#look I know it's fiction and everyone can write whatever they want

[buckera]

could people posting 'kinky' fics not kinkshame the characters and the readers please? I'm tired

[carolinanadeau]

I literally cannot even fathom trying to date in this society. I am not exaggerating when I say that absolutely everything is stacked against me. I mean... thankfully I'm really still not interested but I wonder if part of the reason I am so uninterested is that the kind of relationship I'd want to have just straight-up does not exist anymore

[pitchsidestories]

golden girl II Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1732

a/n: as always this is just fiction, your feedback is always welcome. We saw that other people recently wrote fics with a similar topic and just wanted to clarify that we had the idea while writing one night in ibiza, so all similarities are purely coincidental.❤️

You watched from behind the camera as Alexia carried a football and set herself up to take a free kick. The ball spun through the air and landed perfectly in the top right corner of the goal.

You beamed.

This would make a nice video for the Spanish national teams social media sites.

As Alexia proudly turned towards the camera, her eyes met yours for a brief moment. She smiled, suddenly all flustered.

You held back a laugh to not ruin the video. Only once the recording stopped, you said: “Well done, babe!“

Alexias smile grew wider and you could have sworn the she even blushed.

“Ew!“, Jenni commented from somewhere behind you.

You turned to see her grimace in mock disgust.

Alexia barely glanced at her: “Shut it, Jenni.“

“No.“, the dark-haired player replied quickly and determinedly, similar to a stubborn child.

“Ignore her.“, you laughed as Alexia walked towards you and pulled you in by the waist for a kiss. Her gaze was still directed towards Jenni.

“Stop making out.“, she said and wrinkled her nose, repulsed by the showcase of affection.

Alexia only smirked at her: “I’m sorry but this point goes to me.“

“Whatever.“, Jenni rolled her eyes.

You were well acquainted with their bickering. They were both so ambitious, even when it came to you they always tried to one-up each other. This could go on forever if you didn’t put an end to it.

“Sorry, girl. But I’m not a trophy to be won.“, you said calmly and walked away without looking at them again.

Still, you could feel their eyes lingering as you walked towards the other players.

“Oh, little Miss Independent is back.“, Jenni teased, slight annoyance vibrating in her voice.

Alexia raised her eyebrows: “Also that was a lie, she clearly loves it.“

“Of course she does.“

“Just look at her.“, the Barcelona captain said, nodding in the direction where you were talking with Laia and Ona.

Another smile played on Jennis lips: “I love it when she’s acting all innocent.“

“Walking around, giving hugs to everyone. Oh, that Ona hug was extra long.“, Alexia commented your actions.

“She knows this doesn’t work, right?“

Behind all of the jokes and teasing however, was the slight sting of jealousy.

You didn’t notice the two player approaching you, you were too focused on your conversation with Ona.

“Oh my god, really, Oni?“, you laughed.

The defender went quiet: “Yes, uhm…“

“We definitely need to go on a walk with our dogs after the Olympics.“, you continued happily.

“We do.“

“Sweet.“, Alexia said cooly.

“Huh?“ You turned towards her, one eyebrow raised in expectation of a good excuse for interrupting your talk.

Jenni just smirked: “Quit flirting with Ona, you already have our attention.“

“I wasn’t flirting with her, we’re just good friends.”, you corrected her annoyed.

 “Quit rolling your eyes.”, the raven-haired woman demanded grinning.

“You know exactly what you did.”, Alexia shook her head amused.

“No.”, you answered innocently.

“See? She’s playing blameless again.”, Jenni sighed.

With a devilish grin, the blonde midfielder hugged you from behind, whispering into your ear. “You’ll confess everything tonight.” Her words send a shiver down your spine.

“Tonight?”, you repeated quietly.

“Yes.”, she affirmed.

“But we’ve our first Olympic game tomorrow!”, you protested.

“Don’t worry about it.”, the older forward assured you, while driving her hand through her dark open hair nonchalantly. The urge to touch her like she did in that moment was almost overwhelming, but you hold yourself back.

“And the beds are really small.”, you thought out loud.

