m just saying, I understand the crush now.”

“I don’t have a crush on him anymore.” You lie through your teeth and you’re bad at it. 

Mandy rolls her eyes. “Yeah right.”

“He is very handsome,” Maryanne adds.

You finish off your drink. “Can we stop ogling him now? He’s gonna catch y’all.”

“Really? You’ve been doing it for years, we can’t for five minutes?” Mandy winks. 

“From the woman who told me she didn’t see it.”

“Hey! I’m older and wiser now,” Mandy says. 

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your eyes from wandering to the man of the hour. You really need to get over this crush. “I’m going to cool off.” You finish off your wine cooler, dropping your cover up before jumping into the pool before your friends can reply. 

Joel lost count of his drinks around number three or four. He’s pacing himself, but between the heat and the ease in which his drinks are going down, he’s feeling the easy buzz of the beer. He’s stayed longer than he ever intended to, but he’s okay with that. 

Joel wanders inside to use the bathroom. The AC feels nice on his sweat sheened skin. People gather in the kitchen, a couple walk through the house. There’s more people than he knows here. He’ll hand it to the Randolfs. They know how to throw a party.

He’s grateful to find the bathroom unoccupied, locking it behind him. He’s quick about his business, splashing cool water against his face and neck. It clears his mind some. He should head home soon. He’ll be grumpy if he doesn’t take some time to himself. 

He’s barely flipped the lock when the door flies open, you falling in with it. He’s almost hit by the door yet somehow manages to catch you as well. You’re a fit of loose giggles as his arms wrap around your torso, meeting the sun warmed skin exposed by your bikini. 

“Careful there, Sweetheart. You nearly took me out.” Joel can’t help the chuckle in his voice. He’s used to seeing you on the clock when you’re responsible for his child. This is a very different version of you, but he can’t help but find it endearing. 

“Sorry.” You manage to straighten up, but even through the boozy haze, Joel’s touch sears against your skin. Your cheeks warm over and it’s from much more than the sun. 

He smiles at you, helping you right yourself, but his hands stay against your back. Yours settle flat on his solid chest. “You get a little carried away?”

“Don’t tell my parents.” You barely manage to wink, making him laugh even harder. 

“My lips are sealed.” 

“Oh good,” You sigh in relief as if Joel just did you the biggest favor of your life and you’re not of legal drinking age. “You’re a good man, Joel.” You pat his chest. 

“Thank you.”

“Can you leave now?”

“Sure thing.” He smiles at you, ensuring you’re stable on your feet before he slips by you, his searing touch gone. 

The loss of his touch sobers your intoxicated body. You can’t help but watch him go, cotton t shirt stretching temptingly across his shoulders. Chills form on your sides, phantoms of his touch still teasing you. You watch the empty hall in front of you, replaying the moment in your head for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone. 

Joel lets out a long shaky breath as he walks right out the front door, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. It’s a quick walk home, even with the buzz of the alcohol in his veins. On the walk home, he attempts to clear his mind of what happened, but he can still feel your soft skin under his hands. He can smell the sweet mixture of sunscreen and you like you’re still in his arms. 

When he makes it home, he still hasn’t flushed the sensations of you from his mind. The way you looked in that swimsuit, hugging you perfectly. He knows it’s wrong. It makes him a dirty old man. The more he tries, the more he thinks about it. The more he replays it in his mind. He has no right to think about you like this, to view you as desirable. 

Joel takes another deep breath, resting his head against the front door. You called him a good man, but a good man doesn’t fall into this trap: the babysitter, the girl next door. He repeats that to himself. Girl. You’re a girl, but his brain keeps reminding him that you are a woman now.  

Woman Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[pascals-doll]

mini skirt

javíer peña x reader

ೀ ive been so focused on my series i missed writing for our man osrs !!

ೀ its spring break n with amount of parties ive got to attend, my ass will b going to write a fic duh!

ೀ description: porn with no plot literally, SMUT SMUT, this shit lowk filthy, reader is bent over the passenger seat 😶, public sex!, parked (?) car sex, oral sex (r receiving) exhibitionism, dom!javíer, mean!javíer, possesive af!javí, sub!reader, reader speaks slight spanish, reader is thristy for javi, JAVÍ TALKS YOU THRU IT/IN SPANISH 2 (😩🤧), lowk degradation in spanish aswell, multiple orgasms, slight overstim (r receiving), degradation ( r receiving), eating out from the back, spanking, doggystyle, hair pulling ( r receiving), choking ( r receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n, use of pet names (pequeña, neña, bebésita, amor/amorsita)

spanish key words for all my non-spanish speakers !

-pequeña/neña: term of endearment for someone smaller than/my girl, babygirl

-princesa/bebésita: my baby/princess

-dime/porque: tell me/why

- tan’ mojada/tan linda: so wet/ your so wet/such a sweet/so sweet

-lo que quieres/dios mio: my god/oh my god/what you want

-belleza/sucia: beauty/dirty/filthy

-amas/amor/(sita): you love/love/lover

-como te pongo/volverá pasar: how i get you/ever happen again/happened again

-eso/lo que pasará : a way of affirming or agreeing/what will happen again

in traditional way of celebrating the spring break, how else than going out with your girls to the club?

the winter was finally over as women traded their big coats and long-sleeves for skimpy tops and short skirts or shorts.

your beloved boyfriend knew you would be going out tonight, letting him know before he left for his federal attendees.

Javíer didn’t say much except to text him once you left the house, arrived at the party, and when to come pick you up.

Javí was a sweet, a gentle giant.

but he was also stern, it was a trait he had to deal with being apart of the job. it was in his nature to be overprotective.

his eyes told you something completely different along with his stance although he didn’t once tell you a negative thing for wanting to go out and have fun.

he had his hands on his hips, popping one out as his eyebrows tensed together and his tongue poked through his cheek. Javí’s eyes were mean and deep as he stared at you while you promised him to let him know the second anything were to happen before he got ready for work.

you were all dressed up by 9:00 pm as you now, waited on your friends to pick you up at any moment now.

you were wearing a green tube top, pairing it with a pink plaid mini skirt. you chose a cute silver chain belt as an accessory to go along with your silver blinged earrings.

your makeup was set onto your skin perfectly, bringing out the best features of your beauty. your hair was styled to your liking and you chose these cute bubblegum pink pumps to piece your outfit all together.

you picked up your phone, having a small photoshoot of your own before choosing the picture you thought was best and sending it to Javìer.

you were sat infront of the mirror, pulling a cute pose while trying to get you whole outfit in frame.

not even 3 minutes later, a ping rings through your phone.

⤷ que belleza neña go have ur fun for now

⤷ cus ur not gonna like it when i pick u up

your heart raced with lustful anticipation and excitement. you continued to tease him through message, sending another picture to him that showed how risque your pink mini-skirt was.

⤷ u are so done for pequeña

he wasn’t even here, yet you could feel his menacing presence and hear his strict tone in your head.

soon enough, you were getting a call from your friends; letting you know they were outside.

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧ ✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

you and your bestfriend danced along to the house music that played through the huge booming speakers of the wide-spaced club that was only illuminated by a combination of different color fading lights.

you had a few drinks already, loosing track of how long you’ve been dancing for before stepping away with your friends. you went back to your the corner couch you were seated at along with your friends.

you felt hazed out and tipsy as you uncapped your water bottle before taking a sip.

all your tipsy self could think about was Javí, it was 1 AM and you knew he was awake and on stand-by for you.

your vision was blurry because of the alcohol as you open his contact, dialing him on the phone. you hear the phone ring momentarily before connecting.

“everything good, princesa?”

“mmhmm, i misss you javí” you slurred out.

“how drunk are you, neña?” his tone was caring, making your overwhelmed tipsy body run a cold shiver through your spine.

“s’only tipsyy—amor?” you respond before calling out to him, more like whining out to him.

“dime pequeña” the way his voice sounded so caring, yet stern, made your body quiver and breath hitch.

the alcohol was definitely assisting your mind in fogging it with only one thought; Javíer.

“come pick me up—s’wanna go home to youu” you plead with a slight moan, the alcohol was definitely getting the best of you.

“i’ll be there in 15 minutes, get ready.”

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧ ✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

Javí was not an idiot, he could hear the neediness in your tone.

after being together for 5 years, Javí always knew the second his poor girl had one too many drinks and wanted to run home to her man.

which is how you always ended up with you stuffed so full of Javíer’s thick cock after a night out.

Javíer practically sped through the semi-empty midnight streets, definitely not driving the speed limit.

soon enough he was outside the club venue, sending you a message that he was outside. Javíer couldn’t find close parking, so he parked the car farther down the empty street.

you were inside, hugging your friend's goodbye, grabbing your purse before they walked you to the front of the club door.

you opened the door and there he was, the man you had been longing for the whole night. he was standing there under the streetlight with a lit cigarette in his mouth.

he had his light blue button up hugging his chest and muscular arms as it was tucked into his jeans, his belt holding his pants perfectly.

you took him in as you step towards him as he puffed on his cigarette while his eyes traveled down your body.

