#me when someone asks me about my interests
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tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]
You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around.
Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use.
You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.
All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.
You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.
“The nanny?”
“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”
“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.
You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.
The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.
Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.
It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.
It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny.
Perfect.
The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic.
Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.
But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience.
You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.
Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy.
“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”
“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”
You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.
Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.
“I never say anything I don’t mean.”
You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.
He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.
But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.
You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.
It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.
In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.
“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”
No, you think, there’s no way he knows.
You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.
It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.
After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.
“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.
A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.
He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”
The noise in your brain goes static.
You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.
Ren coos softly into your shoulder.
When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.
He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.
He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy.
“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”
You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out.
“I-I want—”
All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt.
“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”
You clench, nerves shot.
“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”
Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there.
Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along.
It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.
His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”
And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#.things i write
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the one with the role play — gojo satoru
— your husband breaking character during role play after you mention the one thing you shouldn’t have
suggestive, MDNI, established relationship (you’re married), written with f! reader in mind but think i kept it pretty gn, alcohol (nobody gets drunk, just a super quick mention of it as a choice of drink at the bar), strangers at the bar role play (or a failed attempt tbh), based on this talk post of mine, wc: 1.3k
“hey, love”, satoru broke the silence while the two of you were folding the laundry one afternoon. (yes, the strongest sorcerer always helps his wife with chores)
“say, love”, you quickly responded, without looking at him.
“you know, i was thinking — we’ve never tried role play”
“that’s what folding clothes made you think of?”, glancing at him you chuckled, “interesting”, raising an eyebrow teasingly.
“we’ve done pretty much everything but that. you’re not curious?”
now was not the time to tell him that you had done this before, with your ex, and that it was fun. no need to remind him that you had other partners before him and make him lose sleep for days to come, like that one time when he found your diary from high school in the attic and read about all the crushes and boyfriends you had. it took weeks and a lot of coddling on your part (you even had to start a satoru only diary and write his name into little hearts) for him to get over it. so you figured you’d keep this little detail to yourself and take it to the grave. or it would be your husband taken to the grave due to lethal jealousy steaming from the fact that another man had laid his hands on you in the past.
“s-sure”, you stuttered, thinking back to that excruciating memory, then cleared your throat before continuing — “yea, we can do that, why not”
“good then”, he tossed the shirt in his hands aside and stepped closer to you. circling his arms around your waist from behind — one hand eventually resting over your chest while the other stopping at your navel and gently rubbing it — he possessively pressed you against his chest and hummed contently.
“someone’s very excited about this, huh?”, you placed your hand over his and tilted your head back to peek at him.
“oh? can you tell?”, he grinned, playfully pushing his hips against you.
“that giant thing in your pants poking me from behind is giving you away, i’m afraid”
“it’s your fault though”, his head craned down so his lips could reach your forehead and trail soft kisses down to the tip of your nose.
standing on your tip toes you raised your hands to cup his cheeks and pecked him on the lips. “of course, it’s my fault that you’re getting all hot and bothered in the middle of the day like some pervert”
“i always get hot and bothered thinking about you”, he pecked you back, then slowly turned you around (concerned that you might hurt your neck if you kept that position up).
“any ideas?”, you asked.
“8pm, the bar around the corner”
“we’re to enact the classic strangers meeting at the bar, huh? okay. anything else?”
“nope, let’s improvise”
[8:13pm, at the bar]
sitting alone on the stool at the bar counter, you kept playing with your now half empty martini glass, drawing circles with it on the surface. you felt a bit weird sitting here pretending to be single and ready to mingle. but oh well.
he was late. you took another sip of your drink and grabbed your phone to check the time again.
“next one’s on me”, a painfully familiar voice approached you from behind. “if you would allow me, that is”
he was late on purpose, you figured. waiting for you to almost finish your drink so he could easily start a conversation by using such a lame but still quite effective line.
“i don’t normally accept drinks from strangers”, you gazed at him, “but an exception every now and then wouldn’t hurt, i assume”
a puckish smile curved on his lips. “may i?”, taking his sunglasses off, he asked for your permission to sit next to you.
“sure”
you were quite impressed at how seriously he was actually taking this, not breaking character even for a second so far. he had made up a brand new persona of himself, introducing himself as “sato kouya” — the ceo of a leading pharmaceutical company, temporarily living in tokyo for the purpose of a big business project.
“enough about me though”, eyes focused on you, he leaned his elbow on the bar counter and placed his chin on his palm. “tell me about yourself — what’s a beauty like you doing alone?”
you giggled (he was just so cute right now). “you’re lucky that i am alone — if we had met a week earlier, i would’ve still been married”
his expression froze at your words. the smile from a few seconds ago was now bleeding into a confused, almost creepy, look on his face — his lips still stretched into a grin while his eyes told a different story.
“hmmm… how so?”, he spoke in a monotone, his grin slowly fading away.
it would be a lie to say his weird reaction didn’t concern you at all but you decided to brush it off, and continued. “you see, i just got officially divorced. my ex husband and i tried out best to keep the marriage going for as long as we could but we were simply not meant to be”, you sighed. “this was the best for both of us”
“no way”, satoru whined. “no fucking way”
“umm… excuse me?”, you tilted your head in confusion.
“i don’t like this”, his face giving you a dejected grimace — brows knitted, lips pursed into a pout and eyes filled with a mix of panic and sorrow taking over the blue in them and turning it into a darker shade. “divorced? not meant to be? don’t even joke about this”, he almost cried out. the thought alone rubbed him the wrong way, tugged at his heartstrings so intensely that it forced him out of character right then and there, putting an end to your little role play escapade (rip sato kouya, you will be missed).
“satoru”, you caressed his hand, “baby. love of my life. this is just an act, please get it together”
“oh”, he gasped in utter shock after his focus fell on your hand and he noticed you were not wearing your ring. “you even took your ring off? why would you do that?”
great, this was getting worse now.
“because of the role play”, you spoke each word slowly, stressing on the last two very carefully.
“but i’m still wearing mine”, he protested, pointing at his ring, “see? you could’ve still acted fine with your ring on and without bringing up divorce and not meant to be’s”, he cried again, a hangdog look splattered on his face.
“i didn’t want to play the cheating wife, that’s why i took it o—“, you were cut off by another dramatic reaction.
“cheating? CHEATING? you considered this scenario?”, his voice was hitting desperate notes at this point. you couldn’t believe he had lost all reason over a play pretend.
you pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke, “okay, that’s enough. you’re being ridiculous right now. i’m going home”
he followed after you like a kicked puppy, whining all the way home. but you had to admit — part of you really loved the fact that he went completely out of his mind over something so silly, that he didn’t know what to do with himself just thinking about you possibly leaving him even in a made-up scenario, that you held so much power over him…
extra:
[later that night, in bed]
done reading for the night and ready to sleep, you placed your book on the nightstand and looked over at your husband sitting with his arms crossed next to you in bed.
“still not over it?”, you nestled your head on his chest.
“no. hurts like hell just thinking about it”, he mumbled.
“come on, stop pouting”, you pinched his cheek, “you can’t go to sleep with a grumpy face”
“yea?”, he glanced down at you, “sit on it then — it’s the only way to wipe that pout off of it”
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Since you asked, I will be here kindly dropping an ask for a request to write something for Joost.
Do you do sweet jealousy? Where the reader is jealous? Nothig toxic obviously 😂
For example where now that he is gaining more love from people, and thus more attention from girls too, the reader pouts when he talks to this girl who approached him and she is a bit more touchy feely with him? While she is understanding and happy for him, naturally the jealousy can't be hold back.
Or whip something up that just flows from your imagination 😌
Thank you in advance!
Mwah 💋
Well, my boyfriends pretty cool, you will never reach him.
I love this one!! I always think about this ngl. People cross boundaries a lil too much, so this is your reminder to be aware of your surroundings.
requested? yes!
reader? gender neutral!
genre? jealousy, eventual fluff
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Cold post show beers, breezy hangouts behind the venue, thank you's being exchanged, it was all routine at some point. After his shows someone would get some cold beer while the crew enjoyed the nice breeze outside the venue after the show, just for everyone to cool down, especially Joost. You however stayed rather quiet today, your red hands wrapping around the ice cold bottle, the look in your eyes rather empty as you stare at your boyfriend and those girls next to him.
Unfortunately the area behind the venue seemed to be easily accessible to everyone, and while you were always happy for him to have fans that care so much, it would get hard to watch from time to time. He would never decline a photo with a fan, or an autograph, even the countless gifts he regularly got unless he was genuinely unwell, but the dutch singer was still high on adrenaline and already quite drunk, so he basically welcomed the group of girls with open arms, ready to listen to them. Typically this would really never be an issue, most people knew about your relationship and always supported it, even though you never made it public, so sometimes you were even asked to be in the photo along with them, but this particular group of girls seemed to be completely oblivious to the concept of personal space. One of them seemed particularly interested in him- she must have been your age aswell, at least the tattoos you could see on her body told you quite clearly that she was a grown woman. If it would have been a fourteen year old fangirl or something, you might have been able to excuse it.
There she stood, that grin on her face as she runs her fingers over the tattoos on Joost's arm, talking about how he looks oh so good with them. She kept getting more physical in subtle yet somehow obvious ways, to the point where he started looking awfully uncomfortable too, especially by the time he shot a glance at you only to see that pout and the empty look in your eyes as you stare at them. "Any plans after the show? You must be celebrating the end of your tour. I know a really cool club just around the corner, maybe I'll see you there." she eventually let her fingers drift off of his arm as she gives him one last little wave before leaving with her friends, still giggling carelessly like she didn't have a worry in the world. Once he was free of her again, you felt Joost sitting down next to you, your eyes piercing through the ground until he wrapped his arm around you, making you look up at him again. "I'm sorry sweetheart, some people don't know boundaries..." he whispers as not to pull the attention of the rest of the crew on you, somehow making the accent in his voice even more prominent by doing so. He leans in and starts posting soft kisses along your jawline, knowing damn well this is a ticklish spot for you.
It cheered you up, made you chuckle again before pushing his face away with your hand, trying to break free from the tickling feeling. "Now don't just push me away!" he starts acting all offended, gasping at your behavior before he goes right back to attacking your face with a swarm of soft little pecks all over, his arms wrapped around you so you truly have no way of escaping, if you even wanted that.
okaaaay lets go
#joost klein#joost klein fanfiction#joost#joost klein x reader#fanfiction#eurovison song contest#europapa
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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TOUCH IT - ( c.s )
REQUESTED**
summary- you and chris have never gotten along, despite your close relationship with his two brothers. you find out that’s he’s been messing with your love life behind your back, and all hell breaks loose. you both exchange many hurtful pranks, until you take it too far and chris shows up at your place
warnings- SMUT W/ A PLOT (enemies to lovers), virgin!reader x playboy!chris, cursing, you know the drill
a/n: it’s been forever, but i have returned!! thank you for waiting and i truly hope this makes up for my absence. to the nonnie who requested this im praying it meets expectations lol. my inbox is always open for reqs, comments, sweet nothings, etc <3
@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @lovesodakid @mattslolita @sturniolopepsi @boywonderblogs @cherrypostsposts @iprk90 @bxbynyah7 @mbbsgf @zivall @slut4chriss @sturniolossss @sturnslcver @k111rby @vsangel-starbies @ginswife @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturngirly @faygo-frog @s8nshines @bellasashylegs @mattsbbg @sturnlova @huntiesworld @cthasia @mattybsbitch @justalittle47 @ponyosturniolo @goldengrapejuice @matthewsturniolosactualgf @lustfulslxt @kenzieiskoolaid @ryli3sworld @c6ina @mcdonaldscocacola @venusvonlaw
your sniffles fill the living room, a pathetic sound that continues as you wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. well, it’s actually nick’s sweatshirt, and even though you’re getting your makeup all over it, he feels so terrible that he doesn’t mind.
“i don’t understand, you guys. why would he blow me off after we already went on three really good dates?” you question, voice cracking in hurt.
nick shakes his head solemnly, rubbing your arm to try and console you. “because he’s a fucking loser. i know it sucks, but i promise you this is for the best. now you don’t have to waste any more time on that dick.”
you just sigh. he’s right, but that doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. being stood up is a hit to the self-esteem, especially when you get all dressed up to wait around outside the restaurant like an idiot and have your best friends pick you up an hour later.
and after years of being on the sidelines, of watching everyone around you date and fall in love, you have to admit that you really thought something was growing. you thought it was your turn.
meeting wes was like a breath of fresh air, and after a few very promising initial hangouts, you figured this might finally be it. a cute guy with similar interests who actually seemed to like you.
but you suppose you guessed wrong.
“he was so sweet though, and that’s why i’m confused. the guy i thought that i was going out with would have never done that.” you reason, more with yourself than with him.
matt huffs from the other side of you, pushing his hair back on his forehead. “don’t cut him any slack. if he was even halfway decent he would’ve been open and communicated with you.”
another truth bomb that only further ruptures your heart. you know they’re trying to help, even though nothing about this is making you feel any better.
the whole thing is a disaster, though you should have known better. your entire love life has always been a mess. but each time you meet someone new and start to fall, you’re hopeful that it’ll be different.
