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#stop forcing people out of the closet
piratekenway · 1 year
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it should not be said, over and over again, that it’s just a dick move to out somebody before they’re ready. especially not to prove that they’re “queer enough” for the role they’re portraying! what should matter is that they’re good at their job!
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a-dowryofblood · 1 year
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To the people that made Kit Connor feel like he had to come out. Are you happy now? This is why I hate the idea of policing who gets to play queer roles. People's sexualities are none of our business.
He's 18, I didn't feel comfortable in any label at 18. I didn't know or was comfortable enough to let people know anything.
Is it really that hard to stop forcing people out of the closet for your entertainment???
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anneapocalypse · 1 year
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So, just curious how many writers and creators will have to be forcibly outed by relentless harassment before we acknowledge that "This queer characters was written by a cishet person and that's why they're bad" is not good criticism.
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tinogiehd · 1 year
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are you seeing op on twitter
anon I am losing my MIND over op on twitter like why are you dying on this hill
#see it’s weird because I understand the point they’re getting at like i do#but there’s also a point where “respecting” sexuality#transitions into flat out denying it and we’ve seen that before numerous times actually especially in this fandom#jokes aside I do understand their discomfort with speculation and while the OG tweet that they replied to#that got them into this was funny I understand why it could feel weird to see#<- talking about forcing gn.f into the closet#but I think at a point you need to ask WHY you immediately discount him saying he likes men as a joke#or why all the times he’s expressed attraction to men are unserious and untrue#because that’s where I take an issue#sure there is a level of humor that 5/5 in general have that those could fall under but George has never played much into it#outside of d.nf and like. you can see how that had evolved#to be something different than what it first was#I’m really not a fan of how op acts like he’s having his autonomy taken away by speculation#again he’s a grown man with an observably good grasp on his public image#he’s careful with it and he always has been and he’s stuck up for himself before when we’ve crossed lines#it’s very clear that he knows that many people perceive him as something other than straight#and if he wanted to change that he could double down on saying he’s straight and that would be that#sometimes you can exercise autonomy by not doing anything or by things behind the scenes like consenting to have a picture of you kissing#a man who many people think you’re into#released or consenting to have him post pictures of your ass online or not telling him to stop liking romantic art of the two of you#or calling each other your “cute date“#you get what I’m trying to get at?#aya asks
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dearreader · 11 months
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thinking of the kids on tiktok who asked “lol what is the government going to do? stop us from having sex” when talking about gay rights being taken away and the girl who was arguing that we could infer taylor was queer from her music since we found that oscar wilde was gay from his work even thought he never formally came out and someone responded “i don’t want to say your wrong but it’s crazy that you don’t know oscar wilde was arrested for homosexuality”
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rampantmuses · 1 year
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If you're one of the absolute malignant cockwombles that accused Kit Connor of "queerbaiting" which forced at 18 YEAR OLD to out himself....
May I remind you that NO ONE owes you their coming out. NO ONE. You are not owed it because you like their work. Get that through your skulls.
Stop acting like queer people owe you their queerness. They fucking don't
Just stop.
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buck-yyyy · 1 month
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everything is wrong so fucking wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong
edit: i hit tag limit. warning for an insane vent about maybe-abuse i guess though i doubt many people will read it
#time is wrong my memory is wrong i feel wrong my head is wrong everything is WRONG#i hate him i miss him i can’t decide if it was really abuse and it is all so wrong and out of place because it’s two years later and he’s#still in my head and my frog hoodie feels wrong because of him and i’m forcing myself to wear it anyways because it is MINE and i loved it#until he ruined it and it’s a weird texture against my skin and the arms get in the way and it feels so different than i remember after#being on a hanger lying dead in my closet for two years with a broken zipper and a newly uncovered layer of ickiness#and i am scared and i am tired and everything is just so. fucking. wrong.#i hope he goes to ohio and i hope he rots and i hope my skin will stop FUCKING crawling at the damn park I HATE IT#I HATE HIM#he fucking ruined me two years late#and i still. can’t. tell. if. it. was. my. fault.#because isn’t it? isn’t that why all of this happened because i pushed and i pushed and i fucking pushed#and most of it happened when we were just friends and it wasn’t that bad and no one else said anything so what the fuck do i know#but i can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. and i blame him.#i miss his dog. i wish id gotten to meet her. i cant express how thankful i am that i was never in his house#but she didn’t deserve any of that#i miss her i hate that she’s gone and i hate that i feel somewhat bad for him because of it#i am so. tired#and done#and i want to go home and i AM home but im not because its all FUCKING wrong#i hate recognizing traits of his in other terrible people#i’ll watch that damn vod and think ‘fuck he did that too’ and i’ll hear them talk and think ‘fuck he did that too’ but surely it shouldn’t#mather because it was friendship and we were never REALLY dating#but deserved lol. and my ribs. and my knuckles. and the jokes-not-jokes and the reiteration that i’m stupid#and he was only continually nice to me when he thought i was The One#but even then he was shit#just… in a more hidden way#poking and tugging at boundaries until they moved back bit by bit#and i don’t remember i don’t remember i don’t REMEMBER how bad jt might have gotten#fuck#fuck i need to be held
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nanaslutt · 18 days
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shameless
ʚ pairing: college fuckbudy au sukuna x reader
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ʚ cont: fem reader, fuckbuddies, public sex, degradation, praise, dirty talk, rough sex, biting, manhandling, teasing, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI (18+)
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Shut up." He groaned against your ear, the pressure of his hand against your mouth getting stronger as he fought your noises. "I said shut up." Sukuna had a strong grip on your hip, using the leverage he had there to yank your hips back against his pelvis, allowing him to bury his cock deep inside you with each thrust.
