#many positive ones that I wanted to share | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anthemofgvf · 1 day

Text

Groupie Love: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

"you're in the bar, playing guitar, i'm trying not to let the crowd next to me. it's so hard sometimes with a star, when you have to share him with everybody." description: being jake’s groupie was heaven on earth, yet sinful in every desirable way. while the world reveled in his public, entrancing persona, you reveled in the boundaries of reality and fantasy intertwining in secrecy.

word count: 6.9k

warnings after cut…

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

warnings: good amount of plot, mentions of drinking, alcohol, smut (18+ minors dni), swearing, hardcore dom! jake, choking, spitting, praise/begging/degrading kink, rough sex, spanking, fingering, oral (male and fem! receiving), bit of fluff, some aftercare

disclaimer: this does not follow the real events of the starcatcher tour for the sake of the plot. thanks!

a/n: would also like to mention that yes, this IS based off of the Lana Del Rey song with the same title. As soon as I heard it, I immediately thought of Jake and writing a fic based off of it. If you haven't listened to the song, now is the perfect time to do so! hope you all enjoy :) <3

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

There was something so addictive about secrecy. To share such vulnerability with someone where no one's eyes could witness, but only you and another alone. To know each other by touch alone if every sense was stripped away, yet hiding the true reason why you could pick them apart in a crowd from that feeling. And while you two were friends with one another publicly, behind closed doors, you were both fucking like animals. There was no better way to describe your relationship with Jake. You were just one of his secrets, hidden in a closet, and you had accepted that.

You had met him after one of Greta Van Fleet's shows when their careers were just about to skyrocket and thank God you were able to catch him then. You hadn't really listened to their music before or even heard of them, but local concerts under 30 bucks as a fun night out with friends was always on the table. If it weren't for their small fanbase and lack of fame, you were positive you wouldn't have become Jake's personal groupie.

After hooking up with him in the venue's bathroom, twice, Jake simply couldn't have enough of you. And you, you were entranced by him and his sexual drive. You both also enjoyed each other's company in the short period of time you knew one another, so, you and he exchanged numbers and kept in contact. Whenever he was in town, you'd be next to him, and when he was gone, you were with someone else. More often than not, you two were spending time with one another purely for sex, but it was rare for you to leave immediately after. After all, Jake cared about you regardless of the label of your relationship with him, and you were enjoyable to be around.

There was no discussion of monogamy, so it was mutually decided that seeing other people was no issue. Sure, no one compared to the guitarist, but there was always someone to run down your time in the day when boredom struck, and you were unable to be at Jake's beckoning call. Even though Jake would always call you his, it was words that withheld no meaning. Only in moments where you and Jake were together alone did they obtain meaning, but you knew never to take him seriously.

Jealousy is a bitch, though, and it possessed you. It rotted you to your unchaste core. You could easily pretend it didn't bother you that other girls have had Jake the way you have or have even looked at him in that manner. Of course, you'd be lying to yourself if you said there wasn't a single sliver of selfishness towards him. How many girls Jake had been with next to you was a mysterious number, but you didn't choose to spend your time thinking about how many girls he's said the same things to as you. But, rather, feel empowered that there were fans in their crowds at shows that desperately wanted your place. Fans that screamed his name, made signs and t-shirts for him, dreamed of being more than just a fan in the crowd. That was something you had over them. That's what made you special. That's what gave you your title of a so-called 'groupie'.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

They had closed their most recent tour with a show in Nashville, and of course you were in attendance. Jake had even asked if you'd be there, knowing well enough that there was no way in hell you'd be skipping out on it, because you knew where the night would take you. Besides, you hadn't seen him in months. You hadn't been with him in months. You had grown a sense of longing for him after a short period of time away from the guitarist.

Before Greta Van Fleet had a larger fanbase, you were able to sit in the seats and get escorted backstage to Jake so you could watch as a fan. But, due to suspicious speculation amongst fans, and you and Jake wanting to continue the secrecy and keep the reputation of "just friends," you were granted a backstage pass and allowed to come into the arena or venue they'd be performing at before fans would arrive. Every place was different, so the execution of reaching him was always tweaked, but no matter what, you and him both knew you'd see one another after the show. You preferred to hang in the sound booth rather than backstage, anyways.

Rarely did you come early to be in attendance for soundcheck. Sure, there would be absolutely nothing wrong with it, but you always enjoyed watching him look for you amongst the fans, and his eyes light up in the slightest that had your heart stopping only for a second at the sign of recognition, feeling as though your breath had been taken from you and forcing your body to freeze. It never got old feeling his eyes latch onto you.

And you never got tired of watching him perform on stage. Now, with the new introduction of 'Mirador,' you got to watch him nearly twice as long. And, God, you never knew he could sing that well. That certainly was a turn on for you. Now your mind was wandering off to the thought of him singing in your ear.

You rarely tore your eyes from him while he was on stage, and he knew that he was hypnotic. He liked knowing that there were people who only cared to watch him and come to Greta Van Fleet's shows to be in his presence. Thrusting into his guitar as he spoke to himself and the crowd, hairs sticking to his cheeks with the accumulated sweat and still breathlessly giving his performance his all. You kept your eyes locked on his stomach and watched as the sweat beads dripped down his tender skin, and his hair whipping around and throwing his head back as he skillfully played on his instrument, exposing his Adam's apple to the fans that kept their eyes glued on his every move while he struck the next few chords of the song. You'd always convince yourself while swinging to the music that he was performing more theatrically for you, but you'd never been proven right nor wrong yet. He was entrancing to watch, and sometimes you found it unfathomable that you were a person in his life. A person who knew things that most didn't, a person who saw things most people didn't.

Your adrenaline always arose as soon as the four boys left the stage, and the lights illuminated the venue. Hearing different conversations from a multitude of fans that surrounded you, shuffling of feet and complaints of exhaustion. But there you were, hanging out in the sound booth waiting for security to come to your aid to escort you to backstage.

You wore a silver halter top that accentuated your chest, with a pair of velvet-blue flared leggings and converse. Thankfully, your shoes weren't shown due to the coverage of your pants, and it truly did not matter what clothes were on your body. They would be thrown on some floor in less than an hour, and that's all you cared about.

Eventually two men from Greta Van Fleet's team made their way to you once the venue was near empty from fans and began leading you backstage to the green room. You always loved that feeling in the pit of your stomach; it excitingly tumbled and twisted with each step closer you were to him. The awkward silence never faltered while the security guards guided you to backstage, but that gave you enough time to collect yourself before seeing Jake.

Your eyes were first met with Sam cracking open a beer, chatting with his girlfriend and keeping to themselves. When they saw you, they smiled without a word, and allowed you to keep moving. While you and Jake became "friends" the more you two saw each other, you had been brought around the band from time to time. More likely than not, it was for some sort of party, large gathering, or simply catching the boys after the show - uncommonly anything intimate. They knew what your purpose was, but they never questioned you. Either they simply didn't care, or they didn't want to ask questions they did not want answers to.

Danny was nowhere to be found, most likely in his dressing room, but the twins were walking into the green room, laughter erupting from Josh as he cracked his large, infamous smile that put his perfect teeth on display. His presence always soothed you when eyes seemed to be peering down your neck from your presence. Both were still in their stage attire, which was usual when you'd come so soon after the show had ended.

Josh had noticed you first, closing his mouth to a smirk that raised with the right corner of lips and pierced his cheek to reveal his dimple. Once Jake laid his eyes upon you, they were already following down your body, finally greeting you with a crack of a smile that told you his mind was already somewhere else.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you again," Josh greeted you with a tight hug, "nice seeing your face after so long." He patted your back and pulled away with a grin still plastered on his face.

"It has been long enough," you huffed a laugh. "Tour was good?" You flicked your eyes to Jake.

He gave you a slow, steady nod. "Was great. I'm sure you'd love to hear all about it, huh?"

"I wouldn't want anything else." You huffed a laugh, sticking your tongue in your cheek at his light sarcasm.

"I expect you'll be sticking around to celebrate the end of Starcatcher with us?" Josh said as he began to walk away. You followed his movements with your eyes as he walked over to a small fridge, turning to Jake who gave you a blank stare. Josh wasn't hinting at your intentions with Jake, but rather what would occur after-the-fact. He shrugged at you suggestively, but you couldn't depict what his choice was.

You chose to be safe. "We'll see, Josh," you directed your attention to him for a moment, "if I don't, I'll be sure to say goodbye to you before I head home."

He sauntered over to you with a beer in hand and patted your back with a soft smile. "Always a pleasure, y/n."

Leaving you and his twin alone, Jake ran his hand to your side and found the small of your back, pressing light enough to signal movement forward and follow him to his dressing room. You dared to look at him, to examine the light sheen of sweat that resided on his forehead that he forgot to wipe away once he exited the stage. And you knew he could feel your eyes lingering upon him, but he liked to be looked at. He liked the attention.

His dressing room door was already open, welcoming your entrance and waiting for your arrival. You eagerly stepped into the neatly decorated room and scanned the area for familiar artifacts of his scattered about: sunglasses, bracelets, necklaces, and his attire to be thrown on after his stage wear was stripped from his body.

He turned his back to you quickly and closed the door, locking it swiftly behind him. And once he turned around, he was wearing a softly cracked smile. It was always so intimidatingly perfect, how his eyes rested into a look that only told you that he was going to devour you.

"Barely said a word to me since I've arrived," you said innocently with your hands behind your back, "what's with the shyness, Jake?" You began to slip off your shoes as his eyes faltered from your own to do the same.

He took slow steps towards you to increase the intensity of your heartbeat in anticipation. He knew you craved the taste of his lips, the feeling of his hands on your figure. He always remembered what made your heart bang against your chest and your face flush into a pink hue.

His index finger cradled your jaw as he focused your eyes on him intently. "Was it so wrong of me to want a more private 'welcome home' from you?" His voice was coarse with the words slipping off his tongue smoothly like butter. Close to a whisper - the tone of intimacy.

You flicked your eyes to his coy smirk, then back to his dark brown eyes that peered at you so attentively. He was always so patient in these moments for an answer back.

"All this is, is private. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy the gesture, though." You wrapped your arms around his neck after motioning your pointer finger back and forth between the two of you, and in return, he pulled you into his chest and squeezed you against his body tightly.

And there he was, breathing softly down the side of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, and feeling the figure and warmth of your body in an embrace. You buried your face into the crook of his neck that you made room for with your arm to feel the skin that rested there to remember how it feels to be so close to Jake once again.

"You're a good singer, Jake," you said lowly into his ear, "better than I had expected."

You felt him chuckle against you, but his laughter came out in small breaths. He was amused by your playful banter and humbling words that he knew were harmless.

He unwrapped himself from you but kept the close proximity between the both of you. His tongue darted out and ran across the middle of his bottom lip, cracking a coy grin as he looked down at you with half-hooded eyes. He was effortlessly seductive.

"You're lucky I like you, y/n." His hand raised to the side of your face as he slowly began to caress it, watching the motions of his fingers as they began from your temple and journeyed to your jaw. "Because if I hadn't known better, I'd think you were disrespecting me." He gave you a playful, lazy glare.

You gave him a small smile, allowing your fingers to focus on toying with the silver jewelry that hung dangerously low on his exposed skin.