Javíer took in the way your tits were accentuated through your small green top, your skirt stopped just at your upper thigh as your entire legs were on display, and your pumps gave you a taller stance than your natural one.

you still were not enough to compare to his tall and built frame.

Javí steps closer once you were just a foot away from him, your face meeting his broad chest “real dolled up, huh?” he mutters under his breath, lifting two fingers to grasp your chin; making you look up at him.

you felt your voice caught in your throat as you felt your heat begin to pool into your panties. the breeze from the cold night air, lifting the blimps of your skin.

“c’mon pequeña, i parked the car a little down” Javí instinctively wraps his arm around your lower waist, his hand ghosting over your ass.

you didn’t realize how he was sizing up your skirt with his hand, seeing how close he was to that pretty pussy over your little skirt.

you both made your way down the dark street; the night sky being illuminated by the full moon that was bleeding bright tonight as you both walked past dim streetlights.

you pass a couple empty parked cars; the streets empty with no one in view.

you walked down with Javíer having a tight grasp on your waist made your mind run wild in a pure lustful frenzy.

you see Javí’s truck come into view, recognizing the big black vehicle from a few feet away.

“so did you have fun, princesa?” he begins to ask you about your night as the arm that was wrapped around you loosens. he took your purse from your arm before proceeding to unlock the door.

“was’good babyy, i danced a good bit with my friends after i finished my two drinkss” you slightly slurred out as your vision regained its focus but feeling the buzz still tingle up your body.

he opened the passenger door for you as he set your purse down inside the car.

all you heard from Javí was an almost inaudible hum from his lips as you go to step into the passenger seat…. or at least you tried.

Javíer immediately made your body fumble over into the passenger seat, bending over with one knee on the seat and your other foot down onto the pedestal below his truck, holding your balance.

“Ja-Javí?” you were slightly taken aback by the way he grabbed you, but you weren’t complaining as him manhandling you completely had your panties glued to your slit by your own arousal.

“i bet all the men in there enjoyed the little show you gave them” his tone was husky and cold as you felt his back against yours as his thick cool buckle brushed against the back of your exposed thighs.

“I-no—I wasn’t” you began to whine out, your ass squirming a little and bumping up against his belt buckle more.

“hm neña? I couldn’t hear you.” you felt his cold hands flip your skirt up, fondling and gripping the flesh as more midnight breeze pushed against your skin.

you were facing forward, only seeing the complete inside of his car and empty driver seat.

but you could completely feel Javíer behind you.

you looked back at him causing your body to arch down a bit more, completely exposing your seeped through panties. you’ve never felt so exposed before.

here you were, bent over Javí’s truck with your ass completely exposed for public display as the car door wasn’t shut at all.

the only coverage being the open car-door from the side; creating a makeshift shield from one angle as the other had a perfect view for anyone to see the way Javíer was going to fuck you.

“tan’ mojada pequeña, porque?”

you felt his hands run up and down your clothed slit, pushing the wet fabric against your pussy causing a temporary bubbly friction as you felt the pressure of his two fingers.

you let out a pathetic whimper as you lean yourself more forward, trying your hardest to focus on your balance.

“fuckin’ answer me when I'm talking to you!”

he ordered, his tone was harsh and guttural causing a chill to run up your body which was immediately followed by a jump as Javíer’s hand landed a dour smack onto the exposed flesh of your ass.

“you! s’all because of you!” you yelp out as you wiggle your ass excitingly.

“oh so, my slut does know how to speak” he mocked out, his tone pitying you.

“m’sorry Javí—no volverá pasar!” your voice velveted out as you pleaded, your legs quivering with each blow of nature’s breeze.

“mí neña tan linda, always wanting to go out in such slutty outfits.” he cooed out, his hands finding the slim lining of your underwear right under your skirt.

you felt so small and filthy like this, your body subconsciously growing timid under the oozing pleasure he was igniting inside you and out of you, right here at the corner of an empty street, in a parked car.

he pulled down your panties, watching through the natural gloomed out lighting how your panties sticked to your pussy with your juices leaking down you.

“look at that pretty pussy” he coos lewdly, causing you to whine out as takes his middle and ring finger to circle around your soaked pussyhole.

“been needing you, Javí baby” you began to babble as he made you grow more antsy in bliss.

“only you! need you—please-oh fuck!” your babbles were interrupted by your own shriek as you felt a warm wet feeling take over the one cold and exposed feeling of your pussy.

Javíer began to fuck you with his tongue, wasting no time in attaching his lips to your dripping pussy; how could he? when it was crying for him.

you tried to keep your balance by gripping onto the headrest of the passenger seat as you felt his tongue run a long swipe along your juiced folds “oh fuck Javí!” you were too fucking horny to care about your loud moans possibly ringing through the silent street-night.

not for a single second did Javí pull away from your pussy, giving her all his attention.

Javíer sucked on your clit, rolling his tongue around it and your slits as the only words that fell from your lips was his name.

“oh my—Javí! oh my fuck!” you couldn’t help but croak out your moans at the immense pleasure you were feeling.

the way he had you was bringing you pure rapture at the taboo thought of someone possibly watching you two in the midnight.

you could feel your stomach erupt as your orgasm bubbled through the delicious open-mouthed licks coming from his beautiful tongue.

you felt the small hairs of his mustache friction against your clit causing your ass to push back into his face more while you cried out in ecstasy. you felt yourself grow closer to your climax.

Javíer kept up with the volume of your moans and pathetic whines.

his pace never halting as his hands went to grip your hips to keep your ass bent over and pussy exposed as he eats you out like he hasn’t fucking eaten in decades.

you felt your orgasm begin to build up, you were sure your nails were digging into the plush of the passenger seat material, creating crescents into the fabric.

your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell agape in vicious delight. you felt your orgasm flow through your body as he licked each trickling bead from your leaking pussy.

you felt satisfaction warp through your body as you look back at Javí.

you could barely see him as the moon shined right behind his head like a make-shift crown, for the only man; only man you allowed to ever take you like this, like a whore.

Javíer had been palming his painful hard-on through his now, unzipped jeans; only the crotch of his boxers for display through his unbuckled belt.

you began to wriggle your ass even more, slightly backing it to brush up against his clothed cock. you felt the cool metal buckle against your flesh again, colliding with the feeling of another indecent smack to your plushy ass.

you were still looking back at him as you let out euphoric sob through fucked out eyes.

“dime lo que quieres, mi amor”

Javíer husked out, licking his lips before massaging the tingling flesh of your ass. his voice returned to a low octave, still carrying a stern, but no longer harsh demeanor.

“i need you to fuck me Javí!”

that was all he needed to hear to have him slipping his boxers low enough to pull out his thick erection, standing flavorful and tall.

Javíer pumped himself softly before aligning himself with your glistening entrance.

Javí squeezed your hips softly, bringing you closer to him as he sinks his cock into your gushy pussy.

the second you feel his cock glide into with ease like always, your pussy always managing to snug him perfectly into you as the stretch convulsed your pussy.

“y’always feel like fuckin’ heaven, bebésita” Javíer hissed out as the feeling of your balmy and pulsing pussy, taking him like you were made for him only.

“feels—feels so good amor! s’big!” you mewled out, your voice being fervent.

Javíer became the only thing you felt, engulfing your pussy and whole-being.

you felt him begin to slide in’n’out of you at a feverishly slow pace, making you feel every inch that smoothly drowned into each crevess of your insides.

just the feeling of Javí’s big thick cock had your breath caught in your chest, completely mind-bending as his soft slides turn into piquant thrusts in no time.

“mphm—díos mìo!” you cried out lecherously, you felt Javíer’s hand make its way up your semi-clothed back till it was entangled in your hair.

he doesn’t hesitate to pull on it, pulling your body up along the way and arching the position you were in more. you were sure your nails cut into the fabric of Javíer’s little truck.

Javíer’s savoring slow pace turned into pummeling thrusts. you could feel each bounce of your ass bounce off his hips as his hand tugged on your hair, inflaming a riveting pain in you.

his pace electrified with each little sob of his name that left your mouth, you could barely even speak as you tried to swallow back the drool that threaten to drip down the corner of your fucked out mouth.

“who’s slut are you, hm?” once again, his jarring tone and vulgarity came out.

“¡solo para ti! siempre para ti!” you chant , repeating it once more at another smack he landed on the now, strawberry flesh off your ass.

“eso bebèsita, all those men can look but, they can’t touch—isn’t that, right?” his question grunts out as his cock rams into you at a relishing speed.

your head was being tugged back as your body recoiled with every vigorous thrust from his snapping hips. your neck began to ache as you struggle to keep looking at him as his hand gripped your hair; unknowing if he can even see you but oh, he definitely can.

your eyes were squeezed shut as your mouth was completely agape, feeling wicked with the cock-dumb haze he put you in.

your body shook as Javíer completely ravished you.

“Javí—yes! fuck ya—” your pussy clenched around him with your fucked out babble.