“i just want to know what i did.” you mutter, sniffling again to try and stop your runny nose.
before either of them can respond, a loud bang erupts out from the kitchen and infiltrates the moment. you flinch, snapping your head in the direction of the noise just to meet a pair of icy eyes.
it’s chris, because of course he has to see you like this, at your literal lowest point. he’s got a small pot in hand as he stares you down, somehow managing to look both annoyed and indifferent at the same time.
“what are you whining about this time?” he asks, turning his back to you so he can set the pot on the stove and switch on the burner.
“be nice, chris. she’s having a rough night.” nick tells his brother, who doesn’t heed the warning in the slightest.
instead he just spins around to face the three of you once more, a small (but still smug) smile lighting up his face.
“oh, you had a date with that idiot wesley didn’t you? how did it go?”
chris poses it as a question, but you see right through him. his sarcastic tone indicates that he already knows how it went, considering your mascara is streaked under your bloodshot eyes and you’re in nick’s clothes rather than your own outfit.
but still, you find yourself giving him an answer, though it’s followed up by an interrogation of your own. “he didn’t show. you happen to know anything about that?”
he shrugs, reaching to open the pantry and grab some pasta. “nope.”
“bullshit.”
it flies out of your mouth before you truly think about it, but you’re kind of happy you spoke up for once. you know he’s hiding something, and you deserve the whole truth.
“what is that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes, like he’s challenging you to say more.
“it means you’re lying right to my face. what did you do?” you question further, even though you’re not entirely sure you want the answer.
chris gnaws on his cheek, trying to decide how much to tell you. and then he remembers that his brothers are in the room, and that he’d never be caught dead admitting to any sort of vulnerability, so his mouth starts running without a second thought.
“oh, that? yeah, i ran into wes the other day at the gym.” he shrugs simply, like that explains it all.
you rise to your feet, legs far ahead of your brain as you charge in his direction. “what the fuck did you say, chris?”
he’s surprised by your temper considering you’re usually so mild-mannered, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand down. instead, he straightens to puff his chest out, crossing his arms in a defensive stance.
“i told him the truth. that you’re a prude, and that you’ll never let him hit no matter how many amazing dates you go on.”
your mouth falls open and you stop in your tracks, just a few feet from him now. there’s no softness in his eyes; he’s completely shut down, focused on upholding the facade.
never in a million years did you expect him to throw your inexperience back at you as an insult, no matter how much you both disliked each other.
you’re pretty sure you hear both matt and nick gasp lightly from the living room, completely taken aback by their brothers brazenness. you can’t blame them. you’re almost not sure how to react, or what to say. almost.
“you’re gonna regret the day you ever fucked with me, christopher sturniolo. i can promise you that.”
and you kept that promise.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you hear him roar from somewhere upstairs.
you immediately smile, munching on your breakfast (even though it’s noon) in the kitchen. nick looks over from beside you with wide eyes, and then takes notice of your satisfied expression.
“what did you do?” he asks in a hushed voice as you hear chris come bounding down the stairs.
you shrug and turn to look over your shoulder at the man of the hour. he’s shirtless, hair tussled from sleep with his sweats hanging low on his waist, and he’s waving around a pair of his boxers. it’s one of the expensive ones that you know is now completely destroyed thanks to your doing.
“really? cutting out a hole in all of my underwear?” chris snaps at you, tossing them at your feet because he doesn’t know what else to do.
it’s a dick hole, to be specific. they’re completely in tact aside from the gaping space where it’s supposed to protect his manhood.
“figured it would help save time since you wanna fuck everything that moves.” you say, taking a satisfying bite of your bacon as you study him with a smirk.
nick lets out a laugh, because he knows that chris honestly deserves it after his asshole behavior towards you a few days ago.
you’d been strong, pretending it didn’t phase you as much as it really had whenever you were hanging out with them. but it was beyond messed up, and neither of the boys could understand why their brother would go to that extent just to sabotage your relationship.
“better than being a stuck-up virgin who thinks she’s smarter than she is.” he growls in return, and there’s a mean look in his eyes.
you know he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s once again tossing your innocence around like a dig, which is what offends you the most considering it’s a deep-rooted insecurity.
and you hate that he’s still being malicious while he looks so damn heavenly standing across from you, his bare chest heaving in anger. it makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.
you don’t know if you’re sick with rage or sick with desire.
definitely rage, right?
“i’d rather be selective than completely ran through.” you hurl another diss at him, which he just scoffs at.
“you think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? how many other times have you snuck into my room while i’m sleeping?” chris questions, taking a singular step forward.
he’s towering over you as you sit at the table, but you don’t let it intimidate you like he wants. instead, you say the one thing that you know he won’t expect.
“how many times have you thought about taking me in there yourself, huh?” you accuse him harshly.
your words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable. his lips part in shock, and you watch the blush creep up his neck to his face because he can’t count on both hands how much he’s pictured you in his bed.
you’re also stunned by his reaction, but you try not to show it. you expected him to tell you how wrong you are, how he would never touch you in a million years.
but he doesn’t.
“jesus, what did i just walk in to?” matt grumbles as he trudges past his brother into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
chris answers before you can. “nothing, she’s just being insane.”
“i’m sure whatever she did was reasonable after that douchebag comment you made the other day.” he replies easily, and your heart swells at the fact that he came to your defense.
you know it puts your two best friends in a tough situation considering you’re constantly bickering with their brother, but it’s nice to know they have your back on this.
“fine. i don’t fucking need this from all three of you anyways.” chris’s frown deepens as he turns on his heel to head back upstairs.
part of you feels a bit bad as you watch him go, but the overwhelming sensation that takes over is pride. you finally fought back, and you may have actually ended it.
well, that’s what you thought anyways, but you find that you’re once again wrong.
on your way back from the triplets house two days later, you were honked at eight separate times. you started keeping track.
the first instance scared the absolute shit out of you, because you thought you were about to get into an accident or something. your hand had flown to your chest, a loud curse leaving your mouth as your other palm gripped the wheel.
and then it happened again, and again, and many more times after that. you were pretty sure there was something written into the grime on your back window, but you couldn’t read it no matter how hard you tried.
you’re enraged by the time you park at your place, tearing out of the driver's seat to go look. you pull out your phone and tap the flashlight on, illuminating the hidden message.
honk if u think im a SLUT
you press your shaky fingers to your mouth, completely embarrassed by the fact that you’d been driving around like this and by the fact that so many people had essentially called you a whore.
what a stupid prank, considering you had almost crashed your car over it. you grab a napkin from your center console and wipe it all away, grumbling under your breath about how much you hate chris the whole time.
the. you stalk into your little ground-level apartment, slamming the front door shut behind you. by the time you’ve kicked off your shoes and made it to your bedroom you’ve worked yourself into a fit.
you whip your phone back out and find yourself pulling up his contact despite how much you don’t want to hear his cocky remarks.
but it’s ringing regardless, and he picks up on the second one. he was expecting the call, anxiously awaiting your reaction because he knew it would piss you off enough to talk to him.
“hey.” chris says simply, smiling to himself as he leans back in the rolling chair in his room.
“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? and also a raging hypocrite while we’re at it. am i a prude or a slut, chris?” you lash out immediately, pacing around your room because you can’t seem to sit down.
“you’re a slutty prude.” he replies, and you can literally hear the smirk in his voice.
“and you’re just a little bitch. you love to act like you’re so tough, but i think you’re the weakest person i know by far. always too scared to say what you really mean.” your words are sharp yet fluid, as if they’re coming from someone besides yourself.
there’s a pause, just for a brief second, and you wonder what’s going through his head. you don’t know what’s going through your own anymore.
the line crackles and he sucks in a breath, re-arming himself to continue this brawl.
“you want me to say what i mean? i think you love riding on your high horse, pretending that you’re better than everyone else. like you’re so pure. but really you’re just needy and desperate, hoping someone will come along and fuck you right.”
your mouth is suddenly completely dry, trying to process what he even means while also coming up with a quick response.
“you think about people fucking me a lot? or do you think about you fucking me a lot?” you ask a beat later, bringing back the conversation from the other day.
he feels the blood rush to his dick, which stiffens against his sweats from this kind of talk with you. he’s only ever imagined it in his dreams.
“you wish it was me, don’t you sweetheart? taking it slow, making you weak.” he mutters, and you feel yourself throb from his words alone.
you hate how much it turns you on, thinking about chris completely having his way with you. you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach, pattering through your gut and up to your chest.
“you gonna come do something about it or are you just gonna keep talking shit?” you call him out.
he sucks in a breath, completely hard now from your alluring voice and the context of your words.
there’s nothing he wants more than to sprint to your house and spread you out on your bed, to show you what real pleasure is all about. but there’s so many underlying problems, one of which is the fact that his brothers are best friends with you.
there’s a lot to ruin, even though he knows he already destroyed any chance of a real relationship between the two of you the second he met you. but still, being honest means things will change, and that scares him.
so he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up.
for a second you don’t even realize, and then the ending tone alerts you that he’s not waiting to respond, he’s just a fucking jerk. you can’t believe he ended the call so abruptly, like it didn’t phase him at all.
your legs are shaky as you throw yourself down into bed, ignoring the chill you still feel creeping across your body from the conversation.
he won’t get the last laugh. you won’t let him.
chris thinks about you the most at night. it’s hardest to get you out of his head when he’s alone in his room, just like he is now, watching tv to try and drown out his overactive mind. he hasn’t seen you in a few days, which is unusual, and he doesn’t like to admit it but he misses you.
you’re the reason he’s scrolling through instagram in the first place, aimlessly liking girls' photos just to try and convince himself that he’s interested in other people.
but he’s not. he hasn’t been in a long time, because he knew almost immediately that you’re everything he’s ever wanted, which was only confirmed as you continued to stick around. the thought alone was terrifying.
so he pushed you, and pushed you, and pushed you, ensuring that you’d steer clear of him. it just seemed easier, though it’s proving to be quite the opposite.
he’s just about to turn to video games for saving when his phone goes off in his hand. it’s a text from a girl he met over a week ago at a party, who had come back to spend the night with him.
and she’s asking if he has chlamydia.
the question is followed by a screenshot, which chris taps on immediately as his heart beats out of his chest. it’s a different message from some kind of bot number, alleging that he recently tested positive and she should see a doctor.
the sad part is that it looks pretty official, so much so that if he received the text himself he would probably believe it blindly. his face burns in embarrassment and irritation.
then another one comes through, from a girl he used to hook up with pretty frequently last month. by the time he responds to one person, he’s greeted by more messages from others.
five girls text him in the span of five minutes, which just adds insult to injury that they’re all questioning it too. but finally, they stop coming, and he’s pretty sure it’s over.
and now that he’s no longer focused on repeatedly putting the rumor to bed, he’s pissed.
of course chris knows it was you behind all of it, because who else would it be. he just can’t believe you thought of it, that you bested him at his own game.
there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he feels like he could run a mile. but he doesn’t. instead he jams his feet into his sneakers and orders a car, on a path of complete destruction.
you're midway through an episode of broad city when you hear a pounding on your front door, which you don’t expect. it surprises you so much that you actually have to take a second to calm your racing heart down from the panic.
you know who it is too, which scares you more. you weren’t expecting him to just show up like this, especially since it’s only been a little over fifteen minutes since your latest prank.
you were thinking maybe there would be an angry confrontation next time you went over to their house, but not right now.
the knocking comes again, louder and more impatient this time. you finally bring yourself to get off the couch, heading for the front door and squaring your shoulders as you go.
you swing it open a second later, and even though you expected him, you’re still troubled by chris’s expression. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so infuriated, so intense.
his eyes are dark as he stares you down, muscles straining and on display in his black wife beater. his entire face is flushed, and even though you know he took an uber here, it looks like he could’ve sprinted the whole way.
“do you think you’re fucking funny?” he seethes, taking a step toward you.
instinctively you move backwards, like two opposite ends of a magnet. chris raises an eyebrow, and you tilt your head.
“am i laughing?” you ask sharply.
“why are you messing with my life like this, huh? all because i made a comment to some dumbass kid?” he continues to rail you with questions.
you literally can’t help but just blink at him for a moment, completely at a loss over the fact that he sees nothing wrong with what he did.
“if you really believe that it wasn’t a big deal, you’re even worse than i thought.” you respond, voice quiet but lethal.
this time his anger actually falters, and his grimace turns to a slight frown. you’ve cursed him out plenty of times, but somehow this feels way more real. and it rips through him like a knife.
“yeah, i’m the awful one. you wanna know what wes was saying about you to his friends in the gym that day? he said that he was trying to fuck you for the roster, and that he was hoping to do it after your date so he wouldn’t have to see you again.”
he reveals this information rather bluntly. it just falls out of his mouth, and there’s no way to stop it, so he keeps going, “and then i told him all that stupid shit about you to scare him away, because i thought it was easier to keep hating me than to hear the truth about him.”
your jaw goes slack, lips parting even though you have no thoughts running through your head. or, more specifically, you’re having so many thoughts crowding you that you can’t pick one.
“i—okay, let me get this straight. instead of just being honest with me, you let me wait around outside a fancy restaurant by myself for an hour like a fucking fool?” you grill him, still somehow finding a way to be pissed off.
“i didn’t want to hurt you.” chris counters, taking another step toward you so he’s almost inside the doorway.
you stand your ground this time, staring him down defiantly. “don’t give me that bullshit, you’ve been tormenting me since the day we met and you know it.”
he shakes his head, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips. “why do you insist on misunderstanding me?”