“We can make a big one out of the three.”, Alexia suggested rationally.

“Easy.”, Jenni nodded enthusiastically.

“I guess we could do that.”, you admitted.

“Leave that to us, y/n.”, the oldest winked at you.

“I’ll let you do it.” A staff member called your name, reminding you that you had to do an interview for national television. To your girlfriends you explained. “Shit, I got to go, media duties.”

“Have fun.”, Alexia responded before turning her head to face the dark-haired forward.

“Great, that gives us enough time for the project bed.”, Jenni clapped excitedly into her hands. The enthusiasm reminded her of a child when it was about to open it’s present.

“Let’s go.”, the blonde told the woman who played in Mexico now.

The small cardboard beds were quickly put next to each other to form a bigger one, ready to hold the three of you.

“I think we’re ready only y/n is missing.”, Jenni announced delighted. The level of anticipation has been rising to the next level, the warmth and the near Mediterranean Sea added to it and the sun was about to set painting the sky in the prettiest colours.

“I’ll go see where she’s.”, Alexia decided, the taller woman following her immediately, in the hallway their hands were almost touching.  

Meanwhile, you were too focused on answering the questions of the journalist to realize that your girlfriends turned up behind your back.

“Oh, I can’t wait for the tournament to start, it’s so special as it’s the first time for our team to play at the Olympics.”, you raved, beaming with pride.

“Why’s she smiling like that? Y/n’s genuinely excited, huh?”, Jenni asked the blonde surprised.

“She’s.”, Alexia agreed.

“I could watch her do interviews forever.”, she declared swooning over you. Her green eyes admiring your sight, the gestures you made while talking about something you clearly loved and were passionate about.

“With whom I’d like to do a jersey swap? Definitely Marta, she’s such a big inspiration and everything she did for the women’s game is incredible. The only problem here is that Ona and Alexia want hers too, so we’ll see who gets it in the end.”, you laughed light-heartedly.

“Of course she would say that.”, Alexia scoffed.

Jenni watched on as you answered more questions: “Those young girls are such media pros.“

“I think she’s finally done.“, Alexia said, seemingly relieved that you were unable to embarrass her anymore.

You politely said goodbye to the interviewer and got up up.

“Hey! Y/n!“, Jenni called.

You heaved a sigh and gave her a death stare: “Jennifer, you don’t need to shout when we’re in the same room!“

The dark-haired player shrugged: “Wasn’t sure you saw us.“

“I’d always see you two, even in a crowded room.“, you replied, shaking your head.

“Don’t flatter us.“, Alexia said with a half-smile.

Confusion flashed across your face: “No, I mean you two, Misa and Irene are usually the tallest in every room.“

Alexias face dropped: “Seriously? I thought you were trying to be cute!“

Before you could say anything about how ridiculous that assumption was, Jenni clapped her hands: “Anyways, it’s time to take this to bed.“

You cocked your head teasingly: “Oh, is it?“

“Yes, it is.“, Alexia agreed with her teammate.

“Let’s go then.“, you shrugged.

“About time.“

“We did our waiting!“, Jenni complained and scooped you up into her arms.

You shrieked as she carried you off towards her bedroom. “Jenni, put me down!“

Alexia followed behind, closing her eyes for a second like she was fighting a headache: “Children.“

“Ale, help!“, you begged but the Barcelona captain barely gave you any attention.

“No.“

Jenni threw you down on the bed they prepared earlier: “Finally!“

“Finally?“, you echoed. The bed wobbled as she laid down beside you.

“Yes.“

“Are we sure this is stable enough to hold us three?“, you worried as Alexia climbed on your other side.

You suddenly remembered why the beds at the Olympic village were made out of cardboard. It was supposedly to prevent athletes from having sex and this might have worked for some. But apparently whoever came up with this had never met Jenni and Alexia.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.“, Jenni said while brushing a strand of hair out of your face. As she leaned over, the cardboard made the typical noise of being crushed.

You yelled in surprise: “Jenni!“

“Careful!“, Alexia laughed, trying to grab Jennis arm. Her movement made the whole bed collapse in a pile of mattresses and flat cardboard.