Just outside the closet, you could hear people calling out for one another. The sound of the basketball hitting the hard ground and squeaky shoes was only backround noise in your head, as the sound of Sukuna's soft grunting and heavy breathing in your ear took over the majority of your senses. Sukuna pressed his lips together when you squeezed your thighs tightly and almost doubled over as his cock hit a deep spot inside you, making you stand on shaky legs.
"Do you want everyone to catch you whoring yourself out in here? Huh?" Sukuna whispered against your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your hands balling into fists against the hardwood of the door in front of you. You tried to shake your head against his palm, doing your best to answer while your mouth was being covered.
"You sure? Cos you sure are being fucking loud." He groaned, slamming his hips into yours as he spoke, making you yelp against his hand. Sukuna pasued his thrusts, burying his cock as deep as he could inside you as he released your hip and grabbed your throat, using both hands on your neck and face to turn your head to the side to face him. It was dark in the closer, save for the sliver of light peeking through the center of the double doors, but that small amount of light was more than enough to see his expression, how irritated he looked.
Sukuna pressed his mouth only a hair length away from his hand that covered your own, his eyes staring into yours like he was trying to look into your soul. His nose scrunched before he tipped his chin up and spoke, "Shut the fuck up." He whispered pointedly, raising his eyebrows as you. You furrowed your eyebrows and whimpered into his hand, feeling a new wave of arousal bubble up in your stomach from his harsh words.
Sukuna practically yanked your head forward again, releasing your neck harshly to grip your hip again. The man started up his ruthless pace once more, the squelching from your cunt now louder than before. Sukuna dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing both of your bodies against the door. You could feel his hard, muscled frame rubbing against your own as he rolled his hips expertly into yours, his cock rubbing your gummy walls just right.
"So fucking tight, you're so tight." He groaned, his hand gripping your hip firmer, sure to leave a bruise for you later. You could only whine and let your body go limp in his hold as he fucked into you how he pleased, using your cunt like his own personal fleshlight. "You sure know how to take a cock, you know that? Just wish you weren't so fucking noisy." He growled before sliding his hand under your skirt and finding you clit with ease.
You hunched forward, your feet shifting as you caught yourself from falling over. You were saved largely from Sukuna pressed so tightly against you. "You're so weak." He insulted, forcing his knee between your legs from behind to keep you steady in case you tried to fall over again. "Just cum, stop trying to run away," Sukuna growled, turning his head into your neck. You felt his teeth scrape over your skin, making you arch your back into him.
Sukuna's breath caught in his throat as you fucked yourself back against him just from that little movement. His thrusts started to grow sloppier, as did his fingers on your clit as he tried to get you there with him. "Gonna cum on my cock in front of all these losers?" Sukuna teased, sucking on your skin between his words. "Look how fucking close they are." He continued, peeking up to look at your expression from the side.
When he saw your eyes were pressed tightly together, his face screwed in displeasure. The hand around your mouth gripped the bottom half of your face firmly, forcing your head up to look through the crack of the closet, just big enough for one of your eyes to look out of. "I said look." He teased, watching you carefully to make sure you opened your eyes as he held your face up. Sukuna winced when he felt your walls squeeze around his cock.