“because you don’t make any sense! first you hate my guts, and now i’m supposed to just accept that you were supposedly looking out for me the whole time?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.
“i never hated you, y/n. not even for a second. and i know it’s not my place but he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, especially not after what he said.”
this absolutely infuriates you, and you place both of your hands in between your two bodies to shove him back onto the little patio. he’s stunned by your temper, but he only lets it show for a moment.
“what, and you do? you ever think about all of the shit you’ve said about me, chris?” you’re louder now, because you feel like you’re being made to look like an idiot.
he just approaches again, which sends you backing up into the apartment as he follows close behind. chris kicks the door shut and reaches out, one hand slipping behind your neck while the other moves to hold onto your hip, forcing you close to him.
“i didn’t mean any of it. i liked you from the moment i met you, and i hated that, so i took it out on you to try and keep you away. but i didn’t mean it,” he emphasizes, leaning in slightly so he’s practically breathing his words against your mouth, “let me show you.”
you can smell the musky cologne on his skin, trying so hard to ignore the shiver running down your spine from his proximity alone. your heart is beating out your of your chest and you briefly wonder if he can hear it.
“i don’t…i can’t trust you, chris.” you reply, turning your head so you can avoid his gaze, but he won’t let that happen.
he forces you to look back at him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck so he can guide your head straight. chris watches your eyes grow wide, lips parting ever so slightly as your resolve continues to fade.
“yes you can, i promise. let me show you what i really think about you, please.” he begs, tilting a bit more so that his lips ghost over yours, testing the waters.
you haven’t been properly kissed in quite some time, and the desire to give in is so strong that you can’t fight any longer. so you lean into it, throwing your arms up so you can wrap them around his neck and pull him flush against your chest.
his mouth melts against yours, tentatively at first to make sure you’re comfortable. when you start to pick up the pace, kissing him with a newfound fervor, chris begins to let his tongue wander against yours more passionately.
then his hands slide down to grip your ass tightly, kneading the supple flesh with his fingers. you gasp against his mouth, an airy and delicate sound that makes his stomach twist. he’s been dying to hear that for over a year now.
a second later you feel him bite down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and admiring the way the skin recoils as he lets go. you didn’t realize how much you would enjoy the mixture of slight pain and pleasure.
“tell me you want this too.” chris demands, lining his mouth up with your ear so that he can speak lowly.
normally you would protest, or insult him, or roll your eyes, but things have completely changed in the last few minutes. now all you can think about is how soft his kisses are, how you want to feel them all over.
so you nod with those doe eyes locked on him as he pulls away to study you, taking in your flustered state. “i want you to show me, chris.”
the sentence is music to his ears, and he can’t believe this is actually finally happening. you break your grasp on his neck, taking a step back so you can slip your hand into his.
you lead him down the hall toward your bedroom, heart thumping against your ribcage with each step you take. you’re nervous, but you also somehow feel more comfortable with him than the few guys who came before.
and sure, you’d never fully had sex with any of them. but now you’re kind of glad you didn’t, so chris can be your first.
your room is a bit messier than you’d like considering you weren’t expecting company, especially not in this part of the house, but you don’t have time to fix it now. it’s not like he gives a single shit; the only thing he’s focused on is you.
the tiny shorts you’re wearing have started to ride up as you tug him along, which only grabs his attention more. chris gives your butt a light smack with his free hand before twirling you back into his side with the other, pressing a steady kiss to your lips.
you laugh slightly, because you can’t help it, which makes him smile against your mouth. it really does feel corny, but he doesn’t care all that much. for you, he’s willing to drop the tough guy act.
“are you sure about this?” chris asks as he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours as he awaits a response.
you lean in to peck him swiftly again before speaking. “i’m sure, really.”
he nods once, guiding you a few steps backwards so you fall down onto your own plush bed sheets. for a moment he admires the way your hair fans out around you, the slight ‘o’ of surprise that your lips make, trying to capture a mental picture of the moment.
your fingers find the bottom of his shirt in an attempt to speed things up, wrapping the material into your fist and bringing him down on top of you. he braces himself, arms on either side of you while he nudges your legs apart so his knee is between them.
you let your hands grasp his mostly bare shoulders as his head dips down, pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, the hollow area underneath your earlobe. soft little noises fall from your lips as chris finally reaches your neck, careful not to be too rough as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat.
he adores it and he wants to hear more, to make them louder. so his mouth trails to your collarbone, which is luckily on display since you’re in a tube top. and then he lifts his thigh forward a bit more, ensuring that his knee brushes right against your clothed heat.
your hips grind down against his muscles almost involuntarily, eliciting a real moan as your cunt throbs desperately. you rock your hips against him at a quicker pace, loving the pressure that's beginning to build in your stomach from the stimulation.
“mmm, y’sound so pretty.” chris grumbles against your body, tongue sloppily running over the now irritated areas.
it’s the first time he’s ever really praised you, and considering it’s coming from the person you least expected, it makes it that much sweeter.
he pauses, pulling his head up so that he can hover over you. his hands begin to slide underneath your top suggestively and you help him, wiggling the stretchy material over your head.
you toss it to the floor, chest fully on display as the cold air rushes over your hardened nipples. a long breath passes by his lips as he takes you in, his dick straining against his sweats now as you gaze at him bashfully.
“quit staring.” you complain, though your voice holds no conviction.
“you make it hard not to.” chris shakes his head with a smile, leaning back down so that he can brush your worries away with another brief kiss.
this time you can feel his hard-on pressed against the inside of your thigh as his mouth searches yours, sloppier yet somehow sweeter this time around. his hand dances across your hip and up your side, moving higher and higher until his fingers are grazing over one of your exposed breasts, stopping to massage it roughly.
your back arches, rutting your chest into his grasp as you groan against his lips. chris pulls away, tiny smirk morphing his features.
“aw, you like that baby?” he goads, spreading his other palm out against the previously untouched mound of flesh, squeezing your nipples between his fingers lightly.
you can feel the wetness pooling at your core as he stays poised between your legs, continuing to tweak the sensitive buds in a way that’s deliciously enjoyable. you’re writhing under his hands, and he loves that you’re completely in his control.
but chris also knows that he can take you further, satisfy you more than you could’ve ever imagined. so he bows to your body, attaching his mouth to your throat and leaving several messy kisses.
his lips shift to brush against the area right above your chest, nipping at the skin lightly as he brings one hand back to grasp one of your tits. finally, he gets far down enough to flick his tongue across one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other gently, swapping between them after a moment.
“fuck, chris.” you whimper, mind already becoming fuzzy from the carnal desire for more.
“god i love hearing you moan my name.” he admits before sucking the sensitive bud back into his mouth, toying with it a bit more just to drive you crazy.
he stays there for a moment as you both enjoy the dragged out foreplay. it’s a moment with you that he’s waited for for what seems like an eternity, and he wants it to last as long as possible.
and as much as he would like to linger in this spot forever, chris is craving even more of you. the tent in his pants is still growing from all of your beautiful noises and expressions, but he’s only worried about making this the best experience for you.
so he carries on, trailing down the valley of your breasts, wetting the area as he continues. he presses several slow kisses against your stomach, in a straight line leading directly to the waistband of your cotton pants.
you watch as he looks up at you through his long lashes, pupils blown out in lust. “can i take these off, pretty girl?”
“please.” the roles are reversed and now you’re the one begging him.
“so needy.” chris drags the ‘y’ out slightly as he simultaneously does the same thing to your shorts, careful to tug your thin and soaked panties with them.
the air rushes over the slickness that’s already developed, and you instinctively close your legs. you’ve never had anyone actually go down there, just a guy who stuck his hand in your pants to finger you—very poorly, if you’re honest—during seven minutes in heaven well over a year ago.
so it makes you a little self-conscious having him this close. he’s quick to pry you apart again, fully lowering himself to the floor of your room so he’s face to face with your pussy.
“can’t believe no one has ever seen you like this, you little tease.” his voice is low as he starts kissing your inner thigh, working his way in, “wanna taste you so bad.”
he’s growing closer to where you need him, and you throb when you feel his lips graze the innermost part of your leg. chris blows one singular breath right across your cunt, which shocks you slightly, before pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to your clit.
you feel your legs tremble a little bit in his palms, your hands automatically going to tangle in his hair. a long whine escapes as his tongue works across you, and you can literally feel him smile in satisfaction.
the fact that it’s his mouth making you squirm like this, that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to eat you out, is something he’s currently taking a lot of pride in.
he lightly teases your entrance, moving back and forth from that and sucking on your pulsing clit. it makes you grip onto his roots tighter, grinding down onto his face slightly as you moan his name again like a prayer. he swears he could cum in his pants right now, without you even touching him.
“you’re so fucking sexy.” he purrs against your cunt, the vibrations sending another tiny jolt through your body.
you can feel how hot your face is, how tense your stomach has become, and you can’t bring yourself to find any words. that is, until his fingers glide across your clit, rubbing over it lightly as you throw your head back against the mattress.
“holy shi—oh!” your voice catches in your throat midway through your sentence as he suddenly slips a finger inside.
a lewd noise escapes your throat once he does so, and he begins to pump it slowly. you’re finding it nearly impossible to keep your hips planted on the mattress, so he guides your leg over his shoulder and digs his nails into your skin to keep you still.
you rock your pelvis forward, connecting with his hand harder now as you chase the sensation, listening to the wet sounds of him gliding in and out of your cunt. chris adds another one of his slender fingers inside of you, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to contain some of the desperate noises you’re making.
his own cock is pulsing as he continues, admiring the way your tits jiggle as he picks up his pace, the way your hair is slightly matted while your mascara collects under your eyes. he knows you want more just based on the way you’re bucking to meet his fingers, but he wants to hear you say it.
“is there something you’d like, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing another open kiss to your overstimulated clit.
you look down at him, meeting those pretty blue eyes as he awaits an answer, and you feel yourself shiver in both anticipation and from the current excitement.
“more, chris. i—need you.” you finally manage to get it out, voice pinched as you speak.
“what do you need, huh? you gotta tell me, use those words.” he demands further, and even though his taunting makes you shy, you realize you’ll have to answer if you want him to continue.
“need you inside me, baby.” you plead breathlessly, and he lets out an involuntary groan at the use of the pet name.
he didn’t expect you to play into the dirty talk, and at this point his erection is begging to be set free, to have you wrapped around him. so chris slows his fingers to a stop, leaving you feeling empty as he removes them.
a pout takes over your features as he stands up, placing his fingers in his mouth so he can suck your wetness off of them. it’s ridiculously racy, and it leaves you clenching around nothing as you wait for his next move.
“wanna be buried in this pretty pussy so bad.” chris growls, reaching to yank his wife beater over his head.
his chain bounces against his collarbones as he throws it away half-hazardly, tugging his boxers and sweatpants down to his ankles a second later. your eyes widen slightly as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach as he steps out of his clothes.
precum dribbles out of the tip, which is angry and red from desire. you’re completely in a trance, staring as he takes himself into his own hand, pumping a few times so he can spread the slick around.
he notices the way you’re studying him in amazement, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “d’you want to give it a try, princess?”
your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you’re scared, you really want to learn how to make him feel good too. so you nod silently, extending your hand toward his cock, hesitating once you’re close enough.
“spit in your palm, wrap your fingers around it and then stroke, just like i was.” he instructs, so you suck in a breath and do as you’re told.
your newly-wetted hand closes around the bottom of his shaft, and he hisses out a curse as you start working up and down, squeezing the sensitive skin timidly. your thumb runs over his slit and he lets out a low moan, fucking himself into your fist.
“a-ah shit, just like that.”
you adore the admiration, unable to contain your smile as you apply some more pressure. his head is tilted back to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the brief handjob. but chris can already feel the orgasm building, so he stills your movements by placing his fingers over your own.
your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “was it bad?”
he shakes his head immediately before he settles back down on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms as he leans in for a kiss. the taste of your arousal still lingers on his lips, which you surprisingly enjoy way more than expected.
“no, if anything it was too good. i would’ve finished from that alone.” chris admits against your mouth, which makes you feel insanely content.
“can’t have that, can we? not when i need you to fill me up.” you reply in a sultry tone, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that the comment made him blush.
“jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.” he grumbles, moving to run his tongue along your jaw as his hand wraps around your throat.
chris squeezes the sides of your windpipe lightly, rutting his hips upward so that his dick slides against your drenched folds. the warmth from your center immediately causes his breathing to become labored, and you whimper as you feel his tip nudge your swollen clit.
“are you ready?” he pants into your ear, and you mumble a few pathetic words of confirmation to spur him on.
with that, chris uses the hand that was previously on your throat to line himself up at your entrance, looking up to catch your eye again. he pauses for a moment, so you give him a nod of encouragement.
“tell me if it gets too uncomfortable.” he says, intertwining his free fingers with yours so you have something to hold on to.
then he slowly starts to push himself inside, beginning with just the tip as your eyes screw shut. the stretch is painful at first, like you’re being split wide open by the sheer size of him, so you focus on your breathing as your grip on his hand tightens.
inch by inch he fills you up, until finally his full length is being gripped by your plush walls. you wince at the agonizing pressure, your nails digging into his back as he waits for you to adjust. you’re already clenching around him involuntarily, and he lets out a long groan.