"Well, you and I both know that you love to play that game." You said softly to yourself. Loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to showcase your lack of desire for a response.

You took the opportunity to run your hands onto his chest, letting them reach to the waistband of his trousers, and looking to him innocently with a smile. And he smiled back at you softly, waiting patiently for you to be finished reveling in his presence and this moment.

You placed your hands onto his neck, thumbing at the skin and looking at him for direction, for initiation. So, he cupped your jaw and placed a gentle, longing kiss onto your lips. You practically melted into his mouth and encouraged his tongue to begin roaming around the inside of your mouth as you began to dance your own in his. The kiss grew deeper quickly, and you both remembered the addictive taste of each other. The swift routine of throwing each other clothes began, where you're tugging down Jake's pants to leave him in his boxers, and he's tossing off his cropped, black jacket to land onto the ground.

Your hands traveled into his damp hair and tugged him deeper into your lips as his fingers played at the waistband of your leggings. The muscles at your stomach began to tense up at the sensation of the pads of his fingers toying at the idea of diving down into your underwear and satisfying you.

His mouth pulled from yours for a moment to throw off your top, which you assisted him in doing, and allowed it to fall wherever it landed. As soon as he got the sight of your bare breasts, he encapsulated his mouth onto yours, and massaged one in his hand, while the other hand held its place at your waist.

You snaked your hands in between your glued bodies and cupped his hard cock with a light squeeze, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan from his throat and into your mouth.

"God, how I've missed you." He said into your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip. His lips began to travel to your neck, pressing rough, sloppy kisses onto the skin. You contemplated telling him how much you missed him, but you knew that he knew you did - you were like putty under his touch.

Your head titled back to allow Jake more access to your neck. One of his hands ditched your body and tugged at your hair to gain dominance, keeping your neck bent back as far as possible so he could taste your skin. His other hand traveled to the small of your back to keep you on your feet, and you swore you would've fallen to your knees if it weren't for Jake holding you up. With your eyes shut, you tuned into the feeling of his wet tongue trailing its way up your neck and to your jaw, then suckling down to your collarbone. His mouth always felt like a beautiful curse against your skin, while compelling, still so unbelievably relieving.

Your hands stuck onto his hair, tugging and pulling as his lips trapped your right nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled circles around it, with his index and thumb massaging the other with the movements. Soft moans escaped your mouth, but you were sure to monitor any sound out of you.

His eyes peered up at you as he removed his mouth from your body and grabbed your face with his hands clasped at your jaw.

"Pants off, now." He instructed lowly, and while you slipped off your underwear with your velvet flares, he was throwing off his boxers and revealing his throbbing cock. You could hardly focus on anything other than him inside of you at this moment, with your head dizzy at the thought of his length filling you up to the hilt.

He never got sick of the sight of you naked, running his hands down your waist and to your hips while a deep sigh escaped his mouth. You watched his eyes focus in on your clit, with his thumb dancing around the area and causing your knees to grow weaker and weaker. Your hips bucked forward, and your motion only caused a light snicker to come from his mouth.

"Get on your fucking knees." He demanded as he pushed you down by your shoulder, although you were quick to follow his instructions and obey.

His length rested onto your left check, and his hand reached down to lift your chin to look up to him. He loved how submissive you looked before him. The way your eyes lit up to the sight of him bare in front of you, along with his devilish grin that captivated you.

He held your eyes with his own. "Good to know you're still such a good girl for me." That sentence had sent a shiver down your spine, with how intimidatingly dominant Jake was. There was something about his small, cracked smile, and the light squint in his eyes that always had you feeling shy and overexposed. Yet, you were always so comfortable being vulnerable around him.

He tapped at your jaw, which signaled for your mouth to open, and you allowed his thumb to travel onto your tongue, sliding the finger out and dragging your bottom lip down with the motion. You slid your hands over his thighs, kissing the head of his cock and slicing your tongue onto it. He groaned at the sensation and landed his hand on the back of your head in preparation.

And you grabbed his length, wrapping your lips around it and beginning to bob your head up and down at a slow pace. You took all of him for a moment to elicit a harsh groan - a response you craved hearing from Jake and pulled off his cock to purse your lips and spit onto his tip with your hand aiding you in coating him.

You immediately resumed bobbing your head up and down, while your hand at the base of him began working slowly with a twist of your wrist. He deeply sighed, looking down at you to see his cock disappear into your mouth. You were irresistible to him with the way you took him into your mouth so effortlessly.

"Fuck, just like that, y/n." He winced lightly as your tongue swirled around his tip. His mouth was slightly hung open as he admired the view of you below him. Hearing your name had never sounded better coming from someone's mouth.

The unoccupied hand of his landed at the side of your face with his thumb caressing at your cheek. He was being gentler with you than usual, which could only mean he intended to be rougher with you later on. You didn't mind the lack of degrading, though. It was good to soothe into things after being away from him for so long.

His breathing was deep, and the muscles at his stomach were tensed up as you quickened the pace of your mouth and hand. Your other hand massaged his balls lightly, which evoked a deep sigh from him. Hushed slurs drew from his lips as you worked your way up and down him, spit dribbling down your chin. The back of your throat fought against taking his whole length, but as long as he felt good, you could care less about your own pleasure. You loved to feel as though you belonged to him and were the only one making him feel this good.

His head was thrown back, while the hand that tousled with your hair on the back of your head had a harsher grip. It was as if he was innocently guiding you, but really, it was to steady himself as he cautiously bucked his hips into your movements. Jake had his bottom lip tucked behind his teeth, fighting against his own release so quickly.

He grabbed your hair and held it back for you, tugging you off of his cock and raising you up to your knees by the pad of his index finger resting under your chin.

"Think you deserve something in return, huh?" He said as his hands relaxed from their places and found your waist. The rhetorical question had you pressing your thighs tightly together with a whine trapped behind your closed mouth.

He was slow with his hands, letting them fall down to your hips, then scooping you off of the ground whilst you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you over to the long table that sat before a mirror, setting you down and immediately forcing your legs open for him. He was quick to step in between your legs and place a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your lips as his fingers traveled down your stomach and to your heat.

His right hand rested at the inner of your thigh, his thumb at your pubic bone and mere inches from your clit. He rested his forehead upon yours and listened intently to your unsteady, choked breaths, while he traced his index fingers and middle up and down your pussy agonizingly slow. Your back arched into him with a whine, closing your thighs together cautiously in hopes his fingers would caress you. But instead, he forced your thighs back open, and removed his forehead from yours with enough space to just barely see the entirety of your face.

"Don't. Fucking. Move. Be a good girl for me, yeah?" He glared at you, practically spitting in your face at your small movements in a silent plea to have him touch you. But you nodded vigorously. "If you want me to touch you, you're going to have to beg for it. Don't act like you have forgotten how this works."

The way he was looking at you was sending butterflies into the pit of your stomach, and it was nearly overwhelming to you how lust-filled his eyes were.

You threw your head back, sliding your right hand onto his bicep and sighing heavily with shut eyes. "Jake," you whined out, "please."

"Please what, y/n?" He urged you further. He loved playing this game.

You brought your head back up and looked at him in mere agony, desperately saying, "please touch me."

A devilish smirk twisted onto his lips as he flicked his eyes down to your pussy, leaning down and pursing his lips to allow spit to dribble from his mouth and onto your folds. As soon as the spit hit your pussy, he was gathering it onto middle and ring finger and locking his eyes onto yours. He captivated your attention just to mimic the way your mouth fell open as his fingers eased themselves into your entrance. He even repeated your deep exhales as his fingers curled inside of you and began to pump in and out of your entrance. You couldn't contain your moans and allowed them to fall out of your mouth while Jake admired your breathless state.

His calloused fingers added an extra layer of sensation to what you were feeling. He began kissing at your neck, humming onto the skin and trailing his mouth to your ear.

"Feel good, y/n?" He asked in a pitiful, mocking tone. He knew the answer, yet he wanted to hear you say it. Just another thing he did to control you and what you said.

"Yes, yes Jake." You moaned. "Please, don't stop."

He tugged at your earlobe and said, "so we do remember our manners, hm?" in a teasing tone.

Your hand reached for the back of his head as he continued to suck at your neck and travel down to your jugular. Your other hand was gripped tightly against the edge of the table to keep yourself upright while Jake meticulously drew every sound possible from you by his touch. His tongue flattened against the skin and slid its way up to your jaw. You never realized how deeply you missed Jake until you were finally with him.

You had your eyes shut with furrowed brows as you allowed your head to hang back. Every movement Jake made with his fingers, his mouth, his hand that found its way to your breast and massaged it - you were in euphoria. Only did he make you feel this good, and you made it known with your lack of words and preferred usage of pleasured sounds.

Then your eyes were shooting open and your fingers gripping harder at Jake's hair as you felt his tongue circle at your clit. You looked down at the sight, seeing him kneeled down before you as he devoured at your pussy. He hummed in satisfaction of the taste of you - sweet like honey, and your mouth hung open in an "O" shape, unable to utter a sound. Finally, an exaggerated groan rolled off of your tongue, and your head was able to be thrown back with your head fuzzy in ecstasy.

Your hand that rested at the back of his head landed back onto the table, clenching and unclenching, which Jake was quick to notice. His hand immediately found yours and folded his fingers into your own, giving you something to squeeze onto you. The small note of intimacy made you crack a small smile, but quickly allowing it to fade away as Jake grasped harshly onto your hip to keep you in place and reminding you where your focus should be.

He lapped at your folds as he kept a steady pace in and out of your pussy while your thighs squeezed tightly around his head. He switched between sucking at your clit and allowing his tongue to do all the work. You were grinding your hips to the motions of his tongue, and while normally you were ridiculed by him with a slap at your thigh, he allowed it after being away from one another so long.

You were clenching around his fingers, which elicited a pleased hum from him. He could tell you were close to your release, and that's exactly where he wanted you to be before stripping it away from you so suddenly. The tightened knot in the pit of your stomach completely dissolving, not unraveling, always had you whining in annoyance.

He flattened his tongue once more and dragged it up your pussy, then pushed himself up by slapping his hands on the tops of your thighs and levering himself that way.

You encapsulated your mouth onto his by bringing him with your hands harshly slapping against his face. He groaned into your lips with satisfaction, while you wrapped your hand around his length and began stroking it. At some points in moments like these, you felt like you just barely had some sort of dominance over Jake, and he was submitting to the pleasure you were granting him. He found it harder to kiss you back, resting his forehead against your own with eyes squeezed shut. As if anything you had asked him to do, he would without hesitation. And his face even showed how resistless he had become under your touch, contorting and softening with his eyebrows pulled in and mouth parted open.

You kept your eyes open to see the way his face shifted emotions, watching him grow restless with your position of being in charge. He wrapped his hand around your own and stopped your motions, looking down at his cock and focusing on lining himself up with your entrance. You quickly propped one of your legs up onto the table to allow easier access for him and impatiently waited. As spit dribbled down from his pursed lips and onto his cock, with a few more strokes, he was easing himself into you and resting his forehead onto your shoulder.

"Fuck, y/n," he drew out in a long breath as he was fully rested inside of you. He was slow pulling himself out, but quick to slam into you.