“amás como te pongo, eh? letting me fuck you right’ere where anyone can see—que suciá.”

“for you—only—fuck—you!” your moans got more strangled out with each worship that left your mouth, his cock completely taking over your membrane; filling your pussy and mind with each hankering momentum.

his cock continued to plunge into you mercilessly, the sound of your each other’s skin slamming against each other with the small deep creaks coming from the moving truck.

Javíer was taking you viciously and relentlessly, his hand let go of the tug he had on your hair before finding its way around your neck, squeezing ever-so slightly.

all he wishes was to be able to be there with you, every single time you go out, but his job took so much time away from his personal life; it infuriated him, especially today when he seen those little pictures you sent him.

it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, he knew how much you loved him, but it was the people.

he wishes he could keep you like his gun, tucked away and only accessible to him.

you felt his cock pistol into you at a deeper angle, feeling his tip flutter against your cervix causing your tummy to swell in rapture. you weren’t even sure if you were still breathing at this point, only rigid cries and moans leaving your lips.

“please javí! please! s’much—too much!” you could feel your stomach bubble up immense pleasure and overstimulating pain as your walls flared and fluttered around his thick cock as your second orgasm begins to enthrall your body.

“now now, y’can handle the club—you can handle this dick, isn’t that right pequeña?” Javíer hissed and heaved out roughly as he feels his own climax approach him.

he still doesn't stop his hips from hauling into yours as he leans himself down, splaying his clothed chest against your back. you felt his free hand go up through your torso till he found his way to your titties, squeezing each one through your top.

you felt the way his callous big hands burned onto your chest and neck, now feeling hot on your sweating skin. your bodies rocked against each other as you both indulged in thrilling pleasure.

you felt the brim of your climax get closer to shooting through and out your body, pussy clenching once more around Javíer’s coated cock “ándale neña, dámelo” he coos breathlessly as his hips begin to stutter down into a flux pace.

the empty streets echoed with noises of your nefarious act.

you would be damned the minute anyone was to see two of you.

just the unholy thought of someone possibly watching the two of you. the way he had you like this; in a completely immorally beautiful position was enough to have your body skyrocket.

the intense wave that crashed through you as your cries croak out into silence, only now hearing Javíer’s deep groans and grunts in your ear as the grip he has on your throat tightens softly.

he began to reach his own climax as you felt him twitch inside your fluttering walls, milking him through his orgasm completely. your bodies completely melted into each other as you both became breathless together.

you felt the way his load creamed into you, coating your walls and filling you up with his creamy cum as he watches the mix of both your pulpy moisture drip out of your swollen hole.

you were seeing stars as your eyes were squeeze shut as the slight cut-off of oxygen had your mind-boggled and feeling febrile.

the second Javíer feels you turn into mush under him while in his embrace. he immediately pulls out, reality setting him out of his lust possessed-like trance.

he tucks himself away after hiking up your panties and pulling down your skirt. he reached over for his jacket that was in the driver's seat, sprawling it over your lap after he flipped you over; helping your sore and fucked-out self sit.

he immediately checked around to see if anyone had been watching before shutting your passenger door and making his way to sit in the driver’s seat.

he leaned over into you, placing a passionate kiss on your lips as his warm hand caresses your cheek before pulling away, still leaned in close to your lips.

“lo que pasára pequeña, if you wear these tiny mini skirts without around me”

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[theemporium]

[REQUESTS OPEN]

[4.7k] remus is dragged out to a rock pub after being influenced by sirius, but maybe the pretty punk girl talking to him makes it worth the sacrifice. even if she makes him unreasonably flustered. (smut)

based off the prompt: “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly”

.

Remus Lupin was never one to let peer pressure get to him, especially done by the likes of Sirius Black. 

His resolve was always pretty strong and despite his friend’s annoying persistency, he always did a pretty damn good job of telling him to fuck off before he finally caught the hint. It had been the practice over the many years of friendship the boys had shared and would most likely continue into their many years spent together into the future. 

Except for tonight. 

For some reason that was beyond him, he had broken his own tradition and found himself agreeing to whatever nonsense Sirius was rambling on about when he walked into the common room, dramatically sighing and pouting when he mentioned James bailed on him at the last minute for a date with Lily. 

“C’mon, Moony, it’s just one night,” Sirius had pleaded, half lying on the boy’s lap so he could grab the book out of his hands and gain the werewolf’s full attention. “Prongs is off with Evans and Peter has detention with Minnie. Come on! You’re my only hope!” 

“What about Mary?” 

“It’s not her scene.” 

“And Marlene?” 

“She slammed the door in my face before I could even ask.” 

Remus closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that told the boy his resolve was wearing thin. “And you can’t take Lily and James?” 

“I’m not being the fucking third wheel again,” Sirius scoffed, nose scrunched up as memories flashed through his mind. “Not after New Years. I don’t think I’ll ever get my innocence back.” 

Remus snorted. “Like you ever had it in the first place.” 

Sirius waved him off, eyes wide and hopeful as he flashed his friend a grin. “So you’ll come with?” 

“I–” 

“Brilliant, see you at six, Moony!” 

“I didn’t even say yes yet!” Remus called out after him but the boy was already running towards the common room door, not giving the boy a chance to even wiggle his way out of whatever Sirius had been begging him to attend. 

And maybe that was his mistake. He never asked Sirius what this event was, mostly because it was usually easier to not be an accomplice in his crimes—even by knowledge. But that was clearly the regrettable choice when Sirius dragged him away from the school, using the map to guide them through the secret passages until they were beyond the wards before apparating to merlin-knows-where. 

Because of fucking course Sirius Black would drag him to a punk rock grunge bar in a part of London he wasn’t familiar with.

“Pads,” he murmured in a warning voice, hands tucked into the pocket on his jacket as he followed his friend towards the door. 

“Just chill, Moony,” Sirius called out as the sound of music thumped beyond the closed doors. “Who knows, maybe you’ll have fun.” 

“In a muggle bar?” 

Sirius turned to look at him over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Who said it was a muggle bar?”

Remus held back his own wince the second the atmosphere of the bar hit him: the loud music, the throng of dancing bodies, the smell of alcohol and sweat and the taste of tobacco and marijuana thick in the clouded air. 

No wonder the little prick ran out before Remus could interrogate him on where they were going. 

To his credit, Sirius had stuck to his side for a total twenty minutes before the boy disappeared into the crowd of dancing partygoers, drink in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. Remus could only laugh and shake his head as he watched his friend go. 

He knew there was nothing stopping him from walking out the pub and heading back. Despite his dramatics, Sirius would understand and wouldn’t hold it against him. But he knew the kind of mood his friend was in, and nine times out of ten, Remus would be needed to intervene before Sirius got his ass kicked. 

Might as well sit around until that moment inevitably came. 

He had tucked himself at the back of the pub where the bar was situated, taking a stool at the very end of the bar where he could sip on his drink and observe. He recognised most of the songs considering Sirius had played them in the dorm more times than he could remember, and he couldn’t deny he enjoyed some of them. But it was difficult to fit in when everybody there was in various pieces of leather clothing, chunky boots and more pieces of jewellry than he could ever imagine.

It was a pub full of Sirius Black’s and that thought was concerning enough for him to order another drink soon after.

He was fiddling with a napkin when a body slid between his stool and the one next to him, arms pressed against the sticky counter and the scent of vanilla overbearing his senses from the smell of the pub. It felt almost instinctive to keep his eyes on the napkin, watching the way the paper shredded with each piece he ripped off until he had a small pile lying beside his glass. It felt instinctive to keep his eyes anywhere but on the pair of eyes he could feel burning into his side. 

“You look like you’ve just been dropped here after your shift at the library.”

But something about the voice was magnetic and he couldn’t help himself from turning his head to peek at you through the mess of brown curls on his head and—fuck, it felt like someone had hit him right in the centre of his chest.

Remus had met many attractive people in his life. Pretty ones and handsome ones and gorgeous ones and ones that took your breath. Everyone had a side of beauty in them that could make them shine and stand out in a crowd, but fuck had he ever seen someone like you. 

His mind went completely blank when he looked at you, almost as though his brain was trying to process the fact you existed and were not just a perfect figment of his imagination. Your skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat, your hair was messy and wild from dancing and the makeup around your eyes looked a little more smudged than usual—but it was fucking mesmirising and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away.  

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—to you. Hell, even just to say hello but the boy found himself speechless as he openly gaped at you. 

“It’s cute though,” you reassured him, painted lips curving up in a smirk and it took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from them. “Hot librarian is really in these days.” 

“I’m not a librarian!” he blurted out, his cheeks instantly heating up when he realised how loud he had him.

But you laughed and the embarrassment swelling in his chest eased up a little at the sound. 

“Of course not, silly,” you said with an amused tone in your voice. “You’re missing the glasses.” 

Remus could only let out a shaky breath, hand clenching around his glass a little too hard that he was honestly surprised it didn’t shatter in his hold but he couldn’t quite find the words to reply just yet. 