“you alright, baby?” chris questions a beat later, concern laced in his voice.
“yeah, i think so.” you reply quietly.
“keep breathing, i’ll take it slow.” he promises, trying to comfort you as best he can.
you just nod, still latched onto his shoulder while his thumb strokes the back of your hand. his other palm clutches your hip, steadying himself as he begins to move in and out. you choke on your breath, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming ache.
it’s a feeling unlike any other, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out. slowly but surely he picks up his rhythm, rocking into you sensually as you finally begin to transition into the pleasurable part of the experience.
a moan falls from your lips, muffled slightly by his skin. it surprises the both of you, and it makes chris flush, completely aroused by the fact that he’s the first guy to ever make you feel this way.
“doing so well, taking it all for me.” he says in a whiny tone, shifting to give you a kiss as he marvels at how tight you’re squeezing him.
the pressure in your stomach from earlier comes back, building as chris begins to snap his hips a bit quicker. gasps escape your throat on loop every time he plunges back into your cunt, and he grunts from the feeling of you enveloping his dick.
“oh my god.” you whimper pathetically, positioning your hand on the back of his neck so you can pull yourself in to meet his strokes.
he loves that you’re taking more control, that you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself. he can feel himself growing closer to the edge, and it doesn’t help that you’re now clenching around him every time he bottoms out.
but he holds on, letting go of your hand so he can bring it between your bodies, brushing two fingers over your clit. you practically convulse in surprise, your pornographic moans filling the room as he rubs tiny circles against the sore bud.
“shit, chris!” you cry, and you can feel the band in your stomach getting ready to snap.
“let ‘em know, princess, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good.” he slides his fingers against you quicker, plunging so deep now that he’s tapping your cervix with every pump.
“i’m—” you don’t even have time to finish your sentence before your abs tense up, legs uncontrollably shaking now.
you lean into the wave, letting it wash over you as you find your release. chris is close behind, shuddering as his thrusts grow needy and sloppy. then you feel him twitch, his hot cum mixing with your own as it pours out from his slit. he eventually stills a few seconds later, both of your chests heaving as he slowly slides out of you for good.
he rolls to his back, slumping beside you so that both of your arms are pressed together as you each regain your breath.
you’re scared to speak first, terrified really, so when you hear chris clear his throat you’re thankful that he’s breaking the silence.
“that was…you’re so…fuck, you’re just perfect.” chris fumbles with his words, and you glance over at him with a small grin.
“i’m really glad it was you, chris. thank you.” you press a sweet kiss to his cheek, and this time you’re positive he’s blushing.
“i’m glad it was me too.” he confesses as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.
it’s a comfortable feeling, being held by him, and it’s one that you want to enjoy forever.
“to think, we could’ve been doing that this whole time.” you rag on him a little, unable to remain completely serious.
he buries his chin in your neck, breath tickling your ear as he responds. “good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#Spotify#christopher sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#first time
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5 minutes (Art Donaldson)
Description: Y/N tells art she’ll be back in 5 minutes but he gets concerned when she’s gone longer
Warning: Smut
Word Count: 1,542k
Author’s note: Send in Challengers request please!
When Art divorced Tashi he didn’t have a place to stay so his best friend Y/N offered to split a house payment with him. Art and Y/N have been friends since college. She was there when Tashi and him began dating, when they got married and when he divorced her. Y/N had her thoughts about the relationship but never said anything to him until after the divorce. “She was like using you because she couldn’t play.” “She never loved you, she loved Tennis. You deserve better.” “She was always so bitchy all of the time.” It made Art laugh.
He agreed with her and was upset that he couldn’t see it before. Another thing he couldn’t see before was how in love he was with his best friend. She never showed interest in him like that so he thought it was off the table and even now living together she still didn’t show interest. He wondered if she thought of him as just a bestie and nothing more. He also wondered if she was hiding her feelings because she always had to because of Tashi. Tashi was never jealous of their friendship. She thought it was sweet that Art had someone to talk to that wasn’t her.
A part of Art thinks that this is what Tashi wanted. He watched as Y/N ran around the kitchen trying to cook dinner. “Are you sure you don’t want help?” He asked, she nodded and took off her apron. “Positive. Now let me go change.” She said and ran out of the kitchen. He laughed as she did so. It would be 5 minutes until he started to worry why she wasn’t back yet. He got up and walked to her bedroom door. He knocked on the door before he decided to enter it. She didn’t answer so he decided to open the door. “Y/N?” He called out but still nothing. As he entered her room he noticed that she was in the shower.
He took a minute to look around her room. It was filled with nerdy stuff that she liked and was painted purple. It was so pretty. He sat on her bed and admired how comfortable the mattress was compared to his. He didn’t hear the shower stop and when she opened the door they both gasped. She drops her towel to reveal herself to him. It was the perfect cliche moment between them. He just stared at her, he didn’t even look away or apologize. “Art?” He snapped out of it. “Yeah?” She gave him a look. “Is there a reason you’re in my room?” “I was worried you only said you were changing.” He said. She nodded and cleared her throat picking up the towel. His eyes still weren’t looking away from her.
She walked up to him, noticing that his eyes were glued to her boobs. “Art are you okay?” She asked. He looked up at her and it made her melt. The look he gave was one of lust and need. His breathing was a little heavy. She cupped his chin with her hand. He didn’t stop her nor flinch. “Do you want me Art?” She asked in a soft voice. He nodded against her hand unable to speak without whining. She pushed him back on the bed so he was laying down. She crawled on him and straddled him. Her body was still wet from the shower making him wet as well.
But he didn’t care not when he had her on top of him. She leaned down and kissed him. His hands went to her back as he kissed her back. Her wet hair covered their faces. Her hands were cupping his face as they made out. Once she needed to breathe she pulled away but he followed her lips wanting more. “I’ve always wanted you Art.” She whispered against his lips. “Really?” He asked. She nodded and her hand traveled to his PJ bottoms. He felt himself shake as she reached into his pants and touched his hard dick. Her hand felt amazing.
His hips bucked up into her touch as he let out a loud moan. It was pathetic. He was already falling apart and she was barely touching him. She kissed her way down to his dick. “These are in the way.” She said talking about his PJ pants. He nodded in agreement and she pulled them down. She looked up at him with a smirk as she grabbed his dick again. He hissed out and bucked his hips. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were closed. She licked the base of him, making him take a sharp breath. Her hand was still on him making him beg. “Please.” He whined softly. His whines were so pretty she wanted to hear more.
“Please what?” She asked, well knowing what he wanted. “Your mouth.” He begged. “You want my mouth here?” She said and took him in her mouth. “Oh yes fuck!” He moaned. She hummed against him and took him deeper until he hit the back of her throat. His hands went to her still wet hair. His hips bucked up, almost making her gag around him. She pushed his hips down so he couldn’t do that and she proceeded to give him the best blowjob he’s ever gotten. He wasn’t quiet about anything. Not that he had to be but he was very loud. The poor man probably never had anyone focus on his pleasure. It only took him 2 minutes before he was begging her to let him cum. She pulled her mouth off him and replaced it with her hand. “You wanna cum?” She asked, he nodded.
He couldn’t form words. “I wanna hear you say it.” She tells him. “Please baby let me cum.” He babbles. “Cum for me Art.” She said and replaced her hand with her mouth again. His hips bucked again and all his cum went down her throat. He whined her name as she let him ride out his high. She swallowed and pulled off him looking up at him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was hard. “Holy fuck. That was amazing.” He breathed out. She chuckled and straddled him again. “You’re so pretty when you moan.” She whispered in his ear and bit it playfully. He looked at her with all the love and adoration in his eyes. “I wanna taste you.” He says. She puts her finger against his lips, “another time. I need you inside of me.” She says. He got excited at her saying another time. She positioned herself right above his already hardened cock again.
He placed his hands on her hips to steady her. She slowly slid down on him causing them both to gasp. For both of them it’s been a while since they’ve had sex. Her pussy was tight, squeezing him in. He loved every second of it. “Fuck Art. You’re so big.” She whispered as she sat on him, fully taking him in. He looked at her as she adjusted for a second. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells her, she felt her cheeks heat up. She started slowly moving her hips taking her time. He threw his head back and little pleasurable sounds filled the room. She started moaning too and looked down at where they connected. “Art baby, look at how perfect you fill me.” She moaned.
He managed to open his eyes and look at where they connected. It made him whimper. She was taking him so well and looked so hot while doing so. “It’s so hot.” She moaned. His hands gripped her hips, definitely leaving bruises as she sped up. She let her eyes close and her head fall back. The bed started rocking with them making noise. It turned them on even more. “Art, do you think you can take over?” She asked as she felt herself get weak. Without answering she flipped her over and started pounding into her.
Her moans got so much louder as he started hitting her g spot. His name fell from her lips like a prayer. His mouth was right by her ear whining. Her legs wrapped around his hips pushing him in deeper. She felt herself getting closer and closer to her release as he pounded into her. “Art, I’m so close, baby.” She moaned out. He hummed, acknowledging her but not being able to respond. He’s been on the edge this entire time but he wanted her to cum first. Her pussy clenching around him didn’t make it easier.
Her hands gripped his shoulders for dear life as she let herself go all over him. He sighed in pleasure and relief as he let himself cum as well. Her moans were extremely louder as she rode out her high. Art pulled back from her neck to watch her. Her eyes were rolled back and soft moans fell from her lips. He stared down at her as she came down from her high. She gave him a soft tired smile as her high subsided. “Wow.” She said. He cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her. “Oh my gosh Art.” She pulled away. He looked at her confused. “What?” “Dinner!”
#challengers movie#challengers 2024#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson x you#art donaldson smut#mike faist#josh o'connor#zendaya#tashi duncan#patrick zweig
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tired
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: explicit
warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED
a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago
word count: 2.6k
masterlist
Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it.
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight.
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?”
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly.
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up.
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t.
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze.
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight.
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears.
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath.
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch.
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did.
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
#iamasaddie fic#joel miller x reader#Joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you
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“ sweetheart ★ ”
— ꒰ 💌 ꒱ drug dealer! matt x baker! reader
— ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ after a deal almost went sideways, matt decides to pay a quick visit to his sweet girl.
— ꒰ 🐁 ꒱ fluff ! making out.. tbh nothing really lol (but the ending😦). 1726 words.
— ꒰ ☁️ ꒱ erm i think this is my most boring fic ever 😜
what was only supposed to be a fast and easy twenty minute meetup turned into an hour long negotiation. matt had his jacket-covered back against a wall, hunched over as he coughed out strings of spit.
one of the guys he was supposed to meet was on the floor, a broken nose the was leaking deep red blood. his bottom lip quivered, closing against the upper one once the blood tried to make its way in his mouth.
matt watched intensely, eyes flickering up every now and then to make sure the other few men that let the sudden fight didn’t try anything. they held smirks on their faces, arms crossed as they stood tall.
“are you done?” the one on the far left rhetorically asked. matt glanced back to the guy on the floor before nodding, standing as straight as he could with his sore ribs.
his face crumpled into a snarl, “what the fuck was that?” he questioned, referring to what just happened. “we just wanted to test you.” one of them answered. “test me?” matt scoffed, “i could’ve killed him.”
“we know, but you didn’t.” the middle one shrugged, “you don’t live up to the family name, matthew.” before matt could respond, he continued, “we heard you were fearsome, someone that makes people shudder in fear at the mention.. and here you are letting a man that dared to take you on live.”
“thought he was one of your men, didn’t want to start anything neither of us could finish.” matt defended. “or.. you’ve gone soft.” the one on the right smiled, “word on the street is you’re wrapped around a girls finger, that true?”
matt immediately shook his head, holding a disgusted look, “i don’t know where you got that from but it’s a fuckin’ lie.”
“unless its straight from me dont believe shit.” the three guys gave matt a pointed look, but decided to not push it. “leave the package where you are and leave.” they commanded.
matt held out his hand for his payment before. the middle man rolled his eyes, stepping forward to place a wad of hundreds in his hand. he looked at the papers, doing quick mental math before leaning down and sliding the small box of goods to where he was standing.
“oh, and matt.. if we find out you lied, there will be a target on your lover.” one of them threatened, shooing him off as even more men walked in the room to pick up the bruised body that was still on the floor.
matt sucked in a breath, turning away and walking out the door. he contemplated in the car, he was well aware of how dangerous the life style he was living was, simply showing you were interested in him would have your life at risk and he just couldn’t do that to anybody.
but there was just something about you. he couldn’t stay away no matter how much he knows he should. you originally met when he had to hide from somebody and random the first building he saw; a small pink bakery building that he didn’t realize was in the process of cleaning for closing.
matt has never been told off in his life, but that night you scolded him for twenty minutes on how rude it was. the next morning he came by to buy a donut that seemed awfully delicious, and offered to take you to dinner as an apology.. who were you two refuse free food?
now what seemed like every night matt would swing by around the same time, almost every time half helping clean up and and half munching on the desserts that weren’t bought.
not breaking routine, even after the prominent threat, instead of making a left to drive to his well sized mansion, he made a right and quickly the familiar building was in his vision.
matt parked his car down the street, choosing to walk the rest of the way incase anybody was tracking the vehicle. he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bakerys window, licking over the cut on his lip before treading inside and being hit with the overbearing smell of dough.
you were in the back, humming along to the taylor swift song playing as you washed the dirty pans, putting them on their respective drying wrack.
he watched from the doorframe, taking in the sight of how simple and innocent you looked. he would hate to be the one to ruin that part of you, you didn’t even know what his job was- but he wasn’t gonna let you know from the hands of higher class men he had to deal with.
matt walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply to take in your scent.