"Oh you like this, huh?" He teased, pressing himself harder against you, all while fucking into you steadily and rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles. You shook your head vehemently, both of your hands leaving the door to grip his thick wrist tightly to ground yourself. "Slut, your body is honest, no need to lie." His name-calling made you feel like you were going to burst at any second.
Your thighs shook around your own, the closer you got the harder it proved to stand on two legs. His body heat and the pressure of him against you was overwhelming, the sounds of the people practicing just feet away from you drowning out in your head as you succumbed to the pleasure he brought you. "Yeah that's right, cum all over my cock, let me feel it."
Sukuna bit your earlobe between his teeth, his tongue poking out between his lips to soothe over the harsh bite as his lips wrapped around it in tandem, the gentler touch making you go dizzy. Sukuna bit down hard on his teeth, the muscles in his jaw bulging under the weight of them as his own eyes fluttered in their sockets. He felt the heat of his high boiling inside him, reading his release in his heavy balls that slapped wetly against your ass.
Your jaw went slack as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, your body curled in on itself, forcing Sukuna's to follow as your knees gave out and you fell to the ground. Sukuna's moan got caught in his throat as he came, his hand leaving your clit and mouth to wrap tightly around your midsection, keeping your lower half against him as he weakly thrust into you while he released his load, his knees parting around your body as the two of you slowly hit the floor, shaking in each others embrace.
Your own arms wrapped around Sukuna's that held your body as you shook and spasmed while your cunt milked his cock for all it was worth. The small equipment closet was filled with gasps and groans as the two of you fought to catch your breath. Sukuna's hot breath on your shoulder could be felt through your clothes. Even though he was wearing a condom, you could feel how much he came, could feel how he filled the condom up inside you, his balls emptied into it.
He pulled out with a groan, placing one arm on the door in front of him, the other coming behind him to grab his cock and pull off the used condom. "Fuck, get on the pill already, this condom barely holds in shit," Sukuna complained, tucking himself into his pants before he stood behind you, tying the used condom into a knot. "No way, I don't feel like having your cum dripping out of me all day, god knows you wouldn't pull out." You sighed, adjusting your panties back to cover your ruined cunt on the ground.
Sukuna leaned down and hoisted you up from under your arms, his hands curling around your body and pressing your back against him once you were steady. "You would love that shit, whore." He teased, finishing his sentence with a laugh as you jabbed your elbow back into his stomach, forcing him to release you as you fixed yourself, leaving the man still laughing to himself.
"How long until their practice is over? It's too hot in here." You complained, fixing your hair the best you could with minimal light and no mirror. "Just walk out." Sukuna shrugged, saying it like it was obvious. You were about to shoot his stupid idea down before he pushed you out of the way and unlocked the door, pushing the large swinging door open with no care in the world.
The boys playing basketball were too absorbed in the game to notice your presence as Sukuna stepped out and started walking on the outside of the court like he didn't just get done fucking you in there. You stood behind the door watching him walk out without a care in the world, only pausing his pace when he realized you weren't behind him. "Hurry up." He grunted, hands in his pockets. You shook your head, sighing as you responded. "Fucking shameless."
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miyaur · 1 year
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7 minutes in heaven ⟢ with the hsr men !! — synopsis. your friends play a game, and force you to join, and just so happens the bottle lands on you, and you forget you're playing 7 minutes in heaven with them, and the bottle lands on your dear trailblazing friend too. — a letter from the author. sorry lord the voices win today, anyways like i said earlier, here's a hsr post! from me to you~! — heads up. nothing too smutty happens, kissing n stuff all that sappy stuff, implied that they like you btw, matchmaker is march in most of these btw bc march would, most characters are indeed here!
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DAN HENG ・really calm outside, freaking out internally inside. the person he likes, in the same room with him? that was something that already made him have a somewhat red tint on his cheeks, and his fate slowly being determined, and into a closet with you instead. the person who invited you just had to be the one person who knew he liked you- march 7th. the scolding later on that he'd give wouldn't out match how much he's feeling right now. march outside the closet lowkey cheering for you two though, because she knows you both like each other back, yet, it seemed like you were blind to it, to his obviousness, it was annoying!! you both were so obvious with liking each other.. ugh just kiss! ・kind of awkward, but trust me he's just really nervous. thinking that the person he loves and admires silently is in a closet with him, the idea isn't something he thought would ever happen (in real life at least, he has dreams about you.) while he's there, you probably gotta start the conversation. it's definitely hard to try talking while people are waiting for 7 minutes to be over to see what might've happened to you two. besides everyone already knows you both like each other. ・probably really soft lips, they smell like peaches or maple, or both. and honestly and quite literally a great kisser. knows where to put his hands, probably cups your cheek while kissing you, pretty long kiss too, like after him confessing to you, will hold the kiss for pretty long, and maybe into a mini makeout session. ・when you both are out of the closet or when they open the door, whether or not you guys are still kissing she'll go eww i hope you both already confessed and kissed!! you both will get angry at her later, but it was definitely a push you both needed. so a small scolding and thanking her is better.