“So, how did you find yourself dragged out here?” you asked, seeming to take it upon yourself to continue the conversation even when the bartender dropped your drink in front of you. But you remained in your spot, tucked between the stools as you took a leisurely sip from the bottle you had just ordered. “Got a girlfriend who dragged you out?” 

His eyes widened a little. “No!” 

“No?” you questioned, not even bothering to bite back your smile. “Boyfriend then?” 

“No, no, I–” Remus paused for a moment, clearing his throat as he tried to string together a coherent sentence. “I came with my friend, Sirius. He didn’t have anyone to go with so…I came.”

You raised your brows. “Do I get to know your name or do I have to keep referring to you as Sirius’ cute friend?”

Remus only hoped the lights of the pub didn’t pick up on his burning cheeks, or the way the tips of his ears matched his blush. “I, uh, Remus. My name is Remus.” 

“Well, Remus, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said as you introduced yourself, extending your hand to the boy. You watched the way his eyes dropped to your hand, eyeing it carefully and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I promise I don’t bite.” 

His eyes widened. “No, I–” 

 “Unless you want me to,” you added and watched in delight the way his lips parted in surprise. 

Remus was different from every other witch and wizard in this establishment. From the tattered jeans and knitted sweater he wore to the worn trainers and dishevelled hair, he stood out like a sore thumb in a place like this. And yet, you loved it. 

You loved it when you spotted him from across the pub. You loved it when you pushed your way through the crowd and made your way to the bar to get closer to him. You loved it when you could see the way his eyes fought to not glance over as you settled beside him. 

You fucking loved how flustered he got around you. It wasn’t the first time you made a man feel that way and you doubt it would be the last, but there was something different—something more satisfying—when it came to Remus.

“I mean, I just—” he gulped a little when you stepped closer to him, his body seeming to have a mind of its own as his legs parted to accommodate you standing between them. “Yeah…” 

“Yeah? You’d like that?” you teased, head tilted to the side as you raised a hand to his face. Your finger traced down the line of his jaw, watching the way it clenched under your touch before he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe I can add to those wicked scars you have.” 

His heart was thundering in his chest. “Wicked?” 

“Wicked hot,” you murmured absentmindedly as you traced along the scars slashed across his face. They weren’t obvious, the pale marks almost invisible against his skin in the pub lighting but you noticed them the second you stepped between his legs. And fuck, you loved the way they looked. 

“T-Thanks,” he stuttered out, hooded eyes focused on how close you were to him. How fucking easy it would be for him to just lean down and—

“Do I make you nervous, Remus?” you asked innocently. 

His eyes snapped back up to meet yours, a small crease forming between his brows. “I–no, why would you think that?”

“You’re really hot and you’re breathing funny,” you told him, though the gleam in your eyes told him this was beyond concern. You knew you made him nervous and he knew you loved. Fuck, he loved it. You were the kind of girl people would tell him to run for the hills if he ever came across you, but he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay right where he was even if it was his own ruination. 

“Crowds make me nervous,” he blurted out, smart enough to know you were teasing him but not quite brave enough to admit it. It seems like the Gryffindor within him couldn’t compete with the pretty girl standing between his legs.

Your smile made his breath catch in his throat. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he rasped as your hand fell to his chest, feeling his pounding heart beneath your palm before your hand slid down to intertwine with his.

“You wanna go somewhere a little more quiet?” 

And before he could even process the question, the words left his lips.

“Lead the way.” 

His drink was left abandoned on the bar counter as he let you pull him through the crowd of dancing witches and wizards. His eyes never strayed away from you, his attention completely locked on you as you led him down a dimly lit corridor before you reached a fire exit door and quickly pushed it open, leading him outside before the door closed behind you. 

He glanced around, picking up on the small space as the light chill brushed against his heated cheeks. It seemed like it was a back alley, blocked off from the main street. The space was decorated with some old, battered sofas and chairs but there was an odd sense of comradery in the air.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” he asked, taking a few steps deeper into the back alley. 

“Legally? No,” you stated simply, grinning at the way his head swivelled around to meet your gaze. “But that’s why it’s so fun.” 

“You’re confident we won’t get caught?” 

“Also no.” 

Remus huffed out a little laugh. It was almost like you were reading out the marauders motto and he found his chest tightening a little at the idea. 

He watched as you sauntered across the space, falling back onto one of the cracked leather sofas and grinned up at him. You patted the spot next to you, eyebrows raising a little in your offer and he couldn’t find it within himself to deny you. 

Remus settled into the spot next to you, his thigh pressed against your thigh and his shoulder pressed against your shoulder. He could feel his body tensing at the touch, his hands laying on his lap in tight fists as he cleared his throat a little to distract him from the way his stomach twisted in delight at the lack of space between you. 

“Relax, Remus,” you spoke softly, arm stretching out along the back of the sofa as your hand rested on his shoulder.

“You got something to help me relax?” he joked, though it came off a little flat with his shaky voice but you laughed regardless.

“Is that all you need to let me see the real Remus?” you questioned, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. 

His eyes caught the movement, body working on autopilot when his brain went blank with an array of thoughts that made him want to squirm in his seat. “Maybe so.”

“You should’ve told me earlier,” you grinned at him, watching as his eyes went comically wide as you reached into your bra, only to pull out a joint a few seconds later. “Got a light?” 

“Uh, no,” he murmured as he watched you place the joint between your lips. You raised your brows and Remus leaned forwards slightly, whispering a charm under his breath until the end of the joint lit up in a soft orange.

“Guess the nerd aesthetic isn’t for show,” you teased, taking a deep inhale before softly blowing out the smoke. “Good to see you got the looks and the brains, Remus.” 

But the boy could barely reply, just simply content to lay his head back on the back of the sofa and watch you. The way your body was twisted, turned towards him with your legs tucked underneath you. The way your painted lips wrapped around the joint, staining the rolling paper with the colour of your lipstick but it drove him even more mad to see the marks. Even the way your hair fell across your face, a mind of his own as the light breeze softly grazed your skin, goosebumps raised on your arms but you only grinned when he offered to charm a heating spell over you.

He was completely and utterly enamoured about you, and he couldn’t bring himself to even care or bother hiding it.

“You think you can handle a hit, big boy?” you asked, a dangerous look on your face that told Remus you could’ve asked him anything and he would’ve agreed to it. 

He nodded his head, eyes dipping down to your lipstick-stained joint before he lifted his hand to take it from you, but you acted quicker than the werewolf. 

Before he could even process it, you had swung your legs over him and planted yourself on his lap. Your smile widened when you saw the way his cheeks flushed, his hands instantly dropping to your waist and holding onto you, almost like he was scared you were going to jump off his lap. 

“Be a good boy f’me, okay?” you murmured before bringing the joint to your lips, taking a deep inhale and keeping the smoke in your mouth. 

Your eyes never looked away from him as you gripped his chin, watching his lips part just enough for you to lean down and slowly blow the smoke into his mouth. 

The boy beneath you let out a soft groan, your lips brushing against his and his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you a little closer. 

“Keep it there,” you ordered him softly, nose nudging against his as you watched his face. As you watched the way his eyes started to water slightly and his lips trembled and only then did you whisper again. “Let it out.”

His breaths were a little shaky as he stared up at you, eyes a little hooded and hazy as your hand still gripped his chin. You murmured a soft praise under your breath, thumb fanning over his pouty lips but it wasn’t enough. 

“Please,” he let out, his voice low and guttural and fuck, you couldn’t lie at the way your stomach clenched a little at the sound. 

“Such a gentleman, Remus,” you murmured before you threw the joint somewhere behind you on the ground, both hands grabbing his face before you pressed your lips against his. 

The boy shamelessly moaned against your lips, squeezing your hips as his lips began to move against yours. It was slow and lazy at first, no rush as your tongue teased him before you deepened the kiss. And then the pace started picking up and your hands were running up and down his chest, along his neck and through his hair and Remus felt like he was going to fucking explode. 

The way your fingers tangled in his messy brown hair, tugging his head to the side before your head dipped down to kiss along the expanse of his neck and jaw, nibbling on the skin softly just to hear the way he whimpered into your ear when your teeth bit down on the spot just below his ear. 

But no matter how passionately you kissed him and no matter how much he moaned, his hands never swayed away your hips. They stayed firmly planted at your sides, squeezing whenever you did anything that made his head fucking spin but they never moved. 

He didn’t want to push your boundaries or cross a line you didn’t want. The boy could barely comprehend the super hot witch grinding against his lap and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe, he wasn’t about to ruin it with wandering hands. 

But then you pulled away, lips red and swollen, and gave him a look that made his jeans feel tight around his cock. 

“Do you want to fuck or not?” you asked bluntly, eyes darkened by desire and lust for the werewolf beneath you. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” he blurted out, cheeks tinted pink by his confession but it was the least of his problem when a smirk split across your face. 

“Then touch me like you mean it,” you said as you slid your hands over his, guiding them along your sides and up your stomach until both hands rested over your tits. “Get it?” 