“hi.” he sighed. you smiled, wiping your hand on your apron before bringing it up to toy with the front of his hair. “hey, you okay?” you whispered to him, as if it’d disturb anyone.
he began peppering kisses along your shoulder before bringing his mouth up to your cheek, “just had a long fuckin’ day, missed you too.” he mumbled against your skin.
you nodded, turning to face him. your smile turned into a frown, your thumb lightly tugging at the ripped skin his lips were, “what happened?” you met his gaze, waiting for answers.
matt pulled your hand away, holding it with both of his, “clumsy and fell on the way here, nothing to worry about.” he reassured.
you kept the eye contact with him. matt wasn’t a bad liar, but he made it obvious with how he tensed and untensed. you nodded again, sucking your teeth, “i should have a bandaid around here somewhere.” your hands dug in the pockets of your apron before pulling out a hello kitty designed bandaid.
matt internally cringed at the design. “uh, i don’t think that’s necessary-“ “shut up?” you cut him off, “you’re the one that got hurt, not me, you have no say.”
he rolled his eyes, grabbing your hips to sit you on the kitchens counter. you giggled at him, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.
matt winced, making you instantly unwrapping them, “whats wrong?” he shook his head, trying to keep a calm expression. your fingers gripped the end of his shirt, slowly dragging it up and revealing the overly reddened skin that was turning purple by the second.
you looked back up at him, suspicion even higher. “i fell, ‘member?” you scoffed, “i’ve fallen a million times i never once got bruised like that.”
he rolled his eyes again, “are you gonna put the stupid bandaid on or what?” you lightly smacked his shoulder, “don’t call hello kitty stupid, you’re stupid.”
matt just laughed, pouring out his bottom lip for the bandaid. his fingers traced small shapes on your hips as you unwrapped it, occasionally giving small squeezes.
“pretty stylish, no?” he joked, turning his head to the side, giving you the full view of the silly bandaid. you smiled, “of course it is, its mine.” you wrapped your hands around his neck, pecking his lips.
matt held your head in place, keeping you there as he continued the kiss. you tugged at the ends of his hair, “the bandaids gonna come off if you don’t stop.” you warned, matt shrugged, leaning in for another kiss.
his tongue pushed against your bottom lip, having you open your mouth wider so he could stick his tongue inside. your tongues met, fighting and tangling against each other as matts over took yours, deepening the kiss even further.
his hands trailed all around your body, wanting to touch every part he psychically could. you moaned softly into the kiss as his hands squeezed under your thighs, grabbing and squeezing your ass.
matt couldn’t pull away. you tasted like chocolate cookies, which wouldn’t be incorrect considering you were snacking on them whilst cleaning. he tasted like root beer and a cigarette you know he smoked before arriving, but it didn’t matter, wasn’t strong enough to make you pull away in disgust.
once you both finally pulled away, it was only to take a quick breathing break. your foreheads rested against each others, small smiles on both of your faces.
“you drive me insane, you know?” he laughed, but his eyes seemed to be full of pure love, “just such a sweetheart.” he whispered, moving the bottom of his head, pecking your lips.
you nodded with a huge smile. your thumb pressed the bandaid back on his lips, but it was barely sticking. you groaned, “see, i knew this would happen! that was my last one too!”
“i’ll buy you s’more then.“ he pecked your lips once more. “you better.. but i guess take it off for now, its weird with it on.” he complied, ripping it off before leaning over to put it in the trash.
matts ring-cladded hands clasped against your thighs, “cmon sweetheart, we gotta finish cleaning.” he unnecessary helped you down from the counter. “can you hurry and sweep out there?” before matt could whine about anything, “i may have left a slice of cake on the holder for you. gotta go clean be for you can eat it, though.”
he nodded, shrugging his jacket off before walking to the front and grabbing the broom. matt hurriedly swept across the floor, there wasn’t much crumbs or trash on the floor so it was easier than ever.
a noise from outside pulled matts attention. his eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to the front door with the expectation of seeing just a random critter, but the street was empty.
a moment passed and matt leaned from the door. his eyes stayed trained on the outside before being able to make out a figure.
the figure slowly began creeping closer. once the streetlight hit them, matt could see who, or what it was. they were in all black, the ski masks logo they were wearing being the only thing with color.
his heart quickened. matt knew what logo it was. he looked back at the empty doorway leading to the kitchen before back to the person.
matt chewed his cheek, making the quick decision to go outside, hand already grasping the weapon in his pocket.
masterlist , taglist , TTPD masterlist .
— ꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ @freshloveee , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @55sturn , @lanas-doll , @chrissv4mp , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @imwetforyourmom .
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo fluff#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo snaps#matt sturniolo series#sturniolos#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris x reader
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Happily Ever After (Ready, Aim, Shoot - Epilogue)
Hello!
This is the end of my serie Ready, Aim, Shoot but I really feel like you don't have to read the three other parts to understand it :)
Enjoy!
TW : None
(1) | (2) | (3)
Loving Alexia is easy. You know that your girlfriend is sometimes describes as someone shy, socially awkward, and sometimes too serious. Those people don’t know your Alexia. Your Alexia is sweet, caring, protective, loving, and attentive. She takes care of the people she loves; never lets you carry a shopping bag when she comes shopping with you and remembers everything you prefer since day 1.
And, as you look at your girlfriend coming out from the bathroom, you wonder how you are so lucky. She’s yours, she never left you when you were a mess and stay right here every single second. You are still recovering but you are way more in a healthy state than some weeks before. And not talk about when you came back from Middle East.
You needed some time to talk again to your former colleagues and way more time to talk to the families of the one who died. You went to the funeral of course, with Alexia, but some of them had kids or lovers and you didn’t have the strength to look at them in the eyes. And sometimes you imagined Alexia at their place, and you can’t imagine the pain. You asked her one time, how she would have reacted if you hadn’t come back alive.
She didn’t answer but explain to you how she reacted when she learned that you had an accident. And that she never loses faith in your comeback, because you promised, and you always kept your promises to her. You still have the necklace she gave you; it never left your body since that day.
Even when you go showering, even if your girlfriend teases you about it.
“What are you thinking about Cariño?” Alexia asks you.
“About my perfect girlfriend. Do you know her?” you smirk.
Alessia giggles and it’s a sound that she doesn’t let a lot of people hearing and you love it. Sitting on your lap, she passes her arms around your neck.
“Tell me more about her?”
“No, if I tell too many people how amazing she is, someone is definitively going to take her away from me” you smile before kissing her.
Alessia smiles against your lips, and you deepen the kiss, not being able to resist to the attraction you have for her. The hotel Alexia chooses offers you a lot of privacy. You have your private beach, jacuzzi and swimming pool. For eating, you can choose one of the restaurants in the area or to eat on the terrace thanks to the room service.
You have a lot of things to do here, swimming, going to the spa, sun tanning, going for an excursion or even diving. But for the first days, you almost didn’t leave your room, enjoying your room and the different facilities offered in it.
(You have a lot of amazing sex too.)
With your mental health getting better, you were able to finish your book and send it to several publishers before leaving for your holidays. You still haven’t had an answer, but you’re not really stressed. You know they probably have a lot of work and it’s the holidays, a lot of people aren’t working for now.
Alexia and you decided to forget a little your phone, you only take one hour during the day to do what you want. You usually answer to your friends and family and Alexia call her mother and sister.
That’s why you are surprised to wake up because of your phone buzzing on your nightstand. You manage to get out off Alexia’s arms to be able to take it and have a look on it. You frown when you see that this isn’t a number you already know. You get up, walking silently on the terrace.
“Hello?” you say when you far enough from Alexia.
“Hi. Am I talking to Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Yes, it’s me” you frown slightly.
You are stunned to learn that this woman is working in one of the publishers where you sent your book. And that they are interested in publishing it. You are still stuttering when a worried Alexia comes looking for you.
“Who was it?” she asks right before you hang up.
“A woman working for one of the publisher.” you mumble, still looking at your phone.
“And?”
Alexia seems stressed out like hell when you raise your eyes on her.
“They want to meet me when we come back to Barcelona. They are interested in publishing it.”
“What? Cariño that’s amazing!”
She’s smiling like she just wins another cup, and you can’t help but smile too. She’s right, of course it’s amazing. You just can’t believe it. Alexia takes you in her arms and makes you spin in the air. You laugh and pass your hand around her neck. She kisses you when she puts you back on the ground and you tiptoe to be able to kiss her in her neck.
“I’m sorry I woke you up though” you say after kissing her jaw one last time.
“It’s alright” Alexia smiles. “I’m used to be the one leaving bed first, it was a strange feeling waking up alone.”
“Well maybe you’ll stop leaving me in the morning now” you smirk.
Alexia chooses to not answer and just smile at you with malice. She doesn’t need a lot of sleep to feel rested and you sometimes envy her. She usually has done a lot of things when you wake up. Sometimes she made some calls for her job, she went running or has made progress on her various projects. Yes, because your girlfriend isn’t only a talented footballer, she makes other things too. You can talk about her foundation, More than eleven.
“Do you want to go to the restaurant to eat breakfast?”
You don’t really want to, to be honest. You would rather have only Alexia for you, being able to stare at her during the whole meal without passing for a creep. Your hesitation is easily seen by Alexia who is quick to add:
“Or we can stay here, just to two of us?”
“We can go to the restaurant if you want to. We haven’t seen a lot of people since we’re here.”
You shrug and smile slightly at her. She smiles back and take you by your hand to take you again in the bedroom. The light breeze makes the curtains fly when you enter the room again and Alexia takes the menu on the table to look about their propositions for the breakfast. You look over her shoulder, kissing it when your choice is made.
“I think I’ll take the one with avocado toast.”
Alexia nods and you sneak out to take a shower while she phones reception to place an order. You haven’t decided what you will do today, you know there is some excursion Alexia is interested about, so maybe you’ll join one.
Your heard Alexia coming inside the bathroom, even if the door is open very quietly and she makes almost not other noise when she gets out of her night clothes. You smile when she joins you under the shower, passing her arms around your waist and pressing her body against yours.
Your scares aren’t as visible as they were before, but you find confidence back for several times now, thanks to Alexia. She keeps telling you how beautiful she thinks you are, so you ended up believing her. You remember how you were studying her gaze and her face when she was telling you that kind of things, looking at any trace of lie. And how you looked at her when she saw you naked, looking for the slightest disgust. But nothing ever comes.
Your girlfriend seems to be sad when she tells you that you don’t have time to have fun under the shower, because of your breakfast being already prepared. But you know it will come at some point during the day, none of the both of you seems to be able to keep their hands away from the other.
“I wanted to talk about something with you” Alexia says slowly, when you are sitting on the terrasse, eating your breakfast.
You were looking at the sea being as far as the eye can see, but you report your attention on Alexia. She’s looking at you with a caution that intrigues you. She hasn’t look at you that way since a long time.
“Ok? Should I be worried or…?”
“I don’t think so” she smiles, and you feel relief almost immediately.
Alexia never lied to you.
You enjoin her to continue with a nod, posing your knife and fork next to your plate half-eaten. You are still very curious to know what can be in your girlfriend’s mind.
“I know I wasn’t really a lot at home lately, with my foundation and the others different things I was doing in addition of football” she begins “But now that everything is launched, I’ll be able to be home sooner and more. I’ll still have meetings or something, but I would be able to make it by video conference a lot.”
“Ok?” you answer, not really seeing where she went to go.
There is a moment of silence before she talks again.
“I want a baby.”
You blink several times, not really prepared to that. Sur you talked about having kids, but it was before your accident, and it doesn’t really come back in your conversations those past months. You were thinking that Alexia thought that you weren’t able to have a baby right now. Seems like you were wrong.
“I…”
“I know that maybe it’s a little bit precipitate because of what happened lately and that I was a lot away, but I swear that you always have been my priority and if we start the process to have one, I’ll be nothing more than my job at Barca and taking care of you.”
“Ale –“
“And I really think it’s the good moment. You’ll be able to write another banger while pregnant, I’ll install a desk on our room if you need to stay in bed. And I’ll cook everyday if you want me to.”
“My first book isn’t even published. And since when do you know the word banger?”
Alexia rolls her eyes and you smirk at her.
“What do you think?”
She looks almost shy, one thing she hasn’t be with you since your first dates. You don’t have to think about it for many minutes to be honest, you know she’s genuine about everything she just said. And you already can figure how much she will be protective over your child.
“Ok” you just answer.
“Ok?”
“Yes. Let’s have a baby.”
********
Alexiaputellas
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alexiaputellas Another Putellas is expected this summer🤍
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janafernandez3 My baby brother or sister 🥰
yourinstagram I love you 💜
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram Soon 👶🏼🍼
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alexiaputellas 💜🥰
claudia.pina I'm so excited for this
fan1 I want to know if its a girl or a boy 😭
Alexiaputellas and yourinstagram
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alexiaputellas After 9 months of wait and 29 hours of work, you are here. I can't explain how much I love you and how I'm proud of your Mami.