He raised his head off of your shoulder and met your eyes, seeing yours with the lids of them resting halfway, mouth opened in an 'O' shape with eyebrows softened. You made it known to him that you were all his - and always will be, but in this moment, you were whatever you needed him to be. Through your lust-filled brain you imprinted the memory of how perfect Jake feels inside of you, how he knows exactly where his fingers need to dance onto your skin, or where his hands should rest. He was wickedly talented at the art of pleasure, and he knew what made your body tick. He was in tune with your body, which he oh-so adored, and wasn't going to go anywhere until he felt satisfied enough.

You had one hand sprawled behind your back onto the table and the other on Jake's shoulder, throwing your head back as he slammed into you and rattled the items that lay astray on the tabletop. If anything were to fall, neither of you paid mind to it. What mattered was the sensations that ran throughout your entire being, your heartbeat increasing with every second, and your body accumulating a sweat that began at your hairline.

His breaths were heavy, daring to look at you while his pace increased. The corner of his lips curled into a malicious smirk, forcing your lips onto his by pushing your head towards him after landing the back of his hand in your damp hair. His other hand was placed beside your thigh to keep him up, but every once and a while, it would travel to the outer of your thigh and squeeze tightly.

Your kiss shared with him was a sloppy mess, with both of you breathing into each other's mouth and unable to contain your moans from sputtering out from your lips. His tongue danced alongst your own, toying with it before resting his back in his mouth and pulling from your lips to kiss your cheek. He reached your ear with his lips, tugging at your earlobe, and allowing you to hear his restless, guttural groans that tore at your core with pleasure.

"You're all mine, you know that?" He groaned to you. "Your pussy is for my pleasure only - no one else's. You understand?" He continued his fast-paced thrusts while borderline whispering these words to you.

You swallowed harshly, breathing out a small, "yes," as you were unable to utter anything else. It was already a battle enough to keep yourself quiet to minimize the noise anyone in the green room could hear, but yet, they all knew why you were with Jake. And frankly, Jake didn't care about the noise. In fact, he encouraged your cries of ecstasy. He demanded it from you.

He wrapped his hand around your neck tightly, forcing you to look at him as he withheld your breath.

"Say you understand, y/n. Say that you understand that no one else can have you but I." He breathed, lessening his tight grip around your neck to allow you to speak for him.

"I understand, Jake," you said as your eyes rolled back from the way Jake was thrusting into you, "I'm all yours."

You didn't have to refocus your eyes on him to know he was smirking - you could just hear his lips curl. Now he was quickly pulling himself out of you, and in a swift motion, lifting you off from the table and barely giving you time to land on your feet before turning you around and bending you over. You were face to face with yourself, seeing how your makeup had run, and your lips were swollen and darker tinted than normal.

But then you saw him, and how he looked from behind you. His eyes landed on your ass, and in a near second, you saw his hand raise and swat against the skin. You jumped with a light whimper trapping itself behind your lips as you bit down on your bottom lip. His eyes met yours, and there he was, giving you the smallest hint of a smile, and forcefully pushing himself all the way inside of you.

One of his hands rested at your hip with a harsh grip, and the other was at your shoulder while he watched the movement of your ass each time it hit against his stomach. He was entranced by the way your body moved, how good it felt to be inside of you, how perfect you looked fully exposed to him.

He whispered something near incoherent, but you were able to pick it up.

"Good, good fucking girl. That's it, baby." He said as he kept his eyes locked on your rear. You watched his lips drop open, his hair moving with his motions and his eyebrows softening and furrowing with each sensation that drove through his body. He grabbed at your ass once more, giving you another swat to make sure he would leave his mark on you as if the bruises caused by his mouth weren't already stained onto your body.

You moaned his name, begging him not to stop as he was hitting the spot you craved to be caressed the most. You dared to reach your fingers down to your clit to reach your orgasm, but as your hand began to make its way there, Jake immediately caught on, and grabbed ahold of your hair and tugged you far back enough to where your back arched away from his chest.

"Greedy now, are we?" His hand from your hair released itself to forcefully grasp your throat with his pointer finger and thumb harshly pressed at your jaw to look towards him. You didn't know what to respond with, other than to rest your hands onto the edge of the table and allowing your knuckles to turn white.

You dared to hold eye contact with him, and he squeezed your cheeks with the intent of forcing your mouth open and spitting onto your tongue. You swallowed the substance without thought, looking at him as you raised one hand to hold onto the side of his face. And the grip he had onto your face wasn't harsh enough, because you felt your head turn forward and lean back with a loud moan as your orgasm grew closer, and the pads of his fingers rubbed vigorous circles onto your clit.

"Greedy little whore." He whispered into your ear, looking at you through the mirror. He watched the way your breasts bounced, how your body twitched, how you were nearly unresponsive with the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You truly were all his.

"Jake, please," you begged quietly. There were more words you wanted to say, but they had fizzled and left your mind, and you could only focus on the way Jake was pumping in and out of you at a quickened pace.

Strands of his hair began to stick to his cheeks, and his silver necklaces that he had on left a cold sting onto your back as they would barely graze the skin. Every single sense in your body had become heightened and intensified, along with your entire body tensing up that had your entire body running hot. All you could do was chase your release, to tune into the intoxicating sensation of Jake delivering as much pleasure to you as possible.

"God, I'm gonna cum." He warned as his thrusts became inconsistent, yet perfectly paced to reach his high. "Gonna cum with me?"

There was only one answer to that question, and he knew that. But hearing you say it helped send him over the edge. It helped him feel more in control of your orgasm. Hell, you were surprised your release hadn't overtaken you yet.

"Yes, Jake, just please, don't stop." You moaned.

And as you felt the tight knot unravel in your stomach, you began to fall forward with your legs trembling, and Jake coming to your aid by bracing his arm across your chest as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s it darling,” he soothed, “there you go.”

His head fell forward as he finished inside of you, draining himself fully and leaving himself with a heaving chest. His arm fell from your chest and landed his hand on top of yours on the edge of the table, with the other hand teasing at your sensitive clit once more just to feel you twitch a final time around him.

After you nearly grabbed his wrist to move it away from the overstimulation, he landed his hand onto your waist, and stayed inside of you for a moment. His eyes found yours in the mirror, and he pressed a soft, long kiss onto your cheek.

"You okay?" He said to you.

"Yes, yes I'm okay," you giggled, "more than okay."

He chuckled at your statement. "Just making sure." He said as he looked at you.

His lips traveled onto your neck with soft, relaxed kisses, reaching to the end of your shoulder and stopping there as he pulled himself from you. You tried to turn around to face him, but as he saw your legs nearly give out, he came to wrap his hands around your waist, and keep you on your feet. If it weren't for the warm liquid dripping down onto the insides of your thighs, you would have forgotten that Jake had finished inside of you.

After seeing that animalistic side of him, you had nearly forgotten how caring he was, and how important it was to him to tend to you after practically using your body. And while one hand stayed at the small at your back, the other raised to your cheek, and his thumb softly swiped against it in a back-and-forth motion.

You two allowed each other to catch your breaths, keeping your eyes locked onto his and smiling at him softly in your hazed state.

"Do you want to stay after for a bit before you head off?" He said to you, finally having his breathing under control.

"Don't want me to stay over for the night, or are you already sick of me?" You said to him with a knowing grin.

He chuckled at your response and placed a soft kiss onto your lips. "Go on and get dressed and we'll head back to mine when you're ready to, alright?"

You nodded at him and began to clean yourself up, which he helped with, then aiding him, and getting dressed to make yourself presentable to walk out of the dressing room and accept the stares from the rest of the band and any of their team members who witnessed the sounds that erupted from Jake's dressing room.

But they all knew why you were there. After all, you were Jake's personal groupie. And you enjoyed the lifestyle. You enjoyed Jake, and he enjoyed you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

taglist:

@hollyco @songbirds-sweet @ageofhearingloss @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @bluee07 @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @gvfgal @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @threadthatssacred @indigofallingsky @audgeppp @sinarainbows @brujamagik @bowievanfleet @laneygvf @idontlikelizards @josh-iamyour-mama @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jaketswine @jjwasneverhere @mulberrimouse @starcatcher-jake @lallisonl @jordie-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf

65 notes · View notes

tevanbegins · 18 hours

Text

Look at this awesome man. Lou Ferrigno Jr. An all-round class act and incredible actor who is bringing Tommy Kinard to life on our screens in a way no one else could. As he himself said in some cameo of his, he brings positive energy to whatever room he walks into. He doesn't let other people's bad days affect his vibe. It's no wonder he only sees the profound love we fans have for him and nothing else. So, let's give him more of it and miss no opportunity to express our appreciation for the heart and soul he pours into playing Tommy. I'm ever so grateful that the stars aligned and he agreed to return to the show for this storyline, and also to Tim Minear for his creative genius. Tommy coming back to 9-1-1 is something I never knew I wanted but everything I needed, and the pure joy that this unexpected surprise has been bringing me ever since knows no bounds. I hope Tommy and Buck's relationship continues to develop and thrive, and we get to see much more of Tommy as the series continues because he is a captivating character by himself too. This storyline and representation has had a positive impact on so many of us, and all the people involved in making this happen deserve to know about how important it is to us. None of that other toxic fandom nonsense that goes on matters. Only our love matters, and that it reaches Lou/Tommy wherever and whenever it can! ❤🏳‍🌈

Just got a little emotional on seeing Lou thanking the fans in this new cast reel and thought of sharing this bit. 🥰

120 notes · View notes

slytherinshua · 2 days

Text

STARLIGHT IN YOUR EYES : boynextdoor medieval headcanons pt 2.

how they convey their love to you.

genre. fluff. medieval au. secret relationship (sungho). intentions of marriage (riwoo). warnings. reader is a princess. mention of execution in sungho's. kissing. pairing. sungho&riwoo x princess!reader (separate). wc. 800. request. requested by anon: heyy! i still haven’t gotten over the bnd medieval headcannons, can u please do more of these or seperate imagines for each member?? a/n. lmk if you want the other members as well for now i just did sungho and riwoo since i wanted to expand on their scenarios but i'd love to do the rest of the members as well!!

pt 1 (ot6) here!!