“Got it,” he confirmed with a nod of his head, hooded eyes stuck on your chest as he gave your tits an experimental squeeze. 

“C’mon, Remus,” you murmured as you leaned down to kiss along his jaw and towards his ear, lips brushing against him as your warm breath fanned over his skin. “Show me your wild side.”

Remus couldn’t get enough of you from that point on. Maybe it was the liquid courage. Maybe it was the weed that finally relaxed him. Or maybe it was that Gryffindor courage that finally made him get his head out of his ass and take what he wanted. 

Because he wanted you. Fuck, he wanted you badly. He wanted you the second he first laid his eyes on you and now here you were, sitting on his lap and practically ordering him to touch you, and he honestly thought he was seconds away from waking up from the best dream in his life but this was real. 

You were real. 

And Merlin, did Remus want to bask in every fucking moment of attention you gave him.

“Fuck,” you whispered between kisses, your fingers tugging the fabric of his knitted sweater over his head. “You taste like chocolate.” 

He lifted his hands, letting you chuck the sweater to the side before his hands were all over you again. The way he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer to him as your head dipped down to press kisses along his scars. The way his hands grabbed your ass, groaning at the way your jeans fitted you because it was just another thing added to your list of many perfections. 

“Are you particularly attached to this top?” he asked breathlessly, fingers digging into your thighs as he impatiently tugged on the denim fabric. 

Your hands moved to the button of your jeans, your belt already long gone and your jeans soon following. “Not really—” 

You hadn’t even finished talking before the sound of fabric ripping echoed against the brick walls of the back alley, your top now in shred and abandoned to the side before Remus’ face was nuzzled between your tits, his hands groping any inch of skin his lips couldn’t kiss. 

“Fucking knew it,” you moaned as your head fell back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to leave pretty purple marks along the swells of your tits. “Wild side.” 

“Just wanna make you feel good,” he muttered as a pathetic defence, but defending his honour was the last thing on his mind when he could feel the fabric of your soaked panties pressed against the bulge of his jeans. 

Remus whined when you pulled away, even if it was for a short few moments to shed the remainder of the pieces of clothing keeping you away from each other. But then you were grabbing his face once again, fingers pressing into his cheeks as he stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” 

He nodded. 

“You gonna make me feel good?” 

He nodded again. 

“Good,” you murmured before kissing him senseless, letting your moans be muffled by his lips against yours as you reached down to stroke his cock. He whined and bucked against your touch, letting out a pathetic whimper when you squeezed his tip before you slowly sunk down on him, eyes falling shut and curse words leaving your parted lips. 

“Shit,” he hissed, squeezing your hips as he watched himself disappear inside you. “You feel…so fucking good, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Remus,” you breathed out, nails digging into his shoulders but he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the sting of pain. Not when you were squeezing around his cock, making the werewolf whine in response. “That’s it, baby, let me hear it.”

The idea of silencing charms and spells were the last thing on either of your minds. It wouldn’t take long to do, maybe less than thirty seconds. But you would be lying if he didn’t fucking love the idea that anybody could walk through that fire door and catch you both. That anybody could come out here and see the flustered, needy boy beneath you. That anybody could see the way he begged for your touch, your kisses, your filthy words whispered in his ear.

“Remus,” you moaned, your words seeming to get choked up in your throat as you bounced up and down on his cock, as you listened to the way he whined about how good you felt. “Fuck, that’s it, baby, just like that.” 

He could feel the way you were clenching around him. He could see the way your eyes were fluttering shut, breathless remarks made as you tried to catch your breath but he knew you were struggling. Your legs starting to shake and your nails digging further into skin and you were close, so fucking close but you just—” 

“Shit!”

You could barely comprehend the wizard below you as he lifted you, his hips bucking up into you at a relentless speed that made it difficult to fight the orgasm washing over you. You whined as he kept going, kept fucking you as stars started to dance in your vision and your muscles tensed but he never stopped. Never stopped fucking you until you were whining his name. 

Your hands laid on his chest, your own lungs heaving for air as you rolled your hips against his, biting back the whimpers of pleasure that wanted to escape. “You didn’t—”

“Wanted to make you feel good,” he whispered as he kissed you, soft and chaste kisses that were pressed along your neck and chest as he continued to speak. “Wanna see you come again. You look so pretty when you come.” 

“Fuck,” you murmured as his hands on your hips started to move you on his cock again. “Remus, I can’t—”

“Shhh, relax,” he whispered between kisses. “Let me make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” 

And you didn’t have it within you to argue when he shifted you with unreasonably ease, picking you up like you weighed nothing until your back was pressed against the tattered leather sofa and he was crawling above you, kissing up your stomach and between your tits before he met your lips once again. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, ankles locked behind his back as he slowly guided his cock back inside you with a guttural groan, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he slowly began to thrust. 

“Right there, baby, right there,” the words left your lips in breathless praises, seeming to spur the boy on as he gripped your hips, his tempo speeding up shit. “Shit, yes!” 

“Fuck,” Remus whined, his cock hard and desperate for release. He didn’t know how much longer he could last inside you, last with your nails raking down his back and face scrunched up as your second orgasm was so close. He couldn’t help himself as a hand disappeared between your bodies, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit and watching as your lips parted in a silent scream as you came, him following you seconds after. 

It took you a few minutes to ground yourself. To catch your breath and open your eyes, taking in your surroundings before you glanced down at the boy laying on your chest, his arms wrapped around you and soft kisses pressed on your skin that made your heart swell. 

“Did you really throw your joint on the floor?” 

The question caught you off guard before you laughed, your fingers running through his hair before he lifted his head up to look at you. “Want another hit?” 

“No, I just—” Remus flashed you a sheepish smile. “I felt bad, don’t want you to waste it.” 

“You’re quite adorable, aren’t you?” you commented casually, and despite the fact this boy had just given you two of the best orgasms of your life, he still had the audacity to blush at the simple compliment. 

“Thank you,” he murmured before pausing. “I think.”

“It was a compliment, Remus,” you hummed as you pushed some of his hair away from his face, eyes scanning the small details you hadn’t noticed before. The small scars you couldn’t see unless you were up close, or the freckles sprinkled along the bridge of his nose or apples of his cheeks. “More people oughta tell you how pretty you are.” 

He let out a slightly nervous laugh. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty before.” 

“Tragic,” you muttered before smiling at him. “I guess I gotta change that.” 

His mood seemed to perk up a little. “You mean like…you’d wanna do this again?” 

“You don’t?” you teased.

“No, I do!” he blurted out before clearing his throat. “I-I would love to see you again.” 

“Good, because I wanna see how many other pretty ways I can make you blush, baby.”

And fuck, there were many ways a girl as pretty as you could make Remus Lupin blush.

.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hi! I’m wondering if you would be willing to write a fic where the snobby wife of Emmett or Lenny wants to have a surrogate with an advanced method (which he agreed to because he’s faithful to his wife), instead of having a baby of their own because the wife didn’t want to ruin their body. While they’re searching for the candidate, they found Y/N and the wife didn’t want her as the surrogate, but he doesn’t give a damn and wants her to be the surrogate the traditional way which he didn’t care if it ruins his marriage.

Summary: The neighbor who plays games through the window happens to be a more than willing candidate to solve one of Lenny’s many marriage problems. Warnings: age gap (reader is 20), breeding kink, surrogacy, cheating (kinda), surrogacy, a fucked marriage, slight lactation kink mentioned

Thank you for the request! This is my first Lenny fic, hope you enjoy ❤️

The Millers had been married for nearly two years, Lenny’s wife Marsha was a force to be reckoned with. She owned her own catering business and after a year or two it took off and she began to bring in money, not being so kind to the potential customers that couldn’t afford her “top tier” service.

Sitting in the kitchen Lenny was enjoying his morning coffee (black of course), and ignoring the screeching sound of Marsha complaining about every thing under the sun, as if she didn’t always get her way.

Lenny swore that if breathed even remotely in her vicinity, she would get pissed off. There had been talks of a baby but with Marsha being infertile, the only option on the table was surrogacy.

Lenny already had a contender in mind, someone he’s had his eyes on for quite some time.

Ending the phone call she was on, she turned to her husband with curious look on her face. Funny how her mood changes as soon as she wants something from him.

“Did you find anyone yet dear? I haven’t had much luck.” Matter of fact he did, but whether or not she was going to agree was a different conversation that he could already presume the answer.

“Well what about Y/N? She’s young and in her twenties. She’d be great” His wife glanced at him with an incredulous look of disgust.

“The twenty year old across the street? Absolutely not, she’s a stuck up prissy little whore. Always walking around in those horrendous shorts and crop tops. I want our child to be sophisticated and wise not a bimbo Lenny. Find someone else.” His wife had never taken the time to get to know you the way he did. Rolling his eyes, he glanced across the street, seeing you sprawled out in the grass laying on your stomach reading a book on this hot summer day.

Lenny had wanted you for a long time now. There had been a continuation of stolen glances, innocent flirtatious banter. 