Welcome to the world Alejo Jaume Putellas Y/L/N.
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jennihermoso the feet of a future great striker 👀
elialexiaalba 🩵🩵🩵
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas
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Hey Chekhov! How do you start converting an AU idea from character sheets and mini comics into a plot outline for a full, continuous comic? Especially if the series you're basing it on isn't complete?
I've been following your white diamond Steven comics for years, and frankly, I love how it builds and continues the scaffolding canon laid to be something that is thematically still the same but also very unique. And I never thought I'll ever say this, but now I'm working on a canon-divergent AU with someone that's I think aiming to do something similar(continue the themes of canon but different). So I'll just like some advice, I suppose!
You might've answered something like this before, honestly, but I tried to dig a little and couldn't really find it.
Thanks, if you do answer this! I just want take the opportunity as well to say also that your comic and blog accompanied me through parts of my late teens, and I'm very grateful for you being a stabilizing influence during that time.
Thank you! I really appreciate you saying that, and I appreciate you respecting me enough to ask for advice.
As for your question...
Well, to be frank, I don't START with character sheets and mini-comics. In fact, for WD!AU, I didn't have any character sheets until I started season 2.
Think of your story as an aquarium. Your characters are fish.
Yes, they're important, but having a whole bunch of fish without any substrate, tanks, feed and WATER..... will not really make for a memorable aquarium experience.
The reality is that all stories should start with an end.
That's my personal approach, anyway.
What I mean is - you need to know the general idea for your story before you begin to write or plan it.
Let's try this:
1.Tell me about your story in THREE sentences!
Just three. Not long ones, just regular ones.
For my AU, @ask-whitepearl-and-steven, it would be:
"A young orphan runs away from home with a mysterious lady who seems more cryptid than human. He realizes that he's not human either - he used to be the ruler of an alien planet! He and the other aliens he meets decide to (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) and he (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (READACTED) (READ ANDCTED) (READ AND FIND OUT)."
YOU should know how YOUR story ends too! Even vaguely.
It helps if you know at what point you plan to lay down the pencil. Because if you DO know, you are always going to know which direction to walk in, even if the end is so far away it's beyond your line of sight.
It's true that when I began WDAU, I didn't have much information about White Diamond and white Pearl, because they had literally ONLY been introduced. I had to guess a lot of the details (like WP being Pink's originally) and what White would be capable of. And thankfully, my original intent for the story's end fit pretty well with what was later revealed!
But don't forget - you could also just fuck around with stuff! It's your story, after all.
And don't forget... to also look back!
2.Tell me WHY the story is happening in the first place.
There's a reason that the beginning of your story happens when it does. If there is no reason to start somewhere, then find a different place to start.
You should be able to tell me "We're picking up the story here because something significant has happened... and that significant thing happened BECAUSE...."
That 'because' is your main background information that should be revealed slowly throughout the story. In WDAU's case, we only have a few pieces of the puzzle. We know Greg's side. He know Earl's side. But there are still little bits and pieces missing! And they're all important for finding out WHY Steven ended up an orphan and WHY he is being followed by White Pearl (Earl) at the very start of the comic!
3.Tell me what the coolest and most interesting things to happen would be....and then write them!
I think this may be something that's rarely said out loud, but I will speak on the behalf of the people...
We should write the scenes we want to read. If you don't want to read the scene you're writing, then DON'T write it!
If you feel like you "have to" do a page and a half of 'lore' because you think it's traditional to have that 'explanation' about the location of your story, or the history of the species or whatever, you're simply wrong. There are other ways to reveal information aside from just forced paragraphs upon paragraphs of information that would make an SAT Reading Section sweat.
Instead, I recommend that you find the most exciting or hilarious way for the characters to discover the most important bits of info. Find a dramatic twist. Shove it into the narrative. Then, figure out what needs to happen to get there.
Ultimately, though, remember this: When you're taking advice from me or from others, don't forget to take advice from yourself, too! It's your story, after all. You know it best, and only YOU can figure out how to get it written.
I hope that helps at least a little bit! Writing it never easy, but it should still be enjoyable!
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Dangerous Woman
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *
Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mdni
Summary: You've known the High Lord's oldest son for years, but he has never seemed to take much of an interest in you. Did he think you were perhaps too... simple? Boring? Safe? It all comes to a head when you finally reveal how dangerous you can really be.
SR’s Note: THIS IS FILTHY HAHAHA IM SORRY. I have boarded the Eris train and haven't even THOUGHT about getting off yet -- I really hope you guys like this eeeeeek
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *
“Did you bring an extra pair of tights?”
“Always - top zipper. I think they’re a medium,”
“Ugh. You’re literally a lifesaver.”
*sigh* “Aren’t I?”
Your friend Amalia playfully winks at you, taking the extra pair of pantyhose from your overnight bag. You glance at her legs, eyes catching on the long rip down the side of her caramel colored tights she currently dons. Returning your gaze to the mirror you’re seated before, you continue to work on the black winged liner you were previously applying, tuning out the hustle and bustle around you. After a few moments of pinning down flyaways, powdering your nose once more, and practicing kissy faces in the mirror to yourself, you finally decide you’re ready.
You take a swig from the water canteen on your vanity, rolling your neck and swinging your ponytail in the process. Amalia catches your eye through the mirror from behind you, stalking closer with another girl wearing nothing but a tiny shimmering bralette and skirt set.
“You look hot, Y/N!” She squeals, flipping your ponytail and you beam at her, turning in your chair to meet her eyes. You might be “hot”, but Amalia… Amalia was beautiful. Her body curved in all the right places, and she knew how to move to draw the eye to each and every one. Not to mention her full lips, only matching the captivity of her almond shaped, chocolatey brown eyes that seemed to complement her rich skin tone in the best way. If you didn’t have such a life long… thing?… for the High Lord’s kid, you might even be attracted to her yourself.
“Ohhh, don’t flatter me too much Mal,” you say sweetly. She rolls her eyes, and stretches a hand to you. You take it, standing to your full height and smoothing the short black skirt down your upper thigh. The leather matched the knee high black leather boots you chose for tonight - and, of course, the miniature, rather revealing bikini top you sported as well. Amalia’s whoops and whistles, twirling you around and you make a show of sticking out your butt and pursing your lips, which leaves you both in a fit of laughter at your show.
“C’monnn,” she says, taking your freshly manicured hand in hers once more and guiding you toward the door. “I heard there are quite a few High Fae in attendance tonight.” She tosses a wink over her shoulder to you, and you stop dead in your tracks. Her blonde friend who’d been following close behind nearly bumps into your shoulder.
“Woah woah woah,” you say, black nails a blur as your hands wave in front of you. “High fae? Like… from this court?” You ask. Amalia allows a devilish grin to spread over her face.
“You heard me. Like… royal family, High Fae.” She responds, crossing her lithe arms over her chest. Your face immediately begins to heat.
“Ooh why? Is there someone you’re hoping to see?” Amalia’s bubbly blonde friend asks. The sequins on her bralette flutter as she practically bounces in excitement. You chew on an acrylic nervously.
“Only the High Lord’s oldest son,” Amalia starts, and you roll your eyes, feigning indifference. The blonde’s eyes widen in interest as she looks between the two of you, practically begging for more details. “Y/N has been in looove with him since she was a mere child-“
“Oh Amalia, you and your silly stories.” You huff, but the blonde claps her hands together, a wide smile taking over her face.
“Oh my gosh!! Really!” She is bouncing up and down now, and you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips as Amalia chuckles in amusement.
“Oh yeah, really. But, outside of this place, Y/N doesn’t actually speak to the guy,” Amalia clips, frowning at you. You return the sentiment. “I just don’t understand— you are such a good performer in here, why not show him any of that outside of Markov’s?” She asks.
“Uh, because I want him to like me for me? Not because I, ya know, sometimes hang out in a brothel?” You say, hands gesturing with each word. The blonde shakes her head.
“Wait a second. You actually know him? Like, in real life?” She asks. You nod, her crystalline blue eyes widening with the realization.
“She’s his family’s personal record keeper,” Amalia cuts in. “And, she literally grew up with the dude. Same school, same social circles, yada yada yada…” she says, waving a hand. The blonde takes your hand in hers affectionately, staring at you wide eyed.
“But, what will you do when he recognizes you if he comes here?” She asks. You open your mouth to answer, but stop as Amalia pulls something from her own bag beside the dressing room door.
“He usually isn’t seen in here,” she says, handing a black shiny … something? to you. “But, if he does, he won’t know. Because she has this to conceal her identity.” You arch a brow, unfolding the item placed in your hands.
“I mean, it even goes with your outfit. How could you refuse?”
ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
“Any luck?”
“Nope,” you say, tugging on the bottom of your black bunny mask with a defeated sigh. On a night like this, usually you’d have already found someone in search of your services, but… you couldn’t help but turn down just about every one with the High Fae rumor going around. You so desperately wanted to see Eris — or did you? Would it really be a good thing if he was hanging out in a brothel? You weren’t sure.
The fact of the matter was, Amalia was right — you’d been pining over this man for fucking centuries, and he never really seemed to spare you a second glance. You tried everything; being kind, being friendly, being honest. You’d opened up to him over time even, but no matter what he was just always that much more distant from you — like whatever step you’d take toward him, he’d take one backward. It hadn’t been until the last time you’d talked to him that you decided to try something different, to see if this new approach would get any rise out of him.
Was lying wrong? Yeah. Was it a punishable offense? Depends. Was saying you had a boyfriend to get a reaction out of him grounds for jail time? Absolutely not.
And ya know what? It didn’t even seem like he cared that much anyways.
“Listen babe, I’ve been keeping you company all night, but,” Amalia glances over her shoulder at a muscley brunette man eyeing her from a couch across the room. “…I’ve got a line of my own forming. Think you can manage on your own?”
Before you can respond, your new bubbly acquaintance from earlier beelines toward you two, out of breath when she finally makes it to you.
“I…. I think I found… your…” your head tilts as you try and make out what she’s saying between breaths, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Who?” Amalia asks in a hushed whisper. The blonde only turns, and both of your eyes follow her line of sight to the unmistakable head of auburn locks, standing and socializing in the room across the hall. Your breath catches in your throat; there’s no way he’s here.
“Ohhh… oh babes you know what you need to be doin’.” Amalia chuckles, and you glance at her, cheeks reddening.
“Now is not the time to be shy girl! And besides, you have on a damn mask, Cauldron’s sake; he won’t even know it’s you. Now go! Play up the “sexy” before someone else tries to snatch him away.” She shooes you on, and your feet spring into action. The heels of your boots tap tap tap across the wood floor, many gazes turning to you as you saunter toward the bar he’s standing in front of.
Play up the sexy, you remind yourself. He doesn’t even know you’re… you under here.
You approach the bar, leaning against it as the bartender walks up to you. The coolness of the steel eases the burning of your skin a little, and offers some stability in your nervous state.
“The usual,” you say with a wink, faking confidence. It works as Grevin, the usual bartender smiles, and begins on your Malibu with pineapple juice, *extra strong*, just how you like it. You feel your skirt riding up a bit as you lean further over the lip of the bar, exposing the backs of your upper thighs and you can feel his stare finally on you.
Perfect. Right where you want him. It’s not long before you hear his signature scoff next to you, as he leans on an elbow mere inches from where you stand.
“My my,” he begins, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. “What do we have here?” You slowly turn your gaze to meet his, and watch as his amber eyes drink you in fully, roaming from the very tips of your rabbit eared mask down to the toes of your leather boots. You gulp. Play up the sexy.
“You like what you see?” You ask teasingly, crossing one ankle over the other and folding your arms under your chest. Eris smirks, only inching closer to you and dragging his tongue over his lower lip as his eyes continue to feast on your exposed skin. Gods he’s so impossibly gorgeous-
“I do,” he says casually. He extends a soft hand, and you place yours in his. You feel like lightning ripples through you from his touch, and you want to relish in this most simplistic moment. “Eris.” He says.
Shit. Uhh… you didn’t think this far. He’s gazing at you like he’s expecting some kind of answer, and you try to quickly come up with a good fake name, but thankfully don’t have to — Grevin approaches and sets your drink down in front of you. You accept it, throwing it back and downing the whole thing.
“Impressive,” Eris drawls. When you finish, he pulls you closer, so close you can smell his familiar cinnamon and cedar scent. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in Markov’s?” In seconds, he’s given a glass of his own amber liquid. He swallows half of it, eyes returning to yours for an answer.
“I uh, I work here.” Another lie. You only came as Amalia’s guest sometimes to make extra cash, and in hopes maybe you’d see him here, finally getting some kind of fucked up chance to be with him.
He raises his brows, nodding slowly, and drains his glass. He catches Grevin’s eye, nodding when the bartender asks if you’d both like another round. Slowly, his fingertips have moved to dance along the edge of your leather skirt, his skin only skimming the tops of your thighs and you suck in a breath. He grins devilishly down at you, eyes tracing over the curve of your breasts spilling from your top. He suddenly leans in close, his breath warm against your neck, sending chills across your skin as he whispers darkly in your ear.
“Be careful, don’t you know how easily leather can…” his free hand twirls in a swift motion, a small flame eliciting in the process.
“…burn?” He chuckles. He pulls back to peer down at you again, and you roll your shoulders back, drawing your pointer finger to drag downward from his top lip to his chin. You barely notice the — not one round, but two extra rounds — of drinks Grevin has set before each of you as you take in Eris’ feral gaze.