SUNGHO: THE PERSONAL GUARD

sungho was always a clever man, one who thought through things carefully and rarely acted on impulse

his nature made him an excellent guard, but often a lacking lover

his devotion to you was never in question, but his propensity to err on the safe side clashed with both of your longing hearts

there was nothing easy about maintaining a secret relationship with your personal guard, but the hardships you went through always proved to be worth it in the end

sungho couldn't risk showing you affection while in public at all, and while you could get away with a little more than he could without being questioned, you followed suit with his caution to avoid any unwanted consequences

it wasn't for lacking of wanting that sungho refrained from any hint of affection for you in the presence of others

it killed him inside every time he had to act as if he didn't know you better than anyone else in the room

he didn't even dare to try to hold your hand behind your back or place his hand on your shoulder

no matter how much he longed to feel your skin under his, even the slightest physical touch would get caught by the other guards in an instant

they were always on alert for intruders, and that included the palace staff

in order to keep his crucial position of protecting the princess, sungho was forced to act as professional as possible

but there was still one way that he could convey how he felt without getting caught by anyone

and that was in his eyes

only you could catch how his cold gaze softened whenever he looked at you, his dark eyes sparkling with love and adoration

his longing for you was evident in his eyes, and even just a glimpse at his gleaming eyes filled your entire heart

his reputation was at stake as much as yours, and you were both heavily aware of that

if the news that one of the most trusted and skilled guards of the palace was caught in an illicit love story with the princess, he was sure to be banished or even executed for it

so sungho took no risks and did his best to ignore his heart's longing

if only things were different, he would be able to hold you and profess his love for you for as many hours of the day as he could

but as things were now, he had to be content with fleeting glances and precious moments shared together in the privacy of the gardens or your bed chamber

those were the only areas of the palace far away from the preening eyes of the maids or sentries

SANGHYEOK: THE DUKE

sanghyeok's respected position within society allowed him to visit you freely

his courtship with you was adored by both the public and your own parents, and he was very clear in his intentions both to them and to you

sanghyeok never left you with any doubt that he was the man you would spend the rest of your life with

regardless of whether it were fancy balls thrown in your name or sincere words he professed to you privately, you were assured of his love for you

you were no stranger to noblemens' commitment to win over your heart, but never before had you sensed such earnestness as with sanghyeok

he was sincere and everything he did overflowed with honesty and affection for you

you could trust sanghyeok, and knowing that made you fall even more in love with him

as much as he showed his feelings for you, you reciprocated equally

you had rarely cared about looking pretty for a man, none of your past suitors had brought out any want in you to impress them

but you did for sanghyeok

for the first time, you were excited to try on new extravagant ball gowns and jewelry, picturing his reaction when he saw you wearing them

how he would tell you just how stunning you looked in them, how you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on

while you loved hearing his compliments and seeing his cheeks dusting a soft pink just from your mere presence, your favourite moments with sanghyeok would always be when you were dancing with him

you had been courting him for months now, but dancing with him still felt as thrilling as it always had

how gently he held you, swaying and twirling to the elegant waltzes and minuets the royal symphony played for the public's enjoyment

and when the music slowed, signaling its finish, he would gracefully dip you, not wasting his chance to press a gentle kiss to your lips

from the first to last dance you ever took with sanghyeok, you were sure your heart would continue to hum with warmth from his pure smile, soft eyes, and gentle kisses

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @blossominghunnie,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,

@talkingsaxy

63 notes · View notes

gweathney-propaganda · 3 days

Text

The Aquatics AU lore dump

hhhhhh gang its finally here!!!!!! fsh au time!!!!!!! (warning: i wrote a lot lol)

Lore background:

This au takes place in the modern day, rather than in the show's time, 2007. In this au, ‘mermaids’ are real. Well, kind of. There is a variant of humans called Aquatics. They were created after a group of prehistoric humans went and became very avid water hunters. Thus, evolution kicked in and through natural selection, came the variant that we know today. Aquatics often will exhibit physical features and behaviors from certain species of water known hunters, such as fish, mammals, amphibians, etc. Before the Industrial Revolution, starting just after the rise of complex civilizations (during B.C.E.), humans and Aquatics often got along with one another, as there are many pieces of evidence pointing to humans and Aquatics having a friendly relationship. But after the rise of urbanization, the relationship quickly fell apart as humans no longer needed Aquatics to traverse and hunt in the ocean. Many Aquatics were killed, but the Aquatic Safety Pact of 1996 stopped the killing of Aquatics for good. At least to the public’s view.

Territories:

There are 7 main Territories that Aquatics inhabit in the ocean. The Deep, Arctic, Antarctic, the Norse Orentiem, the Norse Occidens, the Meridiem Orentiem, and the Meridiem Occidens.

Lore between the territories:

The Deep and other territories do not share a good relationship. They have often had fights and wars between them, due to the superstitious belief that Aquatics from The Deep are dangerous and rabid, and not to be trusted. Many Aquatics who often travel through The Deep and/or are seen interacting positively with Aquatics from The Deep are often looked down on. Hence Aquatics from there don’t tend to travel to other territories, and could be seen as following a pact of isolationism. Other relationships with the other territories are often mutual, except for the territories who share borders, who often have very close bonds with one another.

Aquatic Dialect:

Aquatic dialects are very different from human dialects. Rather than using sounds and syllables to speak, Aquatics use chirps, hums, and clicks to communicate between one another. But there are slight differences between dialects in certain territories. The Norse Orentiem territory’s dialects are more guttural, using the bottom of the larynx to speak and communicate, creating more bellows and roars. The eastern side of the Norse Occidens uses more high pitched sounds, creating a whistling kind of dialect. The Deep is the most varied though, the dialects often being much different, even within different families and clans. But Aquatics are able to speak human dialect, their body having two different sets of lungs to speak and breathe both above and underwater. All Aquatics do learn some form of human language, depending on which countries they live closest to, in case of need.

General Aquatic behavior:

Aquatics are scavengers in nature, often taking from the remnants of human society, such as shipwrecks, lost materials, etc. While certain aspects of Aquatic society are not as developed as normal human society, they do excel at being adaptive in their environments, some being able to live in the most dangerous of places without much effort. Aquatics are also curious by nature, wanting to understand and analyze the environments they inhabit. It’s common to see Aquatics have piles and piles of trinkets they like, either in neat and organized spaces or just thrown about. They are also skilled hunters, the most ancient of Aquatic societies being able to excel at most things that humans still struggle with. They can use their claws or teeth, but they have also been seen carving their own weapons to hunt more easily.

Leviathans:

Leviathans are special, in the sense that it can be caused by a hidden recessive gene in every Aquatics body. If an Aquatic is born with the Leviathan gene as the dominant gene, they will start to show odd signs during preteen age. In a way most compared to Lycanthropy in humans, they will show signs of accelerated growth and an increase in bioluminescence, even if their species does not have bioluminescence. This happens during random times of each month, ranging from only a couple hours to a few days. As the Aquatic grows and matures, the Leviathan form only develops more and more, forming into a much larger version of themself, with vibrant bioluminescence scattered all over their body. Fully grown Leviathans can be up to 225 feet long, dwarfing any normal Aquatic in size. Leviathans are not aggressive in nature, but are more so dormant and quiet, often hiding in large underwater caves for the duration of their transformation. There is a history of a stigma against Aquatics who are Leviathans, some have been reported to be chained up and abused in specific cases. Those cases are rare though, and do not happen to most Leviathans.

Depth Sickness:

Depth Sickness is caused when an Aquatic, who’s body is not adapted for sudden change in water depth and pressure, goes higher or deeper than its limits. Depth Sickness can cause headaches, nausea, vomiting, brain fog, dizziness, and blurry vision. It is only temporary though, as the body takes time to adapt to the new pressure. Not all Aquatics can suffer Depth Sickness, as either they’re bodies are naturally immune to the effects, or have a lack of sensory in their nerves. It is very rare for the latter to happen though.

Aquatics relationship with humans:

The relationship between Aquatics and humans has changed tremendously throughout history. During the early 14th century, Aquatics and humans shared a more mutual relationship, helping one another out with tasks and giving each other materials to survive. But after The Aquatic Massacre of 1387, there was a sudden rise in Aquatic killings and hunts, many Aquatic corpses were hung in small towns as a sign of power and respect. Aquatics were more so seen as trophies and animals to be hunted, causing a loss of mutual respect for both Aquatics and humans. This stayed like this for multiple centuries until the Aquatic Safety pact of 1996 made the hunting and killing of Aquatics illegal and punishable by death in most countries. There is an underbelly of groups who illegally hunt and kill Aquatics, either for sport or consumption. But the relationship between Aquatics and humans are slowly healing as they begin to rebuild their relationship once again.

Anyways onto DA LIST

List of known Aquatics:

Gwen - Dragonfish

Heather - Koi

Duncan - Anglerfish

Courtney - Porcupine Fish

Bridgette - Parrotfish

Geoff - Seahorse

Alejandro - Gulper Eel

Ezekiel - Isopod

Owen - Manatee

Eva - Blue Lobster

Noah - Pistol Shrimp

Cody - Dumbo Octopus

Katie - Convict Cichlid

Sadie - Black and White Snapper

Tyler - Red Snapper

Beth - Hedgehog Seahorse

Lindsay - Mantis Shrimp

Leshawna - Sperm Whale

Sierra - Man of War

DJ - Humpback Whale

Harold - Swordfish

Izzy - Barracuda

Justin - Silver Angelfish

Trent - Reef Manta Ray

andddd thats it!!! feel free to ask anything about this au, ive been wanting to talk about it for YEARS now lol

also uh pls pls pls reblog it it would mean so much to me if you did; and if you read all the way here, reblog with a fish emoji :)

53 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 6 hours

Text

with me + part eight

authors note: wow, you guys just keep on amazing me. all of the kind comments really do make my day, you have no idea. the beginning of this one is heavy, but i'm gradually working towards exposing more of reader and joe's backstories!!!

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst (parental neglect, abandonment) language, suggestive themes

words: 6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“It’s been almost a year, babe.” His tone is the perfect combination of understanding yet frustrated, like he’s trying his best to be patient but his needs are getting the best of him. “You still not ready?”

You wanted someone to talk to for the drive, even if it was only an hour, but at this moment, you’re regretting choosing your boyfriend.

“I just….I want to be really sure, okay?”

This has been the latest conversation between the two of you, more a point of contention. You care about Amir, you love him, but there’s something about letting him take your virginity you’re still a bit unsure about. Maybe it’s the fact that you just turned 16 three months ago and still feel like you’re a bit on the young side to take that next step. Or maybe it’s the fact that you guys have been rocky, almost since the beginning, having your fair share of arguments, even makeups and breakups.

But, you also know that even with the ups and downs, a year deep for a high school relationship is almost unheard of. That has to mean something.

“I love you, and you love me, right?”

You check the rearview mirror and switch lanes. “Of course.”

“So let’s seal the deal.”

A glance at the navigation makes you aware that you’re roughly ten minutes away from your destination. Instantly, your stomach begins to twist and knot. And like many with anxiety, it comes out as anger.

“Look, can you please just stop pressuring me?” You snap. “I feel like that’s all you ever want to talk about.”

“Whoa, whoa, where’s all this attitude coming from?” He, understandably, becomes defensive. A small part of you feels bad, taking your nerves out on him, even if it’s not entirely undeserved. It has become an annoying, frequent hot topic. “Am I wrong for wanting to be close to my girlfriend?”

“Bullshit. You just want to get your dick wet.”

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t be asking you,” he retorts, arrogantly. “I can get pussy anywhere.”

That’s the wrong thing to say, obviously, because you angrily fire back, “fine, then go do that and leave me and my pussy alone!”

He sucks his teeth on the other side. “I’ll talk to you when you not in one of your bitch moods. Must be on your period or something.”

“Fuck you, Amir.”

The phone disconnects.

He hung up.

Frustrated, for a lot of reasons, you squeeze the steering wheel and curse, loudly. This isn’t what you needed. You’re regretting not calling Mariah instead. You’re starting to regret this decision altogether but work to remind yourself why you’re doing it, why you want to do it. Amir and his shit be damned. He’ll always be there, and you’ll figure the shit out, like you always do.

Right now though, you need to focus on yourself and your plan.

So, you spend the rest of your time driving by feeding positive mantras into yourself in an attempt to bleed out the negativity.

It’s especially needed when you finally arrive at your destination, parking your car as far back in the parking lot as you can. You blow out a big, deep breath, keeping your hands on the steering wheel as it really sets in that you’re doing this, finally doing something you’ve wanted since you got your license but have been too scared to follow through on.