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CAELUS ・such a gentle baby with you, always making sure you're comfortable with him. if you look at the replies in game when you use him instead of the female mc aka stelle, he's much more gentle with it. and as someone who picked stelle instead of caelus she's way more reckless with responses.. super passionate about it too. kind of shy when the kiss between you two finally happens. it was also march who set you both up by the way, no shame at all she invited you to play while he was beside her. 'c'mon! live a little! plus you could even get to kiss you know who~!' march quoted. a real matchmaker honestly. ・like i said he's kind of shy, not awkward at all, he's the first to talk, and started to confess. he didn't care if march was on the other side of the door listening to your conversations. if he wanted to stop being shy around you and stutter, this is what he had to do. and who knows, you might like him back~ march was sure that you did, because you also told her, and the only person whoever knew about you two. holds your hands in his while he confesses. all he could do was continue and turn red. after he was finished, you initiated the kiss, one that was both passionate, and definitely awaited. most likely he took so long saying that he liked you that you guys had less than 2 minutes to finally kiss, march opening the closet, to see you to share what looked like a quick peck, when it's only really you two that really knew what happened there. ・as caelus took his seat on the floor back down next to march, while you took the seat next to the opposite side of where caelus was, all could do was laugh and congratulate you both, and continuing the game. every little glance you both shared, with a smile.
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SAMPO ・big tease about it. 'haha we're both here together. <3' he's had his fair share of kisses in the past, but you're his first actual romantic crush, the first to actually catch his attention, march probably didn't know you liked him and didn't mean to put you in there with someone so... eugh!!! he's such an ick it's undescribable!! - march, but honestly his slyness and attractiveness wasn't the only thing that caught your eye. inside he's a really genuine guy. teasingly sweet, that's what made your heart flutter. ・other than a few obvious red flags, he's a real sweetheart. and it's okay we're colorblind together. at the very start it's already a makeout session inside that closet. probably moans a bit to piss you off. definitely leaves hickeys on you after every little kiss he gave, now that he knows you're his, you know? overtly possessive of you too and rightfully so. he may look like a player but in the end he's also really new to all and everything romantic. march opens the closet, pinching her nose, "ew get out of there!! gosh, i hope you didn't do anything bad to them.." brushing dust particles off your shoulders, looking up and down for any bruises, and spots the hickeys, "ew.. you both really did more than just talking in that closet.." ・she took a breath of relief and sat you down next to her, far from sampo, who kept smirking at you, winking even, all you could do was look away, covering the red on your face. but march gave a disgusted look in return, mouthing the words "stay away from them!"