“Oh my god.“, you breathed out once the initial shock wore off.

“We broke the bed.“, Alexia commented unhelpfully.

“Just great, you two geniuses.“ You tried to sound mad but the ridiculousness of the situation made you grin.

Jenni instead was extremely amused by this: “I’m sure this will bring us luck.“

“Since when do broken beads do that?“, Alexia frowned at her.

“You can trust me.“, she kept smiling.

“I sure hope you’re right.”, you remarked.

“Me too.”, the Blonde stared at the forward.

“Just believe me girl.”, Jenni answered with a smug smile on her lips.

“And where are we supposed to sleep now.”, Alexia questioned while nodding to the destroyed beds.

“We still have our mattresses. Can’t be more uncomfortable than the beds.”, the older woman proposed.

“Good point.”, you said while the three of you lay down on those, you in the middle.

“I guess that’s my life as a professional athlete now.”, the midfielder hid her face behind her hands.

“You two are such pillow princesses.”, Jenni commented.

“Coming from the real pillow princess here.”, you countered, elbowing her softly.

“Lies.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“Truth.”, you disagreed smiling.

“Shut up.”, Jenni requested.

“Make me.”, you responded, sticking your tongue out for a second.

“Don’t worry, amor. I will.”, she hummed, pinning your arms downs, so you were unable to move, while her eyes wandered from your face to your breasts, under her gaze your cheeks turned hot.

“Go on.”, you muttered, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

With that intention Jenni got down on you to give you a feverish kiss. Taking her time to devour this one.

“Ah silence.”, Alexia sighed happily beneath you.

“Way better, right?”, Jenni looked up.

“Definitely.”, the midfielder noted, kissing both of you before her eyes were closing, sleep was calling her name.

“Is she asleep already?”, you questioned.

“Yes, good night my golden girls.”, the oldest woman chirmed.

“Golden girls?!”, you repeated.

“Quiet.” The demand coming from Alexia.

You apologized with a kiss to your cheek.

It was time to sleep, tomorrow was a big day, you were about to play your country’s first Olympic women’s football game, you three and your team were about to write history. Or should you rather say herstory.

[justatasteofyourpoison]

Helping Alastor out of a rut…

(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem reader fan fiction)

Part 1

My first time writing a bit of Hazbin Hotel smut. Well, any smut for that matter! Probably a lot of grammatical mistakes but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Pairing: Alastor x Fem Reader

Plot: Not a great deal of plot, but you’re the latest resident at the HH who may be able to help Alastor out of his rut…

Warnings: 18+, smut, sexual content, rough sex (not for me, but maybe you) oral, rut, slight bit of bondage, p in v, not the best grammar).

Word count: 2k

————————————————————————

It was a quiet evening at the Hazbin hotel. You were sat in the lobby flicking through an old recipe book you had found on the sprawling bookshelves, hoping to find something new to make everyone for dinner tomorrow. You glanced up from your book periodically just to see what everyone was up to. Nifty was wondering around, dusting every nook and cranny while muttering to herself. She relished in tormenting any roaches that she stumbled across during her duties. Angel Dust was sat at the bar speaking quietly with Husk. “Get a room you two” you thought to yourself as you could see Angel leaning closer and closer towards Husk as the night went on. Charlie and Vaggie you presumed would be upstairs coming up with the next “fantastic” team building exercise for tomorrow. And as for Sir Pentious, who knows what batshit crazy stuff he was up to…

After scanning the room your eyes fell back down to the pages of your book, but you felt distracted by how heavy the air suddenly felt. You had felt it building for the last few days, like the air was filled with static and something was brewing… But you just thought that was just Hell for you, something ominous happened everyday! With a small shake of your head you continued with your recipe searching.

“There is a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya in that book y’know” a statically voice chimed, “not as good as mine of course”. You looked up from your book and saw two familiar red eyes staring back at you, as if they were looking into your very soul.“Hello Alastor” you said cheerfully, trying to disguise just how much the Radio Demon had made you jump. Despite his fearsome appearance and sadistic nature you were very fond of him. He was always very good company and you had spent many a night shooting the breeze and laughing with him at the bar. “How are you this evening?” you said warmly.