The fire in his eyes only seems to ignite as you lean in, your cherry scent familiarly intoxicating as you reply lowly; “maybe I enjoy being a little dangerous.”
ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
“I never really come to these types of places,” Eris says breathlessly, his hand grasping yours as you lead him drunkenly toward a room you know would be open for the evening. He let you lead the way after a few more rounds and some small talk at the bar, not complaining about the view from behind as he followed you up the stairs and down the dark hallway.
“Don’t worryyy,” you slur. He chuckles behind you, and you arrive at door #17. This one is reserved for you, rarely used, but yours nonetheless. You fumble to unlock and open it, Eris’ warm hands tracing up and down your sides as you fiddle with the door. Once inside, you opt to keep the lights off, allowing the moonlight from the open window to illuminate the room enough to your liking.
You close the door behind you, and no sooner than it clicks shut, his hands are pushing you against the back of it. The leather of your outfit squeaks in protest against the wood of the door and Eris’ body now holding you against it, his dark chuckle sounding in your ear. It was enough to release a bit more of the wetness already drenching the small cloth offered by your thong.
“Somehow, even after the… three? Four? Drinks we had,” his hands snake beneath the back of your skirt, shoving it up over the curve of your butt and palming your ass. You let out a soft groan — you’d only ever dreamed of this before, even if you could only half see his face in the moonlight. “…I never caught your name, gorgeous.”
Your cheeks redden, and you take the opportunity of his lips being so close to yours to crash them together instead of answering. His fingers squeeze your ass and you yelp, your soft cry muffled by his warm lips on yours. You yank open his shirt, the buttons easily coming undone and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. One of his hands moves to cup your face, thumb running across your jawline lovingly before he pulls away to meet your stare once more.
“Fine then, don’t tell me little rabbit,” he says, eyes wandering from your lips up to the leather rabbit mask you bore. “You’ll just have to be my little bunny to play with tonight.”
With that, his mouth was attacking yours again, lips in a tango with yours and tongue swiping along the edge of your mouth. You open, allowing him access and deepening the kiss as you both battle for dominance. You’re just content to explore so deep into a cavern so delicious — one you’d never thought you’d taste, not in any of the centuries you’d lived. His hands are all over you, first moving to knead your breasts harshly, relishing in the soft moans he draws from you in the process. Once he’s had enough teasing, he pulls you flush against him by your waist, his hard length pushing into the softness of your stomach. The feel of his long member only increases the ache between your thighs.
“Don’t make me wait anymore,” he says, pulling away breathlessly, eyes darkly boring into yours. In a moment of courageousness, you shove him backward, a feline grin on your face as he falls back onto to his elbows on the bed behind him. He smirks as you crawl on top of him, working to undo his corduroy confines, slipping them past the protruding tent near his navel and discarding them haphazardly to the floor. He helps by kicking off his undergarments and you can’t help but stare at his toned abdomen, his impressive length springing free with the absence of the confines.
Positioning yourself on your knees between his legs, you seductively lick a stripe up his shaft, and his chest begins to rise and fall unevenly. Your gaze meets his and you lick over the leaking tip of his cock, gripping half of his shaft in your fist and giving a few slow, tantalizing strokes. Your tongue continues to work around the exposed area, swirling around and teasing his length where a rather fat vein protrudes. He chews on his lower lip between his teeth, and you finally descend on his length, taking every inch you can down your throat while maintaining eye contact.
“Uh… ohhh my…” he utters, as you begin bobbing your head on his shaft slowly. Your hand pumps what can’t fit in your mouth, and one of his hands instinctively reach for the back of your head, softly pushing down with the rhythm of your motions around his cock.
“Fuck… oh fuck baby…” he softly pants, head rolling back as his hand pushes down on your head faster, harder. Tears begin pricking your eyes as his large member hits the back of your throat, and you try your best to hollow your cheeks and suck in as much as you can.
He continues to whimper and groan before you, and through your blurred vision, you can’t help but feel a twinge of pride. Sure, he may find you boring and uninteresting and anything else when you’re sitting in your office in his father’s palace. But now? He’s literally whimpering before you.
He’s pushed to an almost impossible depth and you choke a bit, his hips beginning to thrust up slightly to fuck himself into your sloppy mouth. Muffled groans emit from you as he thrusts in a few times, until you feel his dick slightly twitch in your mouth.
“Ohh fuck-“ he pulls his dick out of you in an instant, his hand moving to caress your jaw and tilt your head up to look at him. His wet length slaps against his stomach as trail of saliva drips down your chin, collecting near the valley of your breasts, and his eyes track it all the way. His thumb traces over your swollen bottom lip as he inhales sharply.
“Fuck sweetheart, I don’t want to cum just yet,” he says, removing his hand to slowly stroke himself once more. You take the moment to slide your skirt and thong down your thighs, discarding them to the ground. Eris watches intently as you continue to strip, left in only your tight little bra and him in his unbuttoned button-down. Kicking off your boots, you begin to seductively crawl atop Eris once more, and his fingers graze over your hips and round your ass once more before finding purchase on your hipbones. He grips tight and flips you, eliciting a soft squeak from you in the process. Now fully atop you, you can’t help the delight in letting him do as he wishes and be in control over you.
“Let me do this how I want?” he asks, eyes gazing at you in question. You lean up off the bed, biting his lower lip softly before releasing it and staring innocently back into his eyes.
“Use me however you want.”
Your words snap a chord of restraint in Eris, as he tosses your legs over his shoulders then, running his cock up and down your folds to collect your dripping wetness.
“Gods, so wet for me already…” he drawls, aligning his length with your needy entrance. Then, without warning, he grips your waist hard and slams into you, eliciting a sharp cry from you in response. He grunts at the tight squeeze, relishing in the way you clench around him.
“FUCK!” You shout, and he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in once more, a low growl reverberating in his throat.
“GODS, Eris-“ you gasp. He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, quickening his thrusts — only pulling out halfway but still slamming into you all the same. Your small moans of pleasure seem to egg him on, pants and grunts occasionally emitting from him all the same. His eyes stay trained on you; your boobs bouncing beneath the confines of your bra, your mouth agape as you scream in pleasure for him, down to the slick spreading across his dick as it slides so easily in and out of you. You’re a vision; one he’d only dream of. One so similar to the dreams he has over and over, night after night.
“Fuck… oh, fuck this pussy feels so fucking good baby,” he grunts out, and you continue to allow your moans of pleasure free fall from your lips. Your nails rake over his muscles back, surely leaving scratch marks as he drives into you. One of his hands detaches from your hip, threading his fingers through yours and holding it to the mattress above your head. You tangle your other hand in his incredibly soft locks, illuminated by the rising moon outside. The heat in your stomach continues to build, the coil winding tighter with each snap of his hips into yours.
“Eris I’m… I’m so close-“ you gasp, and he slows only for a moment, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before continuing his thrusts, now slamming into you at an impossibly rapid pace.
“FUCK, ERIS, I’m-“
“Gods YES baby, please Y/N — let me feel you cum baby,” he groans, and with that, the red hot coil in your stomach snaps. You release with a loud moan, pussy clenching around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Within seconds his warmth is filling you from the inside, his soft whimpers filling the room as you both ride out your highs.
After a few quiet moments, he stalls his movements and pulls out of you, and you instantly feel… empty. He takes the spot on the bed beside you, laying on his side and tucking an arm under his head. He brushes his fingers along the curve of your face as he studies you, and after a few moments in silence, he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I, uh, I called you that.” he says, and you slide your eyes to his in confusion. He looks magnificent, even in the dim lighting, and you can’t help but feel a little sad that your night with him is drawing to a close.
“Whatever do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.
“Uh… during.. I accidentally called you something I shouldn’t have.” He says. You continue to just look at him confusedly, and he continues.
“I said Y/N, and I uh, I didn’t mean to.” He explains, retracting his hand from you.
You blanch; when did he call you that? How did you overlook it? How didn’t you catch the sound of him saying your name?
You’re silent for a moment, contemplating the whole situation when he speaks again.
“It’s just,” he lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N is actually this girl, um, she’s someone I know. Well, I know her really well, actually. Known her quite a long time.” He says, and you can’t help the butterflies in your chest. He thinks he’s talking to a stranger, but you’re only hearing the love of your life talk about you.
“Mhm…” you urge. He turns to look at you, and you try to innocently mask the desperation in your eyes as they meet his whiskey colored ones. He props his head up on one of his hands.
“Well, I just got carried away I guess. I’m sorry, I was just… I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I mean, I’m always thinking of her but… lately… I don’t know. It’s nothing you did! I mean you were great and all, I just… I can’t get her out of my head, I suppose.” You can’t help the guilt you feel as he looks away, sadness clouding his eyes as hope fills your heart. You never would’ve guessed he felt a fraction of this, based on how he usually interacts with you.
“So… why come here if you care so much for this girl?” You ask. He huffs a laugh, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling.
“Honestly, I didn’t think she returned my feelings. And, now I know she doesn’t because she told me she belongs to someone else,” he says, and you mentally kick yourself. What the fuck were you thinking telling him that? “You just look a lot like her, and I don’t know, I just got so caught up-“
“Have you told this girl how you feel?” You cut in, pretending to be helpful. He shakes his head, staring at a spot on the ceiling above.
“No… she told me said she has a boyfriend, so. I don’t really think it would matter much anyways.” Your shake your head, and your hand reaches out to lightly take his hand in yours. His turns his head, gaze meeting yours again, and you give him a reassuring smile as warmth only blooms brighter in your chest.
“Eris, I think anyone is crazy not to fall head over heels in love with you,” you say, and he grins. “In my opinion… you need to tell this girl how you feel as soon as you see her next. I’m sure she’d break up with that silly boyfriend of hers if she knew how you felt.”
“You really think that’d do it, huh?” He asks, hopefulness in his tone. You give him a wide, honest smile.
“I really, really do.”
ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
#Spotify#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#lucien acotar#acotar smut#acofas#acosf#a court of frost and starlight#lucien x reader#lucien vanserra#acotar#eris vandaddy#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris acotar#eris x you#acotar fandom#azriel acotar#acomaf#acotar series#tamlin acotar#rhys acotar#acowar#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#cassian smut
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VROOM (harry lewis x reader)
summary : in which y/n and harry get invited to go to the silverstone formula one grand prix (2023)
face claim : no one exact
notes : im an absolute noob at writing fics so please excuse the quality lmao. im petrified of posting on here but ive been thinking about starting a blog for over a year. im open to feedback, opinions and any sort of questions/advice is welcome! i happen to waffle a lot so just skip those parts if uninterested. this is my first post so enjoy 😝 also pls request because i have the creativity of a koala so id appreciate some ideas :D
pairings : harry lewis x reader , lando norris x platonic!reader
"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?! Are you actually serious?" You asked your boyfriend in genuine shock, followed by a laugh from the man dressed in head to toe in Ferrari merch. The red and yellow colors clashed hilariously with the sleek, orange McLaren paddock pass hanging around his neck.
"What? I thought I'd support the winning team." He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. You and Harry got invited by the Mclaren F1 team to watch the Silverstone Grand Prix from the paddock. As a Formula 1 fan youself, you were excited to see the cars upclose. To watch the mechanics to the pitstops, engineers do their things (idk what they do lmao) and to watch Max Verstappen overlap the whole grid like seven times. Even since you were a little kid you were amazed by those cars driving freakishly quickly. Now, several years later you get to experience it right infront of your eyes.
"Look, there's Lando!" Harry pointed out, spotting your friend talking to a group of mechanics. You approached Lando, who broke into a wide grin as he saw you. "Hey! There are my favorite YouTubers!"
You beamed. "Lando! It's so good to see you. How's it going?"
"It's been wild but amazing," Lando replied, glancing at Harry. "And I see you've managed to get Harry in the right gear this time."
Harry laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I had a little help with that."
Lando gave you two a playful nudge. "So, who are you rooting for today? Besides me, of course."
You laughed. "Well, McLaren, obviously. But I'm also excited to see how the Brits perform. It's going to be an interesting race."
"That's the spirit," Lando said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, I better get back to my team, but I'll see you guys later? Enjoy the race!"
You and Harry found a spot in the back of Landos garage, it had a view on the screens but also the pit-stop. The whole race went by fast. The moment the lights went out Lando tried his hardest with a deserved P2 at his home race.
Liked by mclaren, f1 & 1,002,485 others.
yourusename mom, i got invited to the silverstone grand prix.. still lowkey in disbelief like wtf.. me?? anyways, tysm mclaren 🩷 enjoy my lovely film camera dump raaaah.
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user harry looking fine as always😍
user y/n and lando finest friends
wroetoshaw whos the first fella hes fit
- yourusername he has a girlfriend..
user i can imagine y/n just walking around taking pictures of everything and everyone 😭😭😭
user i almost melted when they came on the screen
- user me too 😭 forgot i was watching f1 for a second
wroetoshaw i still think i shouldve worn my ferrari outfit #hater
- yourusername youd be sticking out like a sore thumb youre lucky i stopped you #loser #youalmostworepajamapants
user y/n looked so good there 😍
user i LIVE for y/n and landos friendship
faithlouisak i cant believe you chose him over me..