It’s going to be a daunting task no matter what, but it’s what you want, and you’ve come too far to back out now.

Shaky hands reach to pull down the sun visor so you can use the mirror to assess your makeup and hair. You’d saved up your paychecks to afford this 14k gold necklace the local jeweler had gotten in stock and kindly agreed to hold until you could afford it. You just wanted to look your best.

You needed to look your best.

Blowing out another breath, you reach to spray another layer of your trial size perfume. It was some expensive ass designer fragrance that smelled sinfully sweet, but the trial one was all you could afford.

Climbing out of the car with your best bag, you make sure to lock the door and start heading toward the entrance, offering a few small smiles to the cops you pass by.

Stepping into the precent, you march right up to the front desk with your head held high.

“Hi,” you breathe, pasting on that rehearsed smile. “I—umm, is Captain Wilson available?”

“Uhhhh.” She stands up and looks back, most likely where his office is. “I believe so, can I ask what this is in regards to?”

Crap. You hadn’t thought about what to say, how to explain how you knew him. Quickly, you settle on, “old family friend.”

She assesses you, probably wondering why their police captain is family friends with a high schooler.

Thankfully, she nods and moves from behind the desk to escort you. “Follow me.”

You’re briefly relieved that the first part is done, far from the hardest but necessary for you to actually get to the hard part.

She knocks on the open door. “Captain?”

He looks up, and your stomach drops.

Years.

It’s been years since you’ve seen him, been this close in proximity. He’s older, obviously, but still very similar to how you remembered him all those years ago. He looks at you for a second, clearly confused and then at the woman.

“She said she’s a family friend.”

Nervous that this will mess up your plan, you interrupt, “I—I need to speak with you, please.”

The woman turns to you. “I thought you said—”

He lifts his hand, standing up. “It’s fine, Yang.” He motions to the door. “Leave us.”

You can feel her distasteful expression on you, but she follows his command, closing the door behind you.

“Well, how can I help you, young lady?”

It's such a loaded question, but you came prepared, ready to jump right to the point. Don't want to waste any time.

"I, well, I'm—" Chuckling, you reach into your bag and pull out the old picture of your mom you kept in your locker. Opening and showing it to him, you watch his entire facial expression shift from friendly to shocked. "I'm your—"

“What are you doing here?” There’s a sudden change in his tone, even in his body posture, less friendly, more hostile. Clearly, he recognizes you.

“I—” The answer is simple yet difficult to get out, but you manage. “I wanted to meet my father.”

He suddenly asks, accusingly. “Did your mother put you up to this?”

“What?” Frowning, you explain, “no, no, she—she doesn’t even know I’m here. No one does.”

“Good,” he mutters. “Listen—”

“I’m 16 now,” you interject, suddenly remembering the list of things you wanted to share with him, wanted him to know about you. “And I’m—I’m captain of my school’s cheerleading squad. Took my team to state last year. I’ve had a couple of scouts from colleges reach out already.”

“Listen—”

“And I just got my SAT scores back. I got a 1400. A 32 on my ACT. That puts me in the top 10% of the nation for both of them.”

“Is there a reason you’re telling me all of this?”

“I thought—” This is going the complete opposite of how you planned, how you hoped. You expected him to be confused and surprised, but you didn’t expect this level of disinterest and aggravation. Like you’re annoying him. Like you’re bothering him. “I thought if—if you saw me, if you met me and see I’m not a bad kid that—that maybe you’d want a relationship with me.”

“A relationship?” He scoffs, actually fucking scoffs. “Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.”

Of all the things to say—cruel, hurtful, mean—you’re not sure just what to label this. Because it’s almost inconceivable to you that he could say such a thing while looking directly at you, as if you’re not his blood. As if you’re not his daughter.

“I—” Any hope or confidence you had is all but squashed underneath the weight of his cruelty. “I’m your daughter.”

“No, you are a mistake that I paid your mother to take care of.” He turns away, one hand on his hip, the other running his hand over his face. “Biggest waste of money I ever spent.”

Devastated. It’s the closest word you can use to describe what you’re feeling right now, all over, in every crevice of your body. You never knew a person could feel so much pain at one time.

That a heart could feel so heavy.

“How—”

“Honey—”

Turning your head, you see a woman dressed in fine clothes, adorned in real, 14k or more jewelry, and a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes when she sees the Captain isn’t alone. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

You’re unsure how to answer, especially when you notice the big rock on her finger. It doesn’t take much to realize this must be his wife. The same woman he cheated on with your mother and unintentionally created you.

“Not at all,” he answers with a chuckle. You watch with a twisted stomach as she walks over to him, kissing his cheek. He smiles at her with such adoration, such happiness, a complete contrast with the disgust and disdain he sent your way. “I was just telling this young lady there’s nothing we can do for her.”

Young lady. That’s all you are to him, and it was stupid of you to trick yourself into believing otherwise. If he could go sixteen years without once asking or inquiring about you, he could go another sixteen. Another 100. You weren’t a part of his world, didn’t exist there, and you never would.

“Dad, Elijah won’t get out of the car. I swear, you should have kept me an only—” Another person enters the room and also stops mid-sentence. “---child.” An identical set of brown eyes land on you, eyes that he has, that you have. The similarities don’t stop there. Nose, lips, even bone structure to some extent, age. “Oh, my bad. Dad, who’s—”

You never give her the chance to finish or yourself the chance to hear the rest of her question. Rushing past her as well as the other cops in the precinct who surprisingly don’t try to stop you, you don’t allow your feet to rest until you’re in the safety of your car.

And that’s when it finally comes out.

The guttural, vulnerable scream that you’ve been holding in. You beat at the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the horn. You beat at that thing until your wrist aches and fist grows tired. Nearly hyperventilating, the sob erupts from your throat, almost your entire body shaking from the intensity. You’ve never felt so awful in your life, so empty, so unwanted and unloved.

It’s the kind of pain that’s so visceral you can only understand if you’ve felt it, and no one deserves to feel this.

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You feel it, and more, for bringing yourself down here and making a fool of yourself.

A family.

He has a whole family. He already has children, has a daughter who’s close in age. A daughter he loves and whose life he wants to be involved in.

And it’s not you.

It’s never been you, and it’ll never be you.

Finally, you understand why your mom always shot down or redirected any attempt you made to ask about your dad. It was for this reason. This is what she was trying to protect you from, and you idiotically ran right into the line of fire.

Immensely grateful you had the wherewithal to park as far back as you could, you sit there for who knows how long, screaming, crying, heartbroken, avoiding what’s sure to be the longest drive home of your life.

There’s such an intolerable level of discomfort at this, this pain, this hurt. You don’t want to feel it, don’t want to sit in it. You can’t. You’re not sure if you can continue to function in this state.

You need a distraction.

And you have the perfect one. Whatever development has occurred in the prefrontal cortex is nonexistent and inactive as you dig in your purse for your phone.

With shaky fingers, you send him a simple text, knowing he’ll know exactly what you mean.

Tonight. Let’s do it tonight.

________

Three days after her emergency surgery, Calista was officially discharged from the hospital, allowing her to be home with you just in time for Thanksgiving. Not that that ended up being anything to write home about. You opted to stay home with her, aiding in her recovery as your mom came over to drop off some food and assist in nursing your sweet little girl back to health.

It was much appreciated, especially as Joe had to leave the day before she was released, much to his and Callie’s chagrin. She loved the company of you, even your mom, but she especially loved being around and with Joe.

Not that he was any different. You could see how much it killed him to have to leave her when she was still admitted in a hospital, so you had to continue to remind him that the hardest part was over. Ironic considering how grounded he kept you in that terrifying experience.

Joe’s promise of returning for Christmas was the only thing that kept Callie slightly less disappointed. She loves Christmas, and him being there for her favorite holiday will definitely mean a lot to her. You know she just hates having to wait so long to see him again. It’s safe to say she’s pretty attached to him, which warms your heart and makes you even more eager for her to finally realize that Joe is not just Joe.

He’s her dad.

And speaking of daddy, your dynamic with Joe has been both different yet the same. There’s always been this chemistry between you two, but it seems him finally admitting he wants to be with you and your finally acknowledging that it's something you’re willing to consider has given him privilege to up the ante.

He’s always been forward with you, but it’s been subtle, if at all present, since his return.

That's no longer the case.

He makes his comments and innuendos, always appropriate and respectful enough to not warrant pushback. But, it’s still there.

And you like it, way more than you should for someone who doesn’t even know how she feels about any of this to begin with.

“I have an idea.”

Th comment comes from the very person who you summoned to help with said ambivalence chimes with that mischievous smile that almost got you both kicked out of school at least two times.

Alexis Palmer stands on the opposite side of the kitchen, a bottle of vodka in one hand and another unidentified alcoholic beverage in the other. To say you summoned her may be a bit of an exaggeration. You emailed her, yes, but you didn’t except her to actually fly across the world to come visit you. Apparently, she was in Norway when she received your email.

“You couldn’t not expect me to come. You sent out the bestie bat signal!”

The first time you met Alexis, you hated her. She was your assigned roommate who you had the displeasure of meeting during move in week. A large part of your disdain for her was because she represented everything you’d always found utterly annoying: rich, entitled, privileged.

You’d quickly find out that was only partially true. Yes, Alexis came from money, but that was essentially all she came from. You’ll never forget the time you two were actually having a decent conversation and she casually mentioned that neither of her parents had ever told her happy birthday before. Ever.

Even your mom, though not having much, made sure to make the most of all of your special days.

That was the first day you started to see our roommate in a different light, and now, over ten years later, you consider her a best friend. If Alexis didn’t spend her life randomly traveling to various parts of the world, living comfortably off her trust fund money, you’d absolutely be much closer.

But until, or if, she gets tired of always being on the go, you settle for email updates and countless snapchat messages because WIFI is a wonderfully universal thing when compared to international texting and call fees.

Alexis's partially drunk ass skips out of the kitchen, clearly going to retrieve something as you take a moment to check your phone. It took a moderate level of convincing for you to agree to Callie spending a day or two with your mom, not that you didn’t believe she wouldn’t be in the best care. It was just some lingering anxiety from your baby being hospitalized, that mother’s fear of something happening in your absence and you not being there to comfort her.

But, your mom brought up a valid point, that you’d spend almost nonstop time with Callie since her discharge, and that was fine. You loved spending time with you little girl, but you also needed some time for yourself. Some adult interaction, and Alexis' surprise visit created the perfect opportunity.

So, that brings you to your current scenario, having an in-house girl night with your college roommate, drinking wine (harder liquor for her) and figuring out just what the fuck you’re doing with your non-existent love life.

When Alexis turns with one of your poster boards, you protest, “Lex, those are for my students.”

She gives you the most disgusted look. “Girl, fuck them kids. If it’s not my sweet Cal Gal, I don’t care.”

Knowing good and well this is a losing battle, you let it go and watch as she lays the poster board on the kitchen island and pulls out a sharpie.

“What are you—”

She lifts a finger, silencing you as she continues to write. Shaking your head, you take another sip of your wine.

Alexis is done in a matter of a few minutes and finally prompts you to look. “Okay, all done.”

It’s in reading what she’s created that you nearly drop your wine glass. “Lex, what is this?”