“How kind of you to ask my dear” Alastor said, smiling devilishly as always.

“I’ve been better” he said sounding almost pained. Which was very unlike him at all.

“Oh no what’s wrong?” You said almost taken aback, the Radio Demon was always on cloud 9 (as much as you can be in hell). Alastor slowly stood up and leaned down towards you, his mouth just an inch from your ear. “Something you can maybe help me with Mon Cheri”. His hot breath in your ear sent a shiver down your spine. He stood up sharply, his eyes still burning into you. “Meet me in my room in 15 minutes, don’t worry about knocking. I’ll be expecting you.” And with a flash of black smoke he was gone. You sat there for a minute, face flushed, heart racing. Whatever could the Radio Demon want with you?

You pondered outside Alastair’s door a moment exactly 14 minutes after he left you in the downstairs lobby. You didn’t want to keep the Radio Demon waiting, but knots were building in your stomach. What did he want with you? You’d heard of the all the deals he had made in the past with poor wayward souls of hell. Is that what he wanted from you? Your Soul?

You took a deep breath and grasped the brass doorknob, twisting it carefully to not make a noise before gingerly stepping into the room. “Alastor?” You chimed nervously as you closed the door silently behind you. You turned and stepped into the room taking everything in. The room was warmly lit, with old books and various flora and fauna filling the ceiling high shelves. A grand 4 poster bed adorned with red satin sheets sat against the middle of the wall to the left of you. You walked forward and stopped in line with the end of the bed when you finally clocked Alastor stood looking over the balcony at the almost-full moon. His red hair almost looking ablaze in the moonlight. His jacket and bow tie were resting on top of the stone banister of the balcony. You had never seen him looking so informal.

“Nice of you to join me my dear” Alastor said cheerfully, his back still to you. You could feel the air was now saturated with static, the intensity of it made your pulse quicken.

“You wanted to see me?” you said, no longer being able to hide the nervousness in your voice.

“Yes my dear, and because you came with such hast I will not keep you in the dark much longer. “You see…” he continued to gaze up at the moon. “You see where I was born it is now Autumn. And although we don’t see the seasons change in hell, for some reason I can feel this change every single year. And Autumn…” He trailed off almost contemplating his next words.“Autumn is the season when some animals have certain…” Before finishing his sentence he turned to face you. “Desires.” He said smirking.

Was the Radio Demon asking what you thought? Did he want your body? Before you could contemplate what he was saying any longer he had appeared in front of you, his eyes aglow. “I know you can feel the static my dear” he mused. “And I definitely know you have secretly desired this”. Alastor wasn’t wrong, since arriving in hell you hadn’t ever even had so much a thought about anyone; except Alastor. There was just something about him. You titled your face up to meet the Demon’s gaze, the tension now palpable. “Ok, let me help you Alastor” you said sweetly, your heart racing from the excitement.

Barely as you finished your sentence Alastors lips came crashing into yours and your lips instinctively moved with his. You opened your mouth to allow his tongue to snake in, the passion of the kiss sending heat rushing down your body. His clawed hands caressed your face before gently sliding down your neck and gripping your shirt. With one swift pull in either direction your shirt was ripped open. “Haha!” Alastor laughed nervously, “A bit lost in the moment, I will pay to have a new one tailored of course”. He said charmingly before carefully undoing the button of your trousers and sliding them down gently, exposing your simple black underwear. The Radio Demon looked you up and down “just perfect” he purred. “May I?” He said, his eyes gesturing towards your bra and underwear. His formality took you back slightly, but you guessed no matter how sadistic Alastor could be he was a gentleman when it came to the ladies. “Of course” you said seductively, you couldn’t wait to have him.

He removed your bra and underwear as gently as possible, his claws fumbling with the clasp of your bra a moment. Making you both chuckle like teenagers. When your breasts were exposed his eyes seemed to glow brighter as he bent down to have a taste. You moaned lightly as you could feel his tongue twirling slowly around each nipple. His hand reaching down to place two fingers between your now soaking lips. A low moan came out of him as he felt how ready you were. He removed his fingers and clicked them and in an instant his shirt and trousers were gone, before you he stood in just a pair of black boxers. His chest was adorned with thick black and red hair which trailed down to the large yearning bulge in his tight boxers.