Unbenknownst to his wife, he spent an endless amount of time staring out the window, watching you put on a show for him trying on different lingerie, playing with your breasts and touching yourself. 

You were a delicacy he craved to indulge in.

Hearing the car door slam, he waited for his wife to be out of sight before walking over to your property, his tall silhouette blocking the sun and forming a shadow of your reading.

Glancing up, you lowered your sunglasses and purposefully propped your ass up. A mischievous smile smearing across your face.

“Mr. Miller! Can I assist you with something? ” You batted your eyelashes playfully before closing the engorging old novel. He took note you were reading the classical “The Great Gatsby.” He was always a fan of seeing young readers indulging in works of early literature.

“Actually you can, may we go inside and have a chat?” Giggling and smirking, you nodded for him to follow you into the house, offering him a drink in the process and insisting that he take a seat.

A part of you was curious what this handsome, impeccably clean man could want from you, was it sex? An affair? Maybe he was leaving his wife. 

“So what do I owe the pleasure Mr. Miller?” He folded his leg on top of the other, trying to hide the fact you didn’t call him Lenny or Leonard turned him on immensely. He tried not to stare at your ass as you reached for a glass on the top shelf of your kitchen, but your cheeks were nearly falling out at this point. Fuck how he’s tried to be a good husband, but the way Marsha has been lately, the caring aspect of his marriage was dwindling into nothing.

“Allow me to start of by saying you have a beautiful place. My wife actually, she wants to have a baby but she’s infertile. I was wondering if you’d want to do the honors? I know it’s a lot to ask, a lot to put your body through but-Oh!” His words diminished when you set the glass of water down and kicked apart his legs, placing your knee firmly against his growing shaft causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“You want to put a baby in me? Is that it?” His crystal blue eyes seemed to wander to your cleavage that was sitting blatantly in front of his face. Tipping his chin up, demanding his eye contact you grazed your hand over his upper arm, gripping at the muscular tone of his bicep instead sending chills down his spine as he withheld a moan.

“Eyes are up here sweetheart…” His heart palpitated in his chest, arousal building as his brain went haywire from the alluring lock of yours eyes. Scanning and searching the older man with interest and  before taking his hand and settling it on the cushion of your boob.

“Ye-yes but not, not the injection way. I want to fuck you, I’ve been wanting to fuck you. We may have to do it a few times just to- to make sure it takes.” He gulped desperately, not even noticing the massaging movement of his hand on your breast.

Pulling away with a playful grin, you passed him his glass of water and returned to the sink when you noticed his wife’s car pull back into the driveway.

“How are you going to convince your wife? I know she hates me.”

Lenny chugged his glass, wiping at the sweat building at the nape of his neck, what he wouldn’t do to take you here, right over this god damn table. Standing from his seat, he held a firm stance and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“I can be very persuasive. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t play with that pretty little pussy until I’m here, got it?” You nodded playfully at his demand and motioned for him to go.

Walking back to his house, Marsha was standing in the doorway leaning on the frame with fury in her eyes, but Lenny wasn’t having any if it.

Shoving past his wife, she began yelling obscenities, demanding to know why he was in your fucking house after she made it perfectly clear you weren’t an option.

He put her complaints to a hault, turning around and pointing his finger directly in her face.

“I’ve been more than willing to give you what you want but it’s about time that I get what I want. Don’t act like I don’t know about the emails with Steven or that you’ve been racking up debt with my credit cards. Let’s not forget I work for the god damn CIA, I’m not a fool like you make me out to be I think it’s only fair sweetheart. I will be fucking her, and you will agree or you won’t be getting a fucking baby. Not from me.” She stood there mouth agape left speechless. If she thought she had an upper hand she was sadly mistaken. Before she could protest Lenny simply raised an eyebrow before heading back across the street.

He’d taken his wife’s shit for far too long and it ends here regardless of possibly jeopardizing his marriage.

Bursting through the door with a pit of fire in his stomach, when he heard the shower running he ran up the stairs, patience non existent.

Ripping open the shower curtain, his sapphire eyes settled on your soapy body, causing you to scream from the sudden surprise. Before you had a chance to say anything he was stepping to the shower, drenching his close while he closed the distance and pressed your wet body against the wall, locking his lips with yours instantly taking your breath away while embracing the hot water drenching him.

He smelt of teakwood and mint, so alluring and consuming as your hands tangled in the strands of his once well combed hair, nails dragging and pushing his lips in closer, tongues intertwining and swirling in profound desire lust.

“I’m glad you made it to me, gonna breed me hm? Knock me up with your baby.” 

“Going til fill you to the brim over and over again til that tummy is plump.”

Dropping to your knees and undoing his zipper, you released his cock, eyes going wide with excitement when the eager member popped out, merely slapping against his abdomen.

Lenny knew he was big but he was mature and grateful about it and all he could think about was stretching that tight little pussy.

Gripping the shaft, your hand moved swiftly and slowly around the girth of his cock, massaging the sensitive skin before your lips enveloped the head os his cock.

An exasperated gasp escaped Lenny’s lips at the sudden warmth and slippery slope of your hallowed cheeks.

You moaned around his length, staring up at him with lustful eyes from your kneeling position. 

“Such a dirty girl.” He moved the strands of hair from the front of your face, locking the laces inbetween his digits watching you swallow his length fully, mascara flowing messily down your cheeks.

You were such a sight for sore eyes, he could feel his heart palpitate in his chest seeing you in such a vulnerable position bobbing your head up and down. If he stayed like this he wouldn’t last very long.

Lifting you up, he carried you into the bedroom, laying you down before aligning his cock with your dripping cunt, sliding inside of your tight walls effortlessly.

The sight of your flawless, young, nude body on didplay for him so up close and personal, sent a thrill up his spine, peaking his arousal.

Your nipples glowed in the sunlight, back arching in desperation from the stretch of him, your walls clenching to his every inch.

“You are indisputably insatiable.” He breathed out as your fingers trailed down his chest before pulling down by his neck into a fruitful kiss.

He pumped in and out of you relatively slowly, wanting to relish in the moment, focusing on your warmth squeezing his shaft, aching purely for him.

The feeling of disbelief that this was actually happening still fluttering around your mind as he stuffed you.

“Fuck me Lenny. I mean really fuck me.” He scanned your needing eyes, raising an eyebrow questioning whether or not your body could handle it.

“Don’t hold back, I need you to consume me, own me, right…now.”

Placing his hands on your thighs, he pulled your body down slamming you down onto his cock, bottoming out in your alluring sex.

“Oh! Fuck!” You bit down on your bottom lip from the feeling of being so full, making direct eye contact with his charismatic blue eyes as he fucked you relentlessly. Your boobs bouncing up and down ferociously fast with each power driven thrust.

“Can’t wait to see that tummy full with my baby, can’t wait to fuck you when your boobs are leaking milk and you’re begging to be fucked more than you are now. Fuck..” Beads of sweat formed at his temple, hair falling in front of his face while his eyes darkened, the animalistic sexual instincts kicking in. Your hands grasped at his shoulder, grinding down against his bush needing more and more, your pussy throbbing from the constant brushing of his cock against your clit. He was an experienced man and it was quite clear he knew how to pleasure a woman, turning you on even more.

“Fuck, fuck Lenny…wanna- wanna feel your seed- wanna-need to-“ Your words faltered as you crumbled beneath him, his eyes never leaving yours, noting the visible sexual distress you were in.

The sound of your desperate voice moaning his name making him pulsate inside you, he was on the edge, so close to cumming but he was a man of honor and determined to get you off first.

Lifting your legs, he placed your ankles around his shoulders, rutting into you, balls slapping against the bare of your skin.

His cock smacked against your cervix with each movement in this position. You wouldn’t last long, especially with his intimidating yet attractive stare. A man had never been so focused on you and your pleasure during sex until now.

“Want my baby in you? Want to feel my cum drenching that pretty pussy, hm?” Your lips parted, mouth falling open when your body convulsed, back arching as your orgasm approached very sneakily.

“Yes! Yes! Give me what your wife can’t fucking have…fuck, I’m going to fucking cum Lenny I’m..” Your breaths became staggered, moans becoming louder as your ankles locked behind his neck, toes curling at the anticipating high.

“Go on darling, cum for me, cum on my cock while I put a baby in you. Show me how much you needed me.” Within seconds your walls came tumbling down, your core shaking from the intensity of the euphoric, palpable orgasm.

Lenny watched as you come undone beneath him, and with one last detrimental thrust, you felt his cock pulsating and the pool of his seed coating your inner walls, rushing straight to your uterus.

He fell down on the bed beside you as you both tried to steady your breathing.

Glancing over at one another in a heated craze, he kissed you once more with profound passion.

“Water break?” You gulped, unsure if your overstimulated cunt could take it. Within twenty minutes you were right back at it.

The following weeks he continued to fuck you, wanting to ensure the chance of pregnancy to just get his wife to shut the fuck up about having a baby. She didn’t have to like who it was with, she should have been grateful that he would even give her what she wanted most, that you would help even though you both knew this was a selfish arrangement but then again, Marsha was the quern of selfishness.