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WELT YANG ・experienced dilf and great kisser, not shy when confessing. cups your face for you to listen to him, and okay this time is wasn't march even thought it was so obvious that you guys liked each other, it was himeko AND march. ok it was mostly march but himeko helped convince welt, that's a big part. anyways! such a romantic. total sweetheart with you, wraps his arms around your waist while you place your arms around his neck like a new years' kiss happening. ・remembers when it's time to get out anyway, so makes sure it's just you two who know what went down, but one arm still around your waist, to let march and himeko know their plan was a success, he already knew what they were planning, he just let it play out, honestly didn't think they had a plan so the bottle would really land on you and him. was it.. really just by chance..? ・march is over the moon with himeko celebrating you and him finally being together, honestly the people who cheered you both on the most during your dating phase. ・i forgot but his kind of kisses are long lasting, patient, and.. i don't really know how to explain this but just super genuinely passionate. honestly you guys probably went more than just 7 minutes... and maybe more in the bedroom
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GEPARD LANDAU ・has never kissed anyone before, like other than kisses on the cheek, or forehead, he's never done that stuff. this time the person who set you two up for this was his dear sister, serval.. plus a bit of march, because march would!! serval asked for her help anyway.. new to kisses, and new to relationships / romantic feelings, so please guide him, so precious when he does confess, it feels like it's scripted almost honestly. but he's really so genuine with it i promise, probably starts as a kiss on your cheek, and escalates from there. ・probably a really messy kiss, but just tell him he did great and that you feel the same, sprinkled with i love you and kisses all over his face, you both end up going out the room holding hands <3 ・march and serval are the happiest people, like parents really, all in all he's really happy you accepted his confession, serval is so happy, even gepard takes you home after the party finishes up, all that cheesy stuff like a kiss before he goes on the doorstep, <33
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JING YUAN ・who invited this hottie to the party though, it's okay i'm not complaining, anyways, he's so calm and sly with it too.. he the type to put your hair behind your ear and whisper how much he loves you, and joking around on how it took you so long to realize it, then his soft lips crash into yours, aa he's such a hopeless romantic the whole moment felt like a dream <3 ・has kissed a fairly okay amount of people, he probably smells like strawberries and cherry blossoms. or maybe trees, either of those, and his lips are super soft, and it's like he's always prepared for a kiss, especially when it's from you, and this time no march didn't plan it, more surprised than you are when she sees the dark hickeys scattered on your neck, lowkey you started smelling like him too... that's at least what professional matchmaker march 7th said! ・full makeout session with him, was literally about to strip you naked and make you his, but sadly 7 minutes isn't long, and confessing did take a great sum of time, what a shame.. his kisses are filled with passion and hunger, every kiss makes him want more, probably even when you both are already outside the closet he'd give you a kiss, a quick one, enough to make march realize what she's done, dear god.
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BLADE ・it's probably kafka who set you both up instead, she knows blade liked you for longer, can't tell if you feel the same, to be frank, and that's impressive because she can usually read people pretty well. but she thought you both were a match made in heaven! but it took you so long to see his obvious hints, ever since you joined, you really hadn't realized after the asking of what you love, what flowers you like, what's your favorite food, literally throwing the smoothest pickup lines at you ever? hell i'm not even that blind and i have glasses (i am that blind) ・kafka shoves you both into the closet really fast and waits outside in excitement "oo i hope they're gonna be together now after the 10 millionth hint <333!!! what do you think silver wolf?!" "what if they end up having sex what then-" cut to the part where he's pinned you to the wall and making out with you really harshly, probably degrades you a bit, will leaves hickeys, and bites your lip when you guys kiss. lots of tongue action, honestly is not shamed at all, is willing to strip you 'till kafka opens the closet doors super happy and giddy ・"you guys together now or what??" after pulling you both out of the closet, hickeys painted on your skin, blade's face tinted ruby, and eyes glowing red, "what if you just left them there in the closet, maybe we would've had a kid on board joining us-" ・overall um, kafka and silver wolf are happy (and relieved) you guys are together now plss stop being blind.
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kafka seems like the rich aunt who comes around every 2 years (click here for taglist!)
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hellaephemeral · 1 year
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people need to fucking learn what queerbating is and that real people cannot do it. even celebrities. people just existing and being themselves is not queerbating.
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Golden Walkway
Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.)
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)
Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️
Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s.
Words: 4,300
A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.
Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.
***
“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.   
“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”
“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”
“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”
“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”
“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”
The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.
“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up. 
“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back. 
“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.
It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt. 
You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up. 
“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.
“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.
“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.
“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.” 
You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain. 
It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman. 
“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you. 
“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg. 
“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours. 
“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”
“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is. 
Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you. 
“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.
“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.
“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder. 
Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.
“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.
Joel removes his hand from between your legs and brings it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.
Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”
Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement. 
Joel throws open his gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up his walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks his doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out. 
“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off. 
You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy. 
“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked. 
What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf. 
You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet. 
“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”
You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.
The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin. 
“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.” 
You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen. 
You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear. 
“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”
“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.” 
You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver. 
“Okay baby?”
“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.
“Whaddo you need sweetheart?” 
“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”
“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.
“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.
“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.
“Please,” you implore, sobbing out. 
“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”
This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.
You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey. 
He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner. 
“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you. 
“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.
Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire. 
Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.” 
You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.
“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?” 
“Pleeeease,” you keen out. 
“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.” 
You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you. 
“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.
Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”
And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm. 
“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out. 
He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”
You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him. 
“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.
“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?” 
Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.
“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”   
“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken. 
“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”
That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know. 
“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you. 
“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout. 
“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.
You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth. 
“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel. 
“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love. 
You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off. 