He scooped you up and carried you to the bed as if you weighed nothing. He gently placed you down and moved down the bed, his head between your thighs. “Let’s see how you taste” he whispered seductively before licking slowly up the length of your slit. His Antlers has grown large and in the heat of the moment you grabbed hold of them. “Ah ah ah” the demon teased, “you may look but not touch”. With that green glowing chains appeared around your wrists and pinned you to the headboard. The buck then continue to taste you, circling your clit with his masterful tongue as you lay there squirming. It was all starting to get too much. “Alastor.” You painted. “Please fuck me”.

Alastor removed his head from between you thighs and sat up on his knees. He looked down and smiled cheekily “I guess it is time we both got what we wanted” and with a click of his fingers the green shackles disappeared, along with his boxers. Revealing his engorged cock which was glistening wet in anticipation. He leant down to kiss you while getting himself into position, each kiss still as meltingly passionate as the first. He grabbed just below the tip of his manhood and thrust it inside you. You squealed involuntarily from the sudden pain, annoyed at yourself as you didn’t want to come across as weak in front of the demon. “I’m sorry my Doe” Alastor cooed. He slowed his rhythm and gently eased himself into you. “I didn’t expect you to be so tight, what a delight you are” he purred.

After a few more gentle, but still painful thrusts the stinging began to melt away into pleasure and you both began moaning in delight at every thrust. You gazed up at the handsome demon and still couldn’t believe he wanted you! “Oh Y/N” he growled as his thrusts became deeper and faster. You could feel him hitting your sweet spot with perfect rhythm. “Please don’t stop Alastor!” You moaned. He continued his pace with perfect precision and you could feel your orgasm brewing, a few more thrusts and that was it - pure ecstasy. Your legs tightened around his back, lightly brushing his tail and your cunt convulsed around his cock with otherworldly pleasure. As the pleasure sadly dulled Alastor could take no more, he swiftly pulled out of you before grabbing your hand and pulling you up “on all fours please my dear” he begged. You faced away from him and placed your pussy in the air, leaning your head down and arching your back. He entered you swiftly, grabbing your hips, claws digging in animalistic-ally. As the thrusts quickened the demon began to moan in pleasure before finally he reached his peak. You could feel him come inside you “Oh Y/N!” He moaned. The static in his voice wavering. He collapsed onto you back and you both just stayed there for a moment trying to get your breath back.

A few moments passed and Alastor retreated from you, laying himself down on the satin pillows. His antlers shrinking back to their normal size as his head hit the pillow. “Ah that was wonderful, I’m absolutely shattered” he chuckled before yawning and reaching his arm out to pull you onto his chest. His nose nestled into your hair breathing in the sweaty scent of you. You snuggled into him, wanting the moment to last forever. “Sorry my dear, but I must be getting to sleep, one needs their rest to make sure their voice is fit for radio!” He smiled. “So I will have to bid you goodnight. Please feel free to grab one of my white shirts and I will get a new one tailored for you in the morning.” He said sleepily. Reluctantly you released yourself from the Demon’s soft warm chest and began dressing yourself, picking the closest looking shirt to what you were wearing from the Demon’s wardrobe. You didn’t really want to be caught wearing Alastors clothes by the other guests…

Once you looked as respectful as you could after the night’s events you slowly walked towards the door. As you were about to grab the doorknob you heard Alastor whisper, “That was a lot of fun my Deer.” You turned to see him gazing admiring at you. “Rest assured it will be happening again. Goodnight my little Doe.”

“Goodnight Alastor” you said, your heart rate quickening once again from the words that just left his mouth.

You quietly opened the door and exited into the dark lobby. You leaned against the door for a moment and let out a heavy sigh.

“The Radio Demon wants me?” you mused to yourself as a wicked grin spread across your lips.

All instalments:

[topazadine]

Things that immediately turn me off a fiction book

I