- yourusername im sorry bae.. next time im taking u
faithlouisak finest woman out there
calfreezy wtf fake friends.. theburntchip are you seeing what im seeing ???
- theburntchip bunch of fakies😔
holy what a yap fest lmfao please someone REQUEST something 😭 cause this is too plain.. !
#formula 1#mclaren#lando norris#harry lewis#w2s#w2s x reader#harry lewis x reader#wroetoshaw x reader#sidemen#harry wroetoshaw#wroetovic#f1#social media#smau#social media au#yapping#certified yapper#professional yapper#yapyapyap#yapfest#waffling#silverstone 2023#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 smau#max verstappen#red bull racing#vikkstar123#behzinga
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Writer!Yuu: This week's guide to avoiding tropes is on "How to keep a yandere at bay." Yes, those pesky yanderes are always a threat to poor unsuspecting, and naive main characters. Despite what you may think they are actually very easy to control as long as you are not an idiot.
Artist!Yuu: Why did you specifically ask me to be here?
Writer!Yuu: Because I know both you and Jade and I haven't actually figured out if you are the yandere or not.
Artist!Yuu: (frantic) W-why w-would you think that?!
Writer!Yuu: I know you have a shrine in your closet....ANYWAYS back on topic. The first mistake any Mc makes is being incredibly dense. So dense you'd think they were mentally unwell. Even the most secretive yandere has giveaways. Ever notice they never talk about themselves, have hobbies, talk about their families, have friends they spend time with, or have normal conversations? You might be dealing with a yandere.
Otaku!Yuu: Or a friendless shy person with a bad family life?
Writer!Yuu: Oh, please. Even Idia has hobbies, a friend, and a good family life. My next point, don't agitate a yandere. This is how most MCs end up dead. If you know they have feelings for you do not outwardly reject them. I believe in consent and being straightforward but unbalanced people can't be argued with. You can test how in deep they are by being indirect like saying "I'm sorry I don't think I'm good enough for out." or "I do not know if I can fall in love." You need to make sure your reluctance is not based on personal distaste or due to interference from outside forces. This minimizes damage to yourself and others. DO NOT BRING UP OTHER PEOPLE BEING OBSTACLES TO A YANDERE. A yandere's main trait is their willingness to kill other people for the one they are obsessed with.
Noble!Yuu: What if I want them to kill someone?
Writer!Yuu: I like the way you think. Turning a deranged killer into a tool rather than an obstacle. This brings me to my last point. Yanderes are very weak-willed. At the end of the day as their love interest, you hold all the cards. Your love is everything to them. Holding it over them is an important tool. You must have a strong backbone and be assertive. Snapping at them when they get out of line is a must. Play mind games with them. Don't let them think they have lost your love but keep them thinking of ways to get more of it back. They must never believe they have no chance. This keeps them from doing anything extreme.
Artist!Yuu: Wh-what if I don't want a yandere at all?
Wrtier!Yuu: I never said this was a class on preventing yanderes or getting rid of them. Neither of those things are possible. I mean you can avoid interacting with crying children or stopping bullies from ganging up on the weak kid. At least then they wouldn't become obsessed with you since you showed them kindness but that doesn't mean it'll work.
Noble!Yuu: Can I turn someone into a yandere who is willing to do everything I say and worship me?
Artist!Yuu: ...I'm scared
Writer!Yuu: Alright, let's wrap up for the day.
#writer!yuu#artist!yuu#otaku!yuu#noble!yuu#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#idia shroud#jade leech x reader#jade x reader#jade leech#twst jade
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Baldur’s Gate’s 3 Characters x Reader/Tav Misunderstanding
[This is basically the situation of, “As my partner-“ “Wait, we’re partners?!” Might add more characters later. Proof read but quickly. Sorry if there are mistakes]
Astarion- The two of you were planning out a way to get into a tomb that had some sort of artifact that Astarion insisted was important. “Important,” was, in fact, the only thing that he was using to describe it. This was something that was causing the most problems as you didn’t want to go through the danger of it all for something that might have been nothing more than entertainment for him. When you tried to ask him to give you more details, he snidely scolded, “Listen, as your partner-“
“I’m your partner?!” You interrupt before he could say more.
Immediately, he covered his mouth and his cheeks with his hand, embarrassment flooding in after what he had just said as he turned away. While he could usually recover from almost anything, this struck the line of being too intimate for him to handle. In fact, you were both so flustered and embarrassed from the whole thing that you had to push the planning of everything for the excursion at least a week out. It’s hard to plan adventures when you can’t even look the other person in the eye.
Gale- He thought that you were overworking yourself; and, if Gale Dekarios of all people thought someone was overworking, then it was pretty bad. Then again, you were important to him, so he was also inclined to mother-hen over everything you did. When he thought the time was right, he pulled you aside to gently scold, “I know this is very important. But, as your partner, I must insist-“
“We’re partners?!” You exclaim.
He felt awful as he sees this as him trying to force you into a relationship that you might not have wanted. And, given his history with Mystra, it makes him feel like he has taken on her role, and it makes him nauseous. You will need to take some time to get him to understand it was simply a misunderstanding and that you do want to have a relationship with him.
Raphael- He insisted on taking you to find, “better,” clothing. When you got over the initial insult of the indication that your current choice in clothes was bad, you questioned why he was so adamant on doing so.
“Because, I am a public figure. I cannot have my partner-“ He started to explain before you interrupted,
“I’m your partner?!”
This seemed to entertained him to no end. “Why of course, Little Mouse. Hurry along now.” He hummed as he gave you a tap on the nose before ushering your stunned self out the door.
Haarlep- The two of you finally had an evening to yourselves. They were sitting on the end of your bed in a soft nightshirt, reading a book. It wasn’t even that they were expressly interested in the book, but between all of the scheming with Raphael and succubus work, they couldn’t remember the last time that they had the chance to do something so simple as reading. They gave a contented sigh as they lied back, their horns bumping against your legs where you were sitting farther up on the bed. Without much thought, they sighed, “I am so glad that you are mine.”
“Wait! Are we… partners? Actual partners?” You question in surprise.
They put down their book and turned themselves to lie on their stomach so that they could look at you with gleaming eyes, your reaction seemingly tickling them.
“Well, of course! I’m never this relaxed with anyone but you.” They sat up a bit and motioned to what they had on. “I mean- just look at me! I even put clothes on for you! That’s not something that happens everyday, my sweet.”
Gortash- To say things were tense would be an understatement. Enver Gortash and you had tried to kill each other about a month ago, and you were both nearly successful. It had taken you these past three weeks to heal, and the whole time the both of you were sure the other was going to try to sweep in at any moment and finish the job. Or, you were, and it didn’t take too much imagination to see his situation as the same. You were both in a similar state when your respective parties had broken up your fight.
Now you found out that you would have to work with him publicly for a time. It wasn’t something that you were looking forward to, but it was necessary to get answers for certain things and create opportunities for your team. You were in the hall that this party was being held at; it was nothing fancy, no dancing, no meal- just a simple gathering for some of the upper class to speak with each other and perhaps have a few drinks. You were beyond surprised when Gortash connected eyes with you and instead of an angry or begrudging response, he greeted you with one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen on the man.
“There they are now! The person of the hour!” He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. There were some compliments and coos of how darling you both looked together, and how you must have been a great match. Soon after the group walked away to give you two a few moments of privacy.
“You said that we were a couple?” You whisper-yelled at him.
“Of course. Because we are.” He whispered back as he leaned closer to purr into your ear, “We did almost kill each other after all.” Gortash gave you a peck on the cheek before moving you both to mingle with the other little groups of people around the room.
#bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#bg3 gale x reader#bg3 gale x tav#gale dekarios#gale dekarios x reader#gale dekarios x tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion x reader#bg3 astarion x tav#astarion ancunin#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion ancunin x tav#bg3 raphael#bg3 raphael x reader#bg3 raphael x tav#bg3 haarlep#bg3 haarlep x reader#bg3 haarlep x tav#bg3 gortash#bg3 enver gortash#bg3 gortash x reader#bg3 enver gortash x reader#bg3 gortash x tav#bg3 enver gortash x tav#enver gortash#enver gortash x reader#enver gortash x tav
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Things from Wandee Goodday ep 3 I can't stop thinking about:
I love so much that we got some good friends with benefits tension around personal boundaries when Dee asked who Yei was and then backed off (but Yak told him anyway). And between the jokes about rimming, Dee demanding Yak pay more attention to his dick last episode, and starting this episode in the 69 position, I am very, very here for this show saying over and over that sex is not just one act.
[ID: Gif of the beginning of episode 3, whichi is a pan-to-shot of Dee and Yak laying in 69 position on the floor under blankets]
i loved the different responses to hearing someone you love is in a "Friends with Benefits" situation; Kao warned Dee not to catch feelings or read too much into the situation and Cher/Yei teased Yak for lying to himself about what the situation is. Both are super valid and speak to who Dee and Yak are, who Kao and Cher/Yei are, and all of their experiences with love. And it speaks to the closeness of these relationships too, that Cher noticed Yak's necklace gone immediately and Kao similarly clocked its addition on Dee instantly.
Super here for Kao being the ultimate support bestie at work, equal parts haranguing and backing Dee up. Their relationship is perfection.
I really liked Yak peace-ing out of their agreement when Dee dropped a huge request with no context, that was so valid and in the spirit of FWB (he didn't actually owe him a bigger conversation).
I've already reblogged a couple of other people (@negrowhat and @lurkingshan) talking about this so I won't belabour it, but I am judging Dee for not only ignoring Yak's boundaries by going to his workplace and forcing him to train him and then flirting with him during training sessions after Yak both made clear he's worried about being out at work and had ended their agreement. I hope we get more of an explanation for Yak's reticence about dating a man while aiming for the championship as well as his change of mind.
The conversations with Cher and Oyei have me so curious about their history! Tell me everything, show. I put these questions in tags on a gifset (but to put them on main: Where is Oyei and Yak's father (who is also a former champ but apparently uninvolved with this family business, if he's still alive)? What happened to Yak's mother that he doesn't know if he takes after her? Why can they go to Cher's family for financial help but not Yei/Yak's (to the point where they had to take out what sounds like a predatory loan during COVID)? What is Cher afraid of re: being seen being affectionate to Oyei, and where does that come from? Is this history related to why Yak is so worried about his relationship to Dee getting in the way of his championship? All of this is seeded so organically and I'm so, so curious. It also has me even more in my feelings about Cher and Yei calling Yak their son.
[ID: Gif of Yei saying to Cher: I own this place. What's there to be afraid of? From the set linked in the paragraph above]
[I have a clown theory that Cher and Oyei's relationship is why his dad is out of the picture and his gym is in financial trouble (because it prevented Yei from getting sponsorship despite being a champion), and why Yak is worried about being in a relationship with a man even though he knows his brother won't care...we'll see how much of this the show pulls together!]
The flash of trauma from Dee at the crosswalk was interesting too; where is that going? What happened in Dee's past and how is it going to affect the story in future?
[More clown speculation: Is it related to why Dee is so good with patients and passionate about ortho? Has he seen someone in his life become disabled due to physical injury?]
Speaking of, I really loved seeing Dee be good at his job and great with patients and their families. In addition to it being just nice to see and good for our understanding of his character, it sets him up to have a fighting chance in the contest too, since patients apparently get a vote.
I love love love the camaraderie and giggling between Dee and Yak around making Ter jealous and shoving their fake relationship in those gossiping nurses' faces. The way they are actually friends who like one another and enjoy spending time together is just really wonderful to watch.
My biggest question is: Will Dee get a chance in this narrative to show up for Yak the way Yak has been showing up for Dee? And how can that current imbalance be reconciled with this all leading towards Dee trying to get a placement to go abroad--and his self-stated toxic trait of always needing to win? [shoutout to @chicademartinica for laying that out succinctly in her post]
In the meantime, I'm having a blast.
#wandee goodday#bl meta#typed so that i can stop thinking it#this show is laying down a lot of groundwork and doing a lot of things i really like#with a few things that have me nervous#looking forward to the ride this show takes us on every week as we learn more!
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mod, i really wanna know. where did you get the inspiration for the story of this blog????? like yeah obviously tadc and the depths of your own mind but is there any other possible inspitarion?? like an interesting book or game or whatever that influenced your story writing vibes for eternity. or maybe im assuming everyone also writes like me, an amalgamation of past hyperfixations.
interesting question !
errr for this blog specifically , it's always been other ask blogs ! mostly cause i've always wanted to run one myself as someone who used to be very into undertale and fnaf ask blogs lol ... but the awful hospital webcomic has influenced a lot of what the anons are and 00's existence - the entirety of phase 2 taking place in a hospital was a coincidence though
and i can't lie , a lot of this blog's story was influenced by the asks itself ! which is why you shouldn't be shy about throwing in stuff - i like hearing about everyone's ideas and it's fun seeing what i can write into the blog . this thing's a community project really
other than that ? a lot of it just comes down to my fascination with ragatha's character and how i wanted to show my unhinged , overelaborate interpretation of her character when the pilot was the only episode . i just immediately got so crazy about this character that i needed a space to not stfu about her . i've always been so fond of extremely kind and compassionate characters that are doomed to fail
also the only interesting book that influenced my storytelling for eternity was house of leaves ... ! i really like how insane that book is and it really tickled my psychology nerd brain .
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