A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep. 
“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.
You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you. 
“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn. 
“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”
A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)
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theamazingannie · 1 year
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Im bisexual but tbh g*ylors make me homophobic
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daisybianca · 4 months
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pairing: lando norris x femalereader
summary: ruining Lando's live stream is your favorite thing to do when in the mood.
warnings: female masturbation, mention of sexual actions, cursing words
(a/n): lando's recent stream look. I'm unwell.
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YOUR HEADPHONES WERE filled with the sweet melody of Taylor Swift's "London Boy" and then you remembered that in the next room of the house you really did have a London Boy waiting for you.
Your boyfriend had one of his usual streams, and it was always your choice to step away from the place where he was doing them and not take part in it. You didn't like the idea of giving fans more content about your relationship than there already was.
By changing the song of the playlist, you settled on something more freaky, like the wreeknd.
Hearing Lando's voice and loud laugh echoing from the next room, you opened the app on your phone and joined his live stream.
Your username was a random name that only Lando recognized.
God, he was so hot.
Messy curly hair, an unbuttoned white t-shirt, and grey plaid pants.
He had heard your wish to let his beard grow long, and you loved every moment of it. Watching the screen intently, listening to his strong accent through the device and from the adjacent wall, you felt your heart flutter loudly. Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw from the screen Lando laughing at something and pulling back, spreading his legs widly while bending his head back.
Swallowing, you decided to write a message in the comments that only he would recognize "Turn off the Stream and come over here. Im in the mood."
A few seconds later, he read it. He didn't say anything. He just smiled.
Again, you chose to write the same comment in case he didn't pay much attention to it the first time.
"I'm not shutting down the live. If anyone wants to tell me something, they can come here and tell me themselves."
You smiled and turned off your phone.
Is that how he wanted it? With games?
He asked and shall receive.
You got out of bed, opening your closet and wearing the most revealing and slutty piece of clothing you owned. You also put on a pair of high heels and began to walk slowly towards the next room.
The door was closed so you touched the handle and began to open it gently.
Two beautiful eyes met yours. Then they scanned you from head to toes.
Whatever Lando was trying to tell his viewers was now forever gone.
His jaw closed and he licked his lips. His eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.
Bringing a finger to your lips, you murmued "Shhh."
You felt his eyes follow you as you closed the door and sat comfortably on the couch across from him.
You weren't, of course, visible on the camera. And your boyfriend did his best not to show his viewers the uncomfortable situation he was in. He kept talking, but you were sure he didn't understand what he was saying either.
You stopped looking at him and tried to forget the fact that you had to be discreet because thousands of people were somehow in the room with you.
Spreading your legs, you pushed your warm hand where you wished Lando's was right now.
You immediately shuddered at the very first contact. Twisting your body a little, you gave your boyfriend a better angle of your wet--dripping actually--spot.
His eyes never abandoned you. At one point, you heard him hissing plaid from his breath. "Fuck." His voice made you shudder. "Thats it." He said and closed the live show without saying anything else to his audience.
You stopped the movements and touches on your body and looked at him throwing the headphones on the chair and walking briskly over to you.
That's my boy.
"You want to fucking make me come in front of thousands of people? Huh?" He walked towards you and started unbuttoning his pants. You just smirked and bit your bottom lip. "Acting like a little brat, getting treated like one, right?" He grabbed your neck and forced you to him. After taking one huge taste of your lips, he let you down and removed his white t-shirt. "Open your legs. You're lucky I didn't choose to fuck you live, baby."
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yawnderu · 2 months
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Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (1/?)
A word before we start: screaming sounds a whole lot like laughter.
Nothing beats the paranoia of a high man. Rough, calloused hands shove you into the dark wooden closet, whisper-yelling orders to keep your damn mouth shut before the though of protesting could even occur inside your little drunken head. Everything is spinning inside around the room, too focused on the light sensation in your head to be able to connect the dots until it's too late.
“Listen, man, we don't have anyt—” Life can be unpredictable. One moment you're having fun with your friends in a rented cabin in the woods, and the other, your best friend is being shoved into the floor by a much bigger man, the loud sounds of his shouts and struggling instinctively forcing you to put a palm over your mouth, trying your best not to scream along your dying friend.
A quiet whimper makes its way out of your throat the moment a long, bloodied machete is raised in the air, horrified wide eyes meeting yours as the panic fully sets in for him. It's like seeing a trainwreck yet being unable to stop watching, even when your brain is screaming at you to close your eyes. To save yourself from the trauma, to protect your psyche, to let the last image of your best friend be him alive—
Hack.