Within a month you’d notice your period never showed. After taking three tests, you were stunned to read the results. 

Changing into an outfit you knew would piss his wife off, you skipped across the street with the tests in hand.

Knocking at the door with a wide grin on your face, to your surprise Marsha answered her smile turning into a deceitful frown when she saw the positive pregnancy sticks in your hand.

“Who’s at the door I’m expecting-“ Lenny’s words came to a hault when he witnessed the scene, his wife’s head turning back to face him in anger and resentment but he didn’t feel the least bit sorry, instead wanting Marsha to feel how she often made him feel, like shit.

“Well you’ve got what you wanted didn’t you? Go on thank Y/N for being such a kind service.” Through gritted teeth and possibly the fakest smile you’d ever seen she thanked you unwillingly kindly for being a such a big help. Forever knowing her husband fucked the neighbor girl, and that would not be the last time that her husband would be over there, regardless of the original arrangement.

[satinsummer]

Chapter 1: Likewise

Summary: The first time you met Sam you knew you had to have her but how would you get her?

Culinary is your major but sports media is your side quest that turned you into a dual degree seeking mf! ;)

Chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/satinsummer/761133841884889088/chapter-2-movie-night?source=share

WARNING: Suggestive Language, Drug Use (Smoking Weed) 18+ No men or minors pls and thanks!

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Nobody POV

It all started at Y/BF/N's soccer game, after a long day of running around a hot kitchen with no break, sitting on the cold metal bleachers was the only thing that brought Y/N some sort of solace that fated night.

Sitting all the way at the top wasn't the best choice with the way her legs and feet were aching but it was tradition, especially since this was not only the first game of the season but this was Y/BF/N's first senior game and Y/N wouldn't miss it for the world! As she's scanning the crowd and just taking everything in Y/N noticed the "Core 4" + Anika as Chad so happily calls them making their way through the packed area.

Tara, Mindy, Anika and some mystery lady Y/N has never met stop and start talking to Quinn who just so happened to know few players on the team. Chad just continued to climb the bleachers until he reached Y/N.

"Yoo Y/N" Chad says with a big ass smile on his face, arms stretched out to hug her. "Hey Chad" Y/N says smiling but not moving an inch. "Sorry I realllyyyy don't feel like standing up unless I absolutely HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE but to" She stated now eyeing the mystery lady following behind Tara while they continued their ascend up the bleachers having now finished the conversation with Quinn.

Before Y/N or Chad get to say anything else Tara is barreling past him and pulling Y/N into a hug. "Where have you been all day, under a fucking rock??My girlfriend has not stopped talking about how sad she is because she didn't think you'd make it. I was honestly starting to think she loved you more than me and so I had to show her who she belo-" "OKAY THATS ENOUGH" Slapping a hand over Tara's mouth be she gets too carried away. "Anyway I was afraid of not making it because dinner service was a shit show and- Who's She?"

Y/N had finally stood up and looked behind Tara after pulling back from the embrace to shoot Mindy and Anika a small wave and smile but instead she was met with the most gorgeous set of chocolate colored eyes she'd ever seen. It felt like her the entire world stopped.

She stood there just staring back at her, eyes dark and brooding scanning over your face as Y/N did hers. Her hair was framing her face perfectly, her eyebrows were knit in concentration or maybe it was confusion either way Y/N just wanted to reach out and soothe it over with her thumb but she fought against it.

"Keep staring and I'll make sure I'm the last thing you see" And that's all it takes to knock Y/N out of whatever spell she was under while looking at mystery lady. "SAM! You cant threaten to kill everyone that looks at you, especially not my girlfriends best friend. Y/N she didn't mean that. Right Sam?" Tara said ending her sentence with an elbow to Sam's side. "Yeah, Right" she grumbled rolling her eyes at Tara before sitting down.

A bit after you and mystery lady's SAM's moment, everyone gets settled to watch the game as it begins. "So Sam, is this your first time at a soccer game?" Y/N asks, looking over at sam who was already looking at her. "Yeah" Sam replies never taking her eyes off of Y/N. "Want me to explain it? Help you under a bit better?" Y/N offers. "Nope" and with that Sam turns her back around to the game and doesn't say another word. That is until the game is over and Y/BF/N is running to Y/N as she pushes her way on to the field to greet Y/BF/N.

Y/BF/N played one of her best games EVER tonight, she came away with 2 goals-2 assist and 3 steals. She plays hard so when her and Y/N finally meet in the middle she's throwing her body on Y/N like a kid seeing their mom after the first day of school. She's overjoyed to have won and to know her best friend, her girlfriend and their friends were there to have witnessed it. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Y/B/NN. You were a goddamn storm out there!" Y/N shouts while rocking back and forth still embracing Y/BF/N. As the two girls pull back from each other and start doing their handshake, the rest of the group has made their was down to the field and over to them.

Tara pulls Y/BF/N into a big ass hug that ends in a kiss Sam would've paid money not to see. The rest of the group just standing there awkwardly talking amongst themselves as it continues.

"How's the chef been? You ran off to Jersey for the summer and have been MIA since you came back" Mindy points out and just like that all eyes are back on Y/N. "She didn't run off" Y/BF/N interjects after finally pulling away, jersey was still a sore topic for the two but at least Y/N could count on Y/BF/N not to force conversations about it.

As Y/BF/N headed off to the locker rooms to shower and get changed, with Tara following close behind Y/N seen this an opportunity to answer Mindy's first question. "Anyway, the chef is great, I'm in my final year so it's more stressful now than it has ever been but the world deserves to taste me so I'm dedicated to perfecting that." "Taste...you?" Mindy snickers a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, taste me and I know your gutter mind ass is taking it there so I won't divulge but I will extend you an offer to stop by the kitchen and learn somethings" Y/N states matter of factly looking straight into Mindy's eyes and suddenly she's the one acting all coy and bashful. "Damn, Y/N. You go MIA and come back trying to be Miss.TakeMyBitch" Anika says feigning betrayal. Laughter erupts between all of them and suddenly Y/BF/N and Tara are making their way back to the group. Looking a little "freshly fucked" might Mindy add but she saves them the embarrassment for now.

As everyone is walking through the parking lot and getting into their respective vehicles. Y/N can't help but let her mind wonder and eyes wander over to the brown eyed goddess she had met earlier. "You're staring again" Sam says "Can't Help it" Y/N replies. This makes Sam stop dead in her tracks as Y/N kept walking trying to keep her facade of being smooth as fuck under control. "Come on Sam, We are riding in Y/N's Car" She hears as is grabbing her arm and leading the way.

"Damn Y/N/N, when can I get a ride in that" Chad Says while looking at her car. She had recently purchased an Inifinti Q50S, it was painted titanium grey with an all black interior to match her rims. "Must be nice to have mommy and daddy get you everything" Sam sneered to no one in particular but Y/N heard it. " I don't have a mommy and daddy to do anything for me. This is NIL money, baby" Y/N retorted. "NIL?" Sam questions.

"Name, Image, Likeness." You, Y/B/N and Chad all say in unison. "Y/N is the best sports media journalist Blackmore has ever seen. She built media platform and gave the athletes here a voice" Chad Explains. Truth be told Y/N was glad nobody double back about the "no mommy daddy" comment because she didn't have the mental or emotional capacity for that tonight. "Alright, can we go now? I just played my ass off, I'm hungry and a little horny" Y/BF/N groans closing the car door as her and Tara climb in the backseat. "Guess that means you're riding shotgun Sammy" You tease. " Call me that again and I-" "Yeah, Yeah, save the threat. We both know Tara won't let you" Effectively cutting Sam off and starting her car.

Sam refused to admit but Y/N was actually pretty decent and before she knew it her mind was clouded with thoughts of Y/N. The way she would easily slip in and out of traffic, never breaking too hard or go too fast for Sam or the other two sucking face in the back to feel unsafe. Sam found herself now being the one to stare at the girl and my god was she glad Y/N was focused on the road. Under the glow of the city lights and the ones slightly illuminating the inside of the car Sam got lost in her side profile, with Y/N hair now pulled back she had a chance to examine the other features she may have missed earlier like the one dimple Y/n on her right cheek, the small scar above her ear that traveled down to the base of her hairline. The way Y/N's nose was the perfect slope from this angle.

"You're Staring" Y/N says glancing over at Sam when she stops at a red light. All Sam can do is open and close her mouth like a fish having just been caught doing the same thing she threatened Y/N for doing previously. The soft hum of the engine and music fill the rest of the car ride as the girls make their way to the " Carpenter Habitat" as Y/BF/N calls it.