She rolls her eyes, pointing with the sharpie to the title. “Obviously, it’s the ‘figure out who I should be with’ chart. Created by yours truly!”

You blink a couple times. “Alexis, why is Kai’s name up here? He was a high school hookup.”

“Yes, but still a hookup nonetheless, so he makes the cut.” Lord as much as you missed Alexis, you’d almost forgotten how draining her eccentric ways can be. “Now, as you can see, each option has a pros and cons column. I say we start with the pros, and I’ll even help you out.”

“Should I be scared?”

She pauses. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head, you wait for her to quickly jot down whatever she objectively believes is considered a pro. But, when she turns the poster around, you actually laugh. “Oh my god.”

She’s written only in Joe’s pro column, but it’s more what she has written that has you humored.

“Obviously, at number one, we have 'big dick' because that's the most important thing in life. Never commit to a micro-penis.”

Ignoring the latter part of her statement, you ask, “big dick? Really?”

“Is it a lie?” She challenges. You open your mouth and immediately close it, taking another sip of wine. “I rest my case.” Yeah, you definitely can’t fight that one. “Wait, is he the one you tried anal with that one time?”

You nearly spit out your wine, for a couple of reasons. You'd never really considered yourself a feminist, but you were definitely someone who believed in women being free sexual beings. You never subscribed to that modesty bullshit. Sex was fun to you, and you liked it. You definitely considered yourself more on the freaky side. Outside of the really weird shit and threesomes, you were down to try whatever. Especially with Joe. Well, except for that. “Absolutely not. He’s too big. That shit already hurts, hence why it was one and done.”

Confused, she asks. “Who was it then?”

“Amir,” you answer, casually. Alexis, being Alexis, was pretty much the same as you when it came to embracing sexuality, hence speaking so openly about your sex lives.

She turns up her nose. “Yuck. Okay, back to Big Dick Joe.” After over 10+ years of friendship, you’ve learned, to some extent, certain things Alexis says just have to be chalked up to being a part of who she is. Like this entire activity that you’re for some reason entertaining. “Now get back to naming!”

You shrug, thinking about it, even if there’s not much to think about. “I mean, we have a child together already.”

“Oh damn, forgot about that,” she mutters and quickly adds Callie to the list of pros. “Sorry, Cal.”

This isn’t necessarily a difficult task. You’re pretty sure you could talk for 30 minutes straight about all of the reasons you like Joe. “He’s kind, smart, easy to talk to, an amazing dad to Callie.”

She downs the last of her concoction before shouting out, “oooh, don’t forget rich!”

Your eyes lift to the ceiling as you shrug, genuinely uninterested. “You know I don’t care about that.”

“You will when it’s time for Callie to go to college,” she ‘sings’, adding it to the board. “Fine as fuck,” Alexis talks aloud while writing the same thing. “Like very fine. As in you should have asked if his wife could fight fine because the way I never would have asked that man to leave—”

“Alexis.”

“Sorry.” She’s really not. “Why don’t we switch gears? How about we do the pros for Amir? Or even Kai?” You open your mouth to respond when she cuts you off. “Couldn’t think of any? Me neither. Back to Joe, it is.”

You run your hand against the side of your face, elbow on the section of the island that’s not occupied by the poster board. “Seriously, Alexis. There’s nothing there for Kai. At all. Hell, Amir neither.”

It’s like a light goes off, like all of her efforts have finally proved fruitful. The entirety of her eccentricity minimizes to something calm and considerate. “Exactly.” Laying down the poster, she comes and sits in the bar seat next to you. “You don’t like Amir. You definitely don’t like Kai. But, you do like Joe. Maybe more, though I’m not sure you’re ready to actually admit that out loud.” Much like a lot of what she says, though usually cloaked underneath her quirkiness, she’s correct. “So, what’s the real issue, roomie? It was his wife before, which I totally understood. You’re a moral person and shit. But now? He’s divorced, Y/N. You two have a child you’re trying to raise together. What’s holding you back?”

It’s a very, very valid question that you have no idea how to answer. You’ve tried, to some extent, to explore what your hesitations are. It hasn’t been high on the priority list due to your being focused on nursing Callie back to health, but as she’s on the mend to a full recovery, if not already at the eve of one, you know you’re gonna have to figure this shit out. Preferably sooner than later.

Joe will respect your need for time and space, but you also know he can be a persistent bastard, especially when it’s something or someone he wants.

It’s how ya’ll even got together in the first place.

“I’m gonna say something, and I don’t want you to bite my head off. Just hear me out. Let me put this expensive ass psych degree to use.” That makes you chuckle, but you remain quiet, allowing her to continue. “I think….I think whatever the situation is with your dad might be at play here.” Instantly, you're stiff, any hint of a smile or humor gone. “I don’t know exactly what happened outside of the fact that he’s not in your life, but something tells me there’s something there that you need to face.” And if she wasn’t already hitting you where it hurts, she adds on, “and I think it had something to do with why you didn’t tell Joe about Callie from the very beginning.”

Alexis has always had this uncanny ability to make you wonder if there’s something possibly mentally wrong with her and in the same breath wonder why the hell she didn’t decide to pursue a higher degree in psychology because of her sage wisdom.

This is one of those moments.

You know there’s some element of truth to what she’s saying, some layers behind events you’d pushed so far back in your head, you tried to convince yourself they didn’t still impact you.

But opening that box…..it’s hard for you to justify doing so. To understand why you need to revisit such uncomfortable, painful memories. You’re gonna be 32 years old next year. You’re too damn old to still be dealing with daddy issues.

Reaching for the bottle of wine, you pour some into your glass, noticeably more than the first one. “Maybe.”

Alexis also knows you well enough to know that a dismissal was bound to be your approach to such a heavy topic. “Is that the sign to change subjects, even though that’s literally why you asked me to come?"

“Technically, you invited yourself.”

“Bullshit,” she snorts. “You send that wild ass email and expect me to not book it back here to make sure my favorite twerk partner isn’t Gucci?” She suddenly asks, “wait, do people still say that?”

“Probably not. We’re old and outdated now.”

“Speak for yourself, I had a 24 year old Frenchman eat me out last month, and it was C'est Magnifique,” she sighs, clearly reminiscing as you turn up your nose.

“Too young for me, girl.” Younger men have never done anything for you, even Amri, who was a grade above you, felt too close in age.

“That’s right,” she nods, and you just know there’s something on the tip of her tongue. “You like em’ older. Samoan, tatted, with massive arms and big dicks.”

“Alexis.” You have to laugh, leaning into her side and laying your head on her shoulder. “I’ve missed you, girl.” You needed this, the time and space to be silly, to have difficult yet important conversations, to both think and not think. Alexis has always been that really great space for you, Mariah for even longer, but given your last interactions with her, you realize she’s not exactly the best candidate at the moment.

And as if reading your mind, she asks, “how’s ole girl doing?”

Ole girl aka Mariah.

The relationship between Mariah and Alexis……well, there is none. Put simply, they hate each other. More hate on Alexis' part, Mariah has just always kinda ignored Alexis and her role in your life, which is significantly easier considering Alexis is always on the move. The reason for the dislike and incompatibility between the two of them will always be a mystery.

“It’s just something about that girl.”

That’s what she would always say, and it once reached the point where you and Alexis stopped speaking for a couple of weeks, because you were a lot of things, loyal at the top of that list.

Outside of the whole situation with Joe….you still don’t know what exactly happened there.

Nonetheless, it just became agreed upon that talking with one woman about the other would be kept to a minimum, preferably none.

You know Alexis is just trying to be nice by asking. She doesn’t really care.

“I don’t know,” you answer, honestly. “She’s been….I think she’s just going through something.”

She rolls her eyes, clearly unsurprised. “I’m sure she is.”

You sigh. “Alexis.”

“I know you don’t like it when I talk about her cause that’s your other ‘best friend,’ but I’m telling you, Y/N, that girl is not your friend. She’s jealous of you. She been jealous of you,” she blurts out, as if keeping it in any longer would be painful. “But, imma be quiet.”

And she does which you’re grateful for, even if her words are, for the first time, starting to trigger some unfamiliar thoughts. Alexis, Kai, your own experiences. You’ve always leaned on the side of where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and Mariah’s forest is ablaze.

You just have to figure out how to approach all of this.

Among the other 50 fucking things you have to figure out.

_______

You can’t remember the last time you propped up your phone to call Joe for any reason other than Callie wanting to see or speak to him.

And yet, here you are, in your bathroom, preparing for your nightly routine, doing just that.

He answers on the third ring, eyes lighting up with surprise when he sees it’s you and not Callie. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Your tone is much too cheery for your taste, so you attempt to roll it back. “Is, uhh, is this a bad time?”

“Never a bad time for you,” he replies, smoothly. Looking into the screen, you realize he’s sitting up in bed, one arm behind his head. “What’s up? I thought you were having a girls night with Alexis.”

“We were. Well, we did, but she’s white girl wasted, passed out in my bed right now,” you answer, peeking through your ajar bathroom door to make sure she didn’t wander off somewhere. She was always that mobile drunk friend who had to be carefully monitored or else she’d end up on a local new station. “You talk to Callie?”

He nods as you grab your face wash and dispense some into your hand to lather. “Yeah, earlier. She seems to be having a good time with your mom.”

“She usually does, cause like you, my mom never tells her no.” You’ve always allowed that space for your mom to have her own relationship with Callie, one that you have no interference with. Similar to how it was for you with your grandma. But now with Joe being in the picture too, you foresee having to be that parent that actually tells their kid no.

Cause Lord knows Joe ain’t shaping up to be the one.

“She doesn’t do anything for us to have to tell her no.”

You pause in the midst of scrubbing your face. “God, I can’t wait for you to finally experience one of her tantrums. Next time you come, I’m gonna keep her up so you can see how she gets when she’s tired.” Joe has been blessed to really only experience happy Callie, even, unfortunately, sad Callie, but he’s yet to see your little girl when she’s angry.

“Don't do that to her.” He immediately grows defensive, and you giggle. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” you agree, rinsing your face and adding, “but all kids have moments, Joe. I would know, I work with them.”

“Well, you—”

“He don’t wanna be saved, don’t save him!”

You’re in the midst of drying your face when Alexis’s drunk, random ass comes stumbling by the door. “Alexis, what the hell are you doing up?”

Your words clearly trigger something with her wasted ass, cause in a matter of seconds, she’s crying. “My name is Alexis, but I’m not from Texas,” she begins to cry profusely at the word ‘Texas’, and it takes everything in you not to fall out laughing. You haven’t seen her this wasted since your junior year of college.

Hand on her back moving in circles, you soothe, “it’s okay, sweetie. You’re way better than her anyway.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, all soft and innocent, the complete opposite of the porn star she’s crying over not being.

“Of course.” You place your arms around her and mouth to Joe you’ll be right back. “Now, let's get you back to bed.”

“Are we gonna fuck?”

“No, Lex, you’re gonna sleep, and I’m going to finish talking to Joe.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment is hilarious as she yells out, much louder than necessary. “Bye, Joe!”

“Girl, you are gonna get me evicted,” you scold with a small laugh, guiding her into your bed and under the blankets. “Now, you sleep this off, and I’ll roast you in the morning over your antics. Deal?”