The masked killer lands heavy blows one right after the other on the figure underneath him, blood splashing all over the room, forcing another muffled whimper out of your lip as the man hacks away at your friend's dead body, seemingly getting more and more excited with every single new wound he's forcing.
The house is quiet— way too quiet for a group of 5 drunk people. You were previously in the bathroom, too preoccupied throwing your guts out in the bathroom to hear any noise through the loud gags and the ringing in your ears. The man's heavy breathing fills the room, making you subconsciously hold your own, not wanting to get any of his attention and be his next victim. They say ignorance is bliss, yet not knowing if the man is aware of your presence only makes the black pit of dread grow in your stomach.
His movements are slow and calculated, letting go of your friend's mangled up corpse, the sound of the machete being pulled out of his flesh almost makes you gag, secretly thankful that you emptied your stomach earlier. Baby-blue eyes scan the room with a precision that almost seemed robotic, instinctive, like a predator who has always succeeded at catching his prey.
Your heart goes down to your stomach when his cold gaze connects with yours through the thin wooden blinds, masked head tilting to the side in what seems to be sick amusement. He inches closer to you, his footsteps surprisingly quiet for a man his size, eyes crinkling up with his pupils dilating quickly, black almost taking over the pale blue.
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His gloved hand raises slowly towards the doorknob, maintaining eye contact with your tear-filled eyes— only for his head to snap up towards the sound of a crack on the wooden floor coming from the kitchen. He gives the closet one last look before running towards the sound, the sickening sound of your friend's blood and guts dripping down his machete and clothes following right after him.
Thrashing and more screaming is heard from the other side of the house, snapping you out of it enough to realize it's your only chance to escape the same fate your friends met. Your shaky hand twists the doorknob slowly, not daring to look at the dead body right in front of the door— the body of someone who died just to protect you.
A shaky whimper escapes your lips when you accidentally kick the limb corpse, shaking your head a few times to snap out of it before you move away from him, staring ahead with an unfaltering sense of dread eating you from within.
Your steps are wide and calculated, sobered up the moment the masked killer started attacking your friend right in front of you. From what little you can see thanks to the moonlight seeping through the windows, the entire place looks out of a horror movie, blood staining every single wall, dripping down at such a slow pace that it almost seems like it's God's way of taunting you.
Relief finds place into the pit of dread the moment you can see the entrance door, finally feeling like you're able to breathe again— like you're not leaving behind any of your friends who may have survived the brutal attack. Guilt has no place in survival, you convince yourself within seconds as your shaky hand reaches for the doorknob, only to be slammed against the wall, a gloved hand covering your mouth to muffle the bloodcurdling screams that leave your lips.
You thrash against his rough hold, earning nothing other than a much harder hair pull, only stopping your thrashing the moment you feel cold metal pressing against your throat. Your eyes close as tears fall down your cheeks, pooling on the soft fabric of the gloves of the man holding you against your will.
“And where the fuck do you think you're going, hm?” He turns you around forcefully, pining your body against the wall with his own, tilting his head to the side just to taunt you as his sharp machete presses harder against your neck. His free hand comes up to caress your cheek, teasingly spreading your friend's blood all over your cheeks, forcing a choked sob out of you.
“Aww... Now you're all quiet. Poor pretty, broken princess...” His tone holds nothing but fake pity and pure amusement, sickly getting off on your pathetically horrified expression. His body presses against you harder as he looms over you, only leaning down to press his masked face against the crook of your neck, not bothering to hide the way he's inhaling your smell as the back of his gloved hand keeps absentmindedly running over your cheeks in an action that would be soothing, had he not been the man who killed your loved ones.
“I'll let you go.” Your breath hitches at his words, not believing him for a single second— not when you can feel his boner pressing against your stomach, his hips subtly rubbing against you to get more friction while he wonders if it's truly worth it to let you go instead of sending you home in a box.
“But you say a word about this to anyone... and I mean anyone, princess, and I swear to God, I'll gut you like a fucking fish.” His words take a bitter tone after he calls you princess, though the hold on the machete softens slightly as he hears your choked sobs, knowing the only thing preventing you from nodding vigorously like a well-trained dog is the blood-bathed steel pressing to your neck.