As the car pulls up in front of the apartment building, Tara begins begging Sam to let Y/BF/N sleepover and much to her surprise she gives in not before giving a stern "door open or living room" option with no room for rebuttal. Sam then looks to Y/N as if she was going to say the same to her but Y/N is quick to correct. "I won't be staying, Gonna head back to the kitchen and get prepped for the dinner service happening tomorrow. You kids have fun" Y/N states looking at all three of them while leaning on her car and lighting a joint. "Wanna finish this off before you go up?" Y/N says to Y/BF/N who looks over at Tara for the go-ahead. "Fine, but just one and you better shower again" Tara directs at Y/BF/N. After kissing Tara, Y/BF/N walks over to your car and takes the lit joint from you. Tara and Sam begin to walk inside and up to their shared apartment where they both watch Y/N & Y/BF/N smoke and interact like predators hunting prey.

"You sure you don't wanna stay?" Tara yells down to Y/N after the smoke session has ended and Y/BF/N has made it safely inside and upstairs to her girlfriend. "Yeah, I'm sure. You and Y/BF/N deserve some time together after that game she played" Y/N says with a knowing smile. Y/BF/N needed her "Tara Time" after long days or hard games and who is Y/N to stop that.

Before getting in her car, Y/N spares one last glance to the balcony Tara was just on only to see the older carpenter staring back at her. With a small smile and a wave Y/N bids farewell to Sam "It was nice meeting you tonight..Sammy" "Likewise Y/N" Sam replies softly watching as Y/N slips into her car and disappears in the city traffic.

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AN: this is my first time writing something like this so pls bear w meeeeeeeeeee. if you have any suggestions on how the story line should progress, critiques, etc feel free to lmk!

any ideas on what to name the fic? submit themmmmm

[lunajay33]

New World🪵🍂

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world

•Masterlist•

I just came home from teaching, throwing myself down on the couch, usually Daryl stops by every night for supper and it’s been a tradition we have continued every night since I came back from college

I hated leaving but I needed to get out of this shitty town for a bit, and when I got the opportunity to come back and teach I had to, I couldn’t be apart from Daryl, my best friend, anymore

We’ve been friends since his mom died, my parents told me about his mom and so the next day in school I sat with him at lunch and from then on we have been inseparable, sure he was a hard nut to crack but after that he was the sweetest kindest person I’ve ever met

As I got up to start dinner the door burst open and Daryl and Merle came running in frantic

“Guys what’s wrong?” I asked worried

“Ya need to get yer fine ass movin” Merle laughed

I never liked Merle he was a terrible person and a terrible brother

“We need to go..now” Daryl said grabbing a bag off my counter and throwing a bunch of food in it before taking my hand and dragging me to his truck while Merle got on his bike

“Daryl what’s going on you’re scaring me” my voice trembled as he started up the truck and followed Merle down a back road out of town

“Shits happenin, people are dyin, comin back and eatin everyone, we just gotta get outta here” he said taking my hand in his

“Oh god…..well where are we going”

“Up to that quarry I took ya to last summer, it’ll be far away enough from the city and we got fresh water, don’ worry sunshine I’ll keep ya safe” he said giving me a reassuring squeeze

It was silent for most of the drive all I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears, how could this be happening? What was going to happen now, everything was just falling into place, me and Daryl were just planning to go on a trip to Tennessee too but I guess that’s down the drain

Everything I imagined for my life felt like it was slipping away

“Remember that first day we became friends?” I asked trying to distract myself

“Yeah, ya came and sat with me at lunch, had that green dress on and lil matching bows in yer hair, ya were my first friend, glad ya came up to me that day” he smiled looking at me

“I’m glad too, you were so scared and a blushing mess when I was talking to you, it was adorable then I gave you my cookies and you finally opened up to me” I laughed remembering him snatching my pouch of cookies when I held it out to him

“I wouldn’ cute” he groaned

“Come on Daryl you were adorable you still are” I teased loving how he was getting red

“Stop that” he gentle pushed me making me laugh

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long drive we finally made it to the quarry only to find a few people already camped out but thankfully they allowed I three to stay given Daryl and Merle’s hunting abilities

As daryl and Merle were setting up the tent I went around getting to know everyone and asking them what they knew about everything, it’s been scary everyone’s experience and lucky I had Daryl to get me out safely

As the sun got closer to setting I and the air was cooling I helped Lori clean some fish as she laid it over the fire

“Do you need anymore help?” I asked tired

“No dear you go relax for now we will come get you when everything’s ready” she smiled

I smiled and nodded as I made my way over to the tent, unzipping it I found Daryl and Merle having a heated conversation

I stepped in and took my usual place next to Daryl on his sleeping bag

“What’s going on?”

“There’s lots of folks here I say we jack all there stuff and get outta here ‘fore the sun rises” Merle said smirking

“Come on Merle these are good people we need to stick together and we are in a good place can we just see how things go I don’t wanna leave”

“Damn pussy, I knew we shouldn’ have come and got ya” he groaned as he left the tent

I sighed and turned to look at Daryl and of course he had a defeated look

“It’ll be okay Daryl! I’ve gone around and they seem like a good group to be with everyone carries their own part, we can make it work” I smiled trying to cheer him up

He didn’t say anything which was typical but I was fine with that I knew he wasn’t much of a talker I just hoped my words got through to him a bit

“So…..where am I sleeping tonight” I asked trying to avert the conversation

“Ya can take my sleepin bag I got a blanket I can use” he said looking back at the little thin blanket by the sleeping bag

“No daryl it’s your sleeping bag I can take the blanket”

“Nah ya ain’t doin that”

“Well….i mean the sleeping bag is big enough for us both to fit” I said feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, but it’s not like daryl and I have never shared a bed, we’ve had many sleepovers as kids when his dad was being an ass but this felt…..different

He shrugged his shoulder “sure might get cold tonigh’ anyways” always the survival man

“Okay umm….dinner should be ready soon we should go set up around the fire” i said standing up and pulling my shoes back on, I looked back at him and he was just staring

“Ya coming?”

“Ya I’ll be out soon” he said grunting as if clearing his voice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl’s pov

Me and Merle were coming back from hunting when we safe people on the sidewalks being torn apart, guts everywhere, people screaming and and we knew we had to get outta here

“We gotta get away from these things, we’ll stop by the house get some shit, my bike and we will head to the quarry” Merle said speeding to our crappy house

After we got everything I stopped Merle

“We gotta get y/n, I can’ leave her”

“Nah leave that slut here, just gonna slow us down”

“Man im gettin her, ya either follow me or not but im gettin her” I groaned as I hoped in the truck and drove off the her place

After I got her she was so panicked but tried not to show it but I could see it in the way she acted, I’ll do anything to keep her safe even if I gotta but my life on the line, she everything to me and has been the only one to keep me going, she’s my sunshine

~~~~~~~~

Normal POV

I got a seat on a log pushed up close to the fire some were sitting around as there was two fires going to keep the flames not as big

Finally Daryl came out and I pat the spot next to me while he laid a blanket over my shoulders

“Thank you” I smiled he always showed his friendship to me in little ways and they always made me feel warm inside

I handed him a plate of fish and some random vegetables the group has found

“So y/n, how long have you guys been together?” Jacqui asked startling me with such a question

“What?”daryl asked confused

“You and y/n, you’re a couple aren’t you, you both seem like the perfect couple” she smiled

“Oh no he’s my best friend, been friends since we were 9, barely been apart”

I looked at Daryl and he was clearly uncomfortable and the people around us could sense it as well so they carried on with their own conversations

After we finished eating he stood up and left towards the tent, I sat my plate ontop of his and thanked the girls for supper and headed of towards the tent as well

“Can I come in?” I asked at the tent door

“Ya” he grunted as I heard him shuffle around

I unzipped it seeing him changed into more comfortable clothes sitting on his sleeping bag

I zipped the tent back up and smiled

“Maybe I should have packed some clothes quickly before we left now I gotta sleep in jeans”

He shuffled through his bag and pulled out one of my big night shirts

“Where’d you get this?” I asked confused

“When ya come over for the night sometimes ya left a few things and I kept them just incase, thought I’d bring em along” he shrugged

“Thank god for those sleepovers then, mind if I change in here?” I asked taking the shirt from him

“Sure” he turned as I started to unzip my pants and pull off my shirt, quick to haul the oversized shirt over my head as I came down to the middle of my thigh

I folded up my jeans and “day” shirt and laid it by his bag

“K I’m done” he turned and started to crawl his way into the sleeping bag

He opened one side and waited for me me to join, it was snug but with the chilly night air god was it warm, I turned so my back was to his chest so we could fit more comfortably and he laid his arm over my waist

“Where’s Merle?” I asked not having seen him all night

“Said he was going down to the quarry must have wanted to get his own fish er somethin?” I hummed in understanding feeling my eyelids getting heavier

“Daryl….please don’t ever leave me” I said finally understanding the weight of everything and that this is probably gonna be our forever world now

He grabbed my waist and held me closer

“I ain’ never leavin ya”

My heart felt a bit later after such a strenuous day

“Good night Daryl” I said as I laid my hand ontop of his

“Night sunshine”

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How is everyone liking the first chapter of this new series! I’ve very excited for this story! If you wanna be part of the taglist lmk!!

Taglist: @ghostboneswrites

Part 2<-