Alexis is so drunk, she couldn’t consent to breathing right now, but she does manage to give you a crooked thumbs up. “Deal.”

Stepping back into the bathroom, you give Joe a look and shake your head as he asks, “Damn. How much did ya’ll drink?”

“You mean how much did she drink?” You correct him. He knows good and well that’s not your thing. Never was. You didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. You could shake your ass on any table just fine, good and sober. “A lot. I just had two glasses of wine.” Suddenly remember something, you start speaking again, eager for his perspective on an idea that crossed your mind the other day.

“I think we should—”

“Go out with me.”

You both speak at the same time, but his statement obviously gives you pause. You stare at him, momentarily confused and ask, “what?”

He repeats himself, just as confident the first time around. “Go on a date with me.”

For a second, you think he’s joking, think he’s playing with you for some reason, but one look at his expression, and you know he’s being for real. You’re not sure how to respond, asking again, “like an actual date? A real date?”

“No, like a fake date.” He rolls his eyes, and you resist flipping him off. “Yes, an actual date.”

Still confused, you ask in a quieter voice, “why?”

His answer is surprisingly simple and unsurprisingly genuine. “Because I’ve never actually taken you out, and I want to. You deserve that much.”

This has been such a wild ass day. Hell, ever since Joe reentered your life, things have been wild. For the majority, if not entirety, of your relationship, you spent most of your time with this man holed up in your apartment and hotel rooms. Now he’s asking to take you out on a proper date.

What a 180.

It’s like he can see the wheels turning in your head and reassures, still with all the boldness. “We can take this as slow as you want, but you should know I’m heading in one direction and one direction only.”

Fuck. There’s nothing unclear about that, but it’s not surprising. He’s made it clear what he wants from you. He’s just waiting on you to tell him what you want from him.

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, "just a date?"

“Just a date,” he agrees. You should know him well enough though to know that’s not it. Sure enough, he smugly adds, “but if you end up riding my dick, then that’s just fate, baby.”

And there it goes, that charisma and charm that always kept you coming back for more.

Your smile is hard to conceal, so you settle for biting your lip, looking away. This man has no filter sometimes…not that you’re complaining. At all.

Feeling bold, probably from the wine traveling through your system, you play into his teasing. “Maybe I just want some dick.”

“That’s fine too.” He shrugs. “You know all you gotta do is ask, and I’ll get you right. Every single time.” A beat. “How you think Callie got here?”

That’s the thing….he’s not wrong, not wrong at all. You can’t think of a single sexual encounter with this man that didn’t either bring tears to your eyes from how good he was eating you up or had you walking with an almost limp the next day from how good he beat your shit up. Often both.

It’s always a good time with the head of the table.

Finally, you settle on an answer that feels most appropriate. “I’ll only agree if you agree to behave.”

He looks confused. Understandable. “What does it mean to behave?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you answer confidently, “it means keeping your hands and body parts to yourself.”

If you agree to this, it has to be well regulated and feelings or hormones can’t get in the way of things. If you and Joe are to progress into something more, you have to take it slow, even if just for Callie.

At least, that’s the hope.

Nodding, he asks, mischief in his light eyes. “What if you’re the one who can’t behave?”

You snort, using the oil to grease your scalp. “Unlikely.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll see about that.” He has that look in his eyes, the same look that almost always ended up with you bent over whatever the most sturdy object in the room was. It’s a dangerous expression.

And you suddenly find your thighs clenching together.

Not a good sign.

“Well,” you clear your throat, leaning over the counter, praying his perceptive ass didn’t notice that. “As much as I would love to continue to chat with you, I have to call our daughter and talk to her before she goes to bed.” It’s not an entire lie; you do need to call her. Just not at this moment. He doesn't need to know that though.

“You’re flustered, aren’t you?”

This man….

Two can play that game.

Pushing your arms together to press your breast together, you’re pleased seeing his gaze darken. “Does it look like I’m flustered, baby?” His jaw clenching is all the satisfaction you need. Mission accomplished. “Goodnight, Joe.”

Refusing to give him a chance to come back with something, you end the call, only realizing what just happened once you’re left alone with your thoughts.

You’re going out on a date with Joe.

What the fuck?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #black writers #arisnotebook

39 notes · View notes

mulderscully · 18 hours

Text

i'm gonna make one final post about the nick situation and then i'm not talking about it or answering asks about it anymore.

i am so frustrated and honestly sad about all of this, and not because i do think nick dislikes rwrb or any of the other stuff. i am hurt that so many ppl are all making the fandom look so bad to the point that his team filtered the word rwrb.

you know why they filtered that word? because he is getting fucking harassed by fans. how can you possibly expect him to have positive things to post when you attack him constantly? lately his comment section is full of people calling him a homophobe or somehow accusing him of queer bait. every interview he gets PRESSED about his sexuality, which is no one's buisness but his own. every day people accuse him of hating taylor when they've both said they're close friends. you are making all this horrible shit up and expecting something positive to come from it? what is wrong with y'all? that's not how things work.

was it odd that his team didn't share a story/post about the rwrb sequel? a little bit. does it warrant his behavior, or does it warrant people saying henry should be recast or that nick was "forced" to do it? absolutely not. that's immature and childish.

making empty accounts to the degree that they can't block them all will result in a term being muted, hello!! i get a SMALL fraction of that and it drives me crazy. how must he and his team feel?

nick was still on a press tour for the idea of you when the sequel was announced. we don't know how that may or may not have affected what he was able to post about until recently. m&g was still currently airing in the us so yes he posted about that too for the finale. again, there may have been contracts here, but you all seem to think that nick sits on his phone and actually posts this stuff himself now. he has 5 million followers. he has SAID he is not online, he DOES NOT RUN THAT ACCOUNT HIMSELF. does he probably have a burner? for sure. does his team need his approval and shit? of course. but he is not your bestie on that account the same way tzp is on his because they have wildly different personalities.

i'm pissed off because rwrb is such a lovely story, it's a happy place and a story nick has said is rich and that he is proud of and you all refuse to believe him when he speaks. and that bleeds into how he sees the fandom. the fandom is turning this into an ugly thing for him and for a lot of us who want no part in this.

the sequel isn't even written yet. leave nick alone. stop asking about his sexuality with the obvious intent to out him. stop harassing him with lies about his own feelings. stop making us look bad. just stop. i'm tired and i don't want this to be ruined for all of us before we get to all the lovely things to come when the sequel actually has a press tour, has a premiere, has interviews. please let things happen in due time.

#nicholas galitzine #rwrb

53 notes · View notes

weaveandwood · 24 hours

Note

Writing Prompt - Gale hosts a camp cookout! Everyone has to bring something to the party. Ora gets very flustered watching him cooking, and one thing leads to another...

Anything for you my love! I wanted to have this done closer to the holiday on Monday but here we are.

NSFW Words: 1982 CN: Oral Sex Watching Gale cook was one of Ora’s favorite pastimes. The sharp focus he got when he was doing something he loved was so attractive. From the very beginning of their journey together she had found her eye drawn to him, but especially so when he was cooking - something about the way his forearm muscles flexed, the furrow of his brows, the precision in his cuts. Someone that exacting with food would surely be as exacting in other areas of their lives, a fact Ora found out first hand almost a tenday ago, when he confessed he loved her and proved his diligence to her pleasure almost every day since. His attention to detail, whether it was spell casting, cooking, or remembering the exact amount of freckles that were sprinkled across her hipbone was one of the traits about Gale she loved the most.

Now, with Ketheric Thorm out of the picture and Gale very obviously not blown up, he had suggested a celebration dinner where everyone would bring their own dish to the courtyard at the Last Light Inn and contribute to the meal before the party left on the road to Baldur’s Gate with the sunrise the next morning. Not one to relinquish complete control of the meal, he offered to cook the main dish, and claimed his usual prep spot in their campsite, leaving the others to find somewhere else to work on their contributions. Auroria walked up to Gale holding a loaf of bread that she managed to talk Jaheira out of.

“The best hunter in our party shows up with a loaf of bread?” He teased. “No matter, it will go perfectly with what I have planned,” he smiled and kissed her cheek as she pulled over a stool to keep him company while he cooked.

“I’ll have you know it took plenty of effort to get Jaheira to give up this loaf of bread. I’m positive the only reason she did was because we took out Ketheric. She also gave me this,” she smiled as she held up a bottle of wine, one of the better bottles housed in the basement of the Last Light Inn.

“Another thank you gift?” Gale asked, taking the bottle and looking at the label. “I’ve had this before, this is an excellent wine. Almost too good to be enjoyed at a party, better to be shared in more intimate surrounds,” he lowered his voice and winked - winked! - as he put the bottle under the table, obvious in his intention to take it back to his tent to drink alone with Ora later that night. After they finished whatever battle, scouting mission, or strategy session they had for the day, she loved spending wine-drunk evenings with him while he read to her, his warm voice making even the most academic of passages sound downright sinful, often leading to other sinful acts before the night was over.

As he resumed his culinary work, the rhythmic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board took Auroria back to the thumping of the bed against the wall the previous night, when the two of them managed to secure one of the rare private quarters at the inn - the first thank you gift from Jaheira after defeating Ketheric and restoring Reithwin, breaking the Shadow Curse. After so many nights spent together in bedrolls on the hard ground, sharing a bed, a real bed, was revelatory. They had chased their first releases that night quickly, desperately, a confirmation of their survival, of defying the gods. A fire burned within her as she watched his elegant hands curve around the knife handle much in the same way they curved around the back of her neck whenever he kissed her deeply.

Why did he have to push his sleeves up like that? It was maddening how she couldn’t draw her gaze away from them or the tendons working in his hands as he grabbed a tomato. The way his hair fell forward into his face as he leaned over, slicing it - each slice precisely the same thickness. The way he bit his lip as he looked for the next ingredient needed. Was she standing too close to the fire? It was suddenly very hot in this area of the camp.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He asked, catching her staring at him.

“Nothing appropriate,” she smiled. “Have you ever been told just how attractive you are when you cook?”

He chuckled, slicing an onion now. “Well, considering how my last relationship before you was with a goddess who didn’t require food, and then I was a hermit for over a year…no, no one has ever told me that.”

She stood up, brushing a strand of hair out of his face before leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Well, let me be the one to tell you that every time I watch you cook, I want to peel all your clothes off right then and there and give you as much attention as you give these vegetables.” She planted a kiss on his neck, knowing it drove him wild, confirmation coming in the form of a low groan. “And since we are the only two people in the camp right now, we should take advantage of it,” she said as she nipped his earlobe.

He set the knife down, kissing her. “As much as I want to take you to my tent and give you every attention, there’s still some prep to do before we are supposed to reconvene at the Last Light Inn, my love. I promise to leave you doubly satisfied before you sleep tonight.”

“You always do, and I will hold you to that,” she laughed. “But I said I wanted to give you all the attention, remember?” She kissed him again and pressed her body against his, feeling his growing desire for her. She reached between them, her hand rubbing his growing erection through his pants.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers. She felt him gasp against her as she reached inside his waistband, under his undergarments and felt him, growing harder as her fingertips brushed over him.

He broke the kiss and looked at her, a hint of nervousness on his face. “Out here, Ora? What if someone comes back to camp?”