“Yeah? Do you promise?” The machete is moved out of the way, yet he still keeps you pinned against the wall so you don't try to run away. His pinky finger is raised up to your face mockingly, giving you an expecting look that takes you a few seconds too long to understand. Your shaky hand comes up to his, intertwining your pinky with his in a childish promise, a whimper leaving your lips the moment he applies enough pressure to make it hurt before releasing you.
He moves out of the way after a few tantalizing seconds, nodding his head towards the door, watching you scurry away like a kicked puppy, his entire body itching to go after you— and deciding against it last second, knowing he'll be seeing you soon.
Author's note: The art published in all chapters belongs to @moosch!! We're both very excited about this project and to expand on something we've been talking about almost daily for months, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as we do. <3
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readychilledwine · 2 months
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Small World Pt 2
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Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.
Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy
A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends
Peep Part 1 Here 💙
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Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.
His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.
He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.
7 siphons would not be enough.
And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.
He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"
Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."
A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"
Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."
"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."
"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."
Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."
Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.
You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.
You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.
Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.
Like they had with Nesta.
Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.
You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.
Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.
Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."
"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"
The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."
Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"
Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.
Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"
"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."
The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.
He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.
Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.
They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.
Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.
You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.
A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"
"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."
Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.
You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.
You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."
After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.
"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."
Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.
You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.
"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.
Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.
Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.
It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.
Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.
Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?
That you were afraid of storms?
That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?
You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.
If Rhysand would just believe in you.
Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.
Fuck expectations.
Fuck the rules.
Fuck your family.
Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.
He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.
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moongreenlight · 2 months
Text
Said my piece about stalker!soap but how could I forget stalker ex boyfriend!ghost????????????!
Cw: Creepy crawler behavior. Stalking. Breaking in.
Maybe you should stop listening to true crime podcasts at work.
It feels entirely silly. You’re surely working yourself up over nothing, but some mornings you wake up and have to explain-away the way that your toothbrush is in the wrong spot or that there’s a lunch packed in the fridge that you can’t remember putting together yourself. There’s pictures on your phone that look like your dark bedroom that you’re pretty sure you didn’t take yourself. Maybe you accidentally took it on the way to bed? While you were getting up to use the bathroom?
You talk yourself blue in the face explaining it away well enough that you convince yourself your flat must be haunted. It seems almost logical? Better than any of the alternatives you can come up with if nothing else.
You live with the infrequent tweaks and changes to your surroundings. Lights on you shut off. Doors open you left closed. Your laptop charger going missing when you were certain you left it on the desk.
You almost go so far as to get a motion-activated light to plug into the outlet by your bedroom door, but you convince yourself against it after wandering the aisles of a drugstore with it in your cart long enough for an employee to start following you around. You toss it back on the wrong shelf and buy a packet of sweets you won’t eat in an attempt to not look like you were casing the joint.
But then it picks up. Gets more serious. Windows being opened while you sleep. Strange creaking of floorboards that are too loud to be the building settling. Your bed being made when you get back from an outing you had to rush out the door for. Massive men’s sweaters showing up in your in-unit dryer. The trash being emptied while you were at work. It gets so bad that you stop staying at home because it’s simply too creepy.
It’s the kind of fear that settles in the craggy parts of your brain. Seems silly if you think about it too hard the same way being scared of the dark in your closet after watching a horror movie does. Being scared of a potentially haunted apartment doesn’t really convey the severity of the situation when you try and talk about it with people.
You stay with friends. Couch surf as long as you can until you cannot possibly force people to take you in any longer. And when you’ve exhausted all other options, you find yourself texting Ghost for the first time in months.
Hey.
It’s hours before he responds. Not unusual. And instead of him texting back, you see a phone call block out the video you’re watching on your phone from a very well-lit spot in the living room. Also not unusual.
You pick up, but it takes you a few seconds to choke out words around the sudden lump in your throat.
“Forget how to answer the phone?”
He sounds irritated -again- not unusual.
It’s quiet where he is. Sounds like maybe he’s in a smaller space. His bedroom or his car? Though you couldn’t imagine him out at this hour of the night.
“Sorry. No. I- sorry.”
Shifting from his end. The static of fabric brushing past the microphone. A hefty sigh.
“Sorry.”
“You said.”
“Uh- I don’t really know how to ask you this, it’s- silly. I don’t know. Are you- um- busy?”
“S’half one in the morning.”
“It was a better time when I texted.”
It’s hard not to snark at him.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean no. I’m not busy.”
You’d love nothing more than to hang up on him, but you stayed up the entire two nights before because you couldn’t find anyone to come stay with you and you were getting desperate.
“Could you come over?”
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