She kissed his neck again, smiling against it. “You are Gale of Waterdeep, I have utter faith that you would figure something out,” she smiled as she unbuttoned the front of his pants and loosened the laces on his briefs, enough to keep him covered but grant his hardness enough freedom for her to wrap her hand around it. His sharp intake of breath encouraged her and she started slowly stroking him, feeling him grow even harder in her hand. “I would have you right here, but I know you value privacy, and your tent is just over there,” she whispered. “Maybe you can take just a short break?”

“Gods, Ora, you will be the death of me. But I will die a happy man.” He kissed her and took her hand, putting aside his current duty and leading her to his tent, lowering the flap behind them.

He put his hands on her hips and kissed her deeply. Her hands wrapped around his back, pulling them closer together. He reached between them for the bottom of her shirt, his hands running under the hem, against the soft skin of her stomach.

“Take it off,” he whispered.

Auroria nodded, pulling off her shirt, leaving her in only her bralette, much to Gale’s dismay. When they stole time together at the end of the day she never wore anything under her shirts. He ran his fingers along the edge of the embroidered fabric, dipping just barely inside it to feel the even softer skin of her breast. His other hand drifted down, rubbing her over the fabric of her leggings. A soft moan escaped her lips.

“Gale, I’m supposed to be giving you the attention, remember?” She laughed, her knees almost buckling from the friction between her legs and the way he was looking at her, a man starving. Like he hadn’t feasted from her the night previous, like they hadn’t spent the morning in each others arms, bringing each other into relaxed bliss as the sun rose. She reached between them, unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. Gods, she thought, admiring his chest, running her hands over it.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispered, kissing down his neck, over the orb marking, down his chest. “Now, take off your pants, my love.” She smiled as he gladly acquiesced, standing naked before her as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him. She looked up at him as she wrapped her hand around him again, hearing him gasp as she stroked, his fingertips resting on her shoulders for balance.

“Let me touch you,” he whispered. It was still difficult for him to accept receiving pleasure with no expectation of anything in return, no matter how many times she told him she enjoyed it as much as he did. She looked up at him, making eye contact as she flattened her tongue, licking the length of his hardness before taking just the tip in her mouth.

She thought he might fall over. His eyes darkened with lust and he moaned loudly. His hands went to her hair, tangling in it as she took him farther into his mouth, sucking softly. One of her hands traced up his thigh, feeling the muscles underneath his gorgeous skin before settling on his hip.

“That feels so good,” he said, watching her intently, his hips starting to rock in tandem with her hand and mouth, making her take him deeper. She hummed against him, loving the feeling of him against her tongue. She stroked him from base to tip, her mouth following, drawing new and louder sounds out of him. She was suddenly glad they were the only ones at camp - she loved when he let himself get lost in pleasure. His hips rocked faster, urging her to suck harder, faster, deeper. His hands were on her head, guiding her as he set the pace.

She could feel his body stiffen, his breathing become more labored as he neared the edge of his release. She moaned against him, looking up and catching his eyes as the vibrations went through him. He looked down at her. He looked so undone, she had such power over him in this moment.

“I’m going to…I’m almost…” he whispered. He maintained eye contact with her as he gave two more quick thrusts with his hips, crying out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over him, sending him over the edge. Auroria felt him pulse and throb in her mouth as his release coated her tongue before she swallowed it.

“Gods, I love you,” he said, smiling as he reached down and stroked her face before helping her stand up.

She kissed him deeply. “I love you too. Thanks for letting me distract you for a moment,” she smiled as he pressed his forehead against hers. “We should probably get back out there and finish up. I’ll even help.”

“Ora, I’m not sure that’s the boon you think it is,” he laughed, remembering the last time she helped him unsuccessfully.

She smiled and narrowed her eyes at him. “Get your clothes on wizard, and I’ll see you at the inn, then. And don’t think I won’t hold you to your promise of making sure I’m doubly satisfied tonight!” She laughed as she walked out of the tent.

He smiled and shook his head as he reached for his discarded clothes. Gods, he was glad he didn’t blow himself up.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #my writing #woodweave #gale x auroria

34 notes · View notes

ae-neon · 1 day

Note

Regarding the sex pet introduction. I remember reading this post from The Lady Of Bloodshed and it was an ask about Feyre standing in the Spring Court VS Night Court. I think it was an old post, please forgive me if I recall it wrong. Please correct me if i got it wrong.

But yes, it also disturb me the fact Rhys introduce her as a whore VS Tamlin introduce her as the "next SC lady". I remember Tamlin set the party and everyone was joyous, respectful to Feyre. Mind you, Tamlin introduce Feyre to his close circle, his childhood friends and we know this friends has influence in SC political structure and dynamic. Tamlin trusted her and I would say he respect her and want the SC to respect her too (Credit to Tamlin from Acotar 1).

But rhys? Suddenly out of nowhere he bring a whore to the Hewn City event/party? No introduction, no proper gathering, no introducing Feyre who is who in HC. Suddenly, Feyre a whore.

If you see this from HC people POV, wont they be disgusted with Rhys and especially Feyre? "The HL kidnapp a Spring Court bride and made her a whore in our court" and of course HC people hated Feyre. Their position os vulnerable because of their HL kidnapped another HL bride. This is emphasize by Cressida when they visit Summer Court.

I get Feyre will be clueless of this but Rhys? It was as if he wanted to isolate Feyre and control Feyre narrative of other. All other court they visited or have history is bad IF rhys think they are bad. Spring Court,? Bad history and suddenly Feyre destroy the court. Summer Court? Rhys somehow dont like them and lie to them and have Feyre stole the book. Autumn? Yeah, they got beef in the HL meeting and Feyre accidentally burn the Lady Autmn hands and then proceed to bully,make fun Lucien and his band.

Urghh I hate the whole thing Rhys introduce him as a sex pet. Feyre was a mortal that got through the trial and can be seen as hero to Prythian but now she is a whore, kidnapped bride from SC and your man dont even do a public marriage with you. It really make me itch thinking Rhys did not do a proper wedding with Feyre. He is a HL, establishing a proper ceremony with his wife is important. It legitimaze Feyre position and guarantee safety of his future heir from being ostracize in the succession line. It would be silly for a 500 years old male not knowing of this.

While all this thing of wedding, confirming Feyre position is not done by Rhys. Tamlin at least acknowledge this thing and were ready to handed it to Feyre.

Yeah yeah, I get Feyre dont want to this docile pretty pretty Wife. But the narrative of her position can be set up and change later after she got married (Though it dont happen because tamlin got paranoid). The least was, she will be wed to Tamlin and recognize as Lady of SC. Any attempt to hurt her is seen as hurting SC overall and challenging Tamlin as HL. Now, Feyre introduce as whore in Night Court. No one would careless if she die why? No paper work, no ceremony,no legitimazation frkm the HL himself.

Thats all, thanks coming to my Ted talk. I shall go lunch and back to Email Factory

Hello Email Factory anon

it's morning for me, I already typed a long reply to this, but Tumblr is fighting me, so I had to get out of bed and fetch my laptop.

(keep in mind i have not read SF and likely never will)

For many fans, Feyre's status of High Lady isn't something they question. Acotar Elon Musk aka Riceball said it is, so it is.

For some antis, they question the validity of it. the argument being: The HL title is not something the current High Lord can pass or share with whoever he chooses, HL is chosen by the land. there is no evidence, lore wise, that supports Riceball being able to make Feyre HL.

my personal theory is that Feyre could actually be HL of ANY or ALL courts due to her having a part of their magic. my evidence being that she was able to bypass the security of that temple in Summer because the magic recognised her as Tarquin. i think Feyre essentially has a skeleton key to every court.

and i think Rice knew that.

i think he recognised not only the threat, but the potential there and not just isolate her, as you pointed out, but fool her too. by having a private ceremony in which he makes her think it was him who granted her the status of HL.

I also think, to varying degrees of intention, he then went on to undermine her authority in each section of his court

The title of Cursebreaker, which should have been the key to his diplomatic strategy in MAF and WAR, was instead replaced

in Velaris:

Feyre could have easily secured lots of love and respect from her actions as the Saviour of the Rainbow. But fast-forward and post war all she has done is a little bit of philanthropy, have sex in the sky, build a 5th house and paint.

Im not sure what she could do for Velaris but what we do get is more about herself and the ic than the people

in Illyria:

Lets start with the fact that because the only Illyrians Feyre knows personally are Rice, Casserole and Adzuki Bean - she should have a more positive or at least optimistic view of Illyrians. but she wastes no time in absorbing and identifying with their racism. and sjm's racist narrative is not going to confront Feyre even when Illyrians only actions on paper are fighting and dying in the war against Hybern.

the books and it's fans will cite the fgm-like cultural practices but not confront that Rice and Co. have done nothing to actually stop or punish it, and admit to needing Illyrian's as fodder - something that is only possible when the society is kept at the brink of anarchy and war, necessitating the continued brutalization of its women and children

Feyre should have gotten the Valkyrie plot. yea, it's a white saviour trope but she is the official ruler of these people so the least she can do is help them, immerse herself in their culture (instead of just wearing their skins willy nilly) and maybe even adopted some kids idk

in the Hewn City:

first we need to set straight that the HC - not Velaris, a secret city - is the offical capital of the Night Court and the seat of it's HL. the people who live in it are the nobility. in a world of eugenics and lesser classes like acotar, this matters

we have already seen that the HL title can skip a royal line and fall to not directly in the line of succession, regardless of gender. (in Summer, the title skipped not just Princess Cresseida but also Prince Varian, to pass to their cousin, Tarquin)

we have also seen that age, even within the direct line of succession, is not a determining factor. (With Tamlin it skipped his older brothers and with Lucien, though we know he is not Beron's son, his older brothers legitimately believed him to be next in line)

given all of this, it is entirely possible that someone from the HC might be next in line. and yet Rice makes no attempt to truly bridge the gap between his Court of Dreams and Court of Nightmares. he introduces the person he knows is his mate to them as a pet.

Again, she's not just a stolen bride of spring but THEE CURSEBREAKER, she could have shown her off like a trophy or a token of his power if he really wanted to tie her power directly to his but no, he introduces her like a thing he owns, a thing that is beneath him.

it doesn't matter that later he says she is HL or that he puts a throne besides his, the narrative is already set: she is what she is, because he said so

a better idea would have been to throw a ball with her as the guest of honour, for her to stop Riceball from tormenting his subjects - would he listen to her? probably not so nvm

in contrast, Tamlin - who given his personality and attitude towards being HL in book1 - might not have wanted a grand ceremony but understood it would be good for his diplomacy and his court

he wanted to publicly marry Feyre - someone who was not his mate - tying them together in front of his court so they could all acknowledge their bond both personally and politically

he wanted her to be recognised and respected as the Lady of Spring even if he didnt think she could be High Lady of Spring

ignoring the similar situations of control and abuse Feyre faces in both - doesn't matter if she decides she likes Rice's, it's still control and abuse

it's kind of undeniable that Rice went about things in a way that is at best stupid and at worst manipulative

sjm tries to walk many lines between politics and love stories but she not every good at either so it just turns into a mess

though i will say: Rice would at least be interesting if he was doing all of this on purpose but so far sjm seems too in love with him to let him be intentionally heinous towards his love interest

#anon ask #anti sjm #acotar rant #anon asks #I can't remember which tag I use #sjm critical

25 notes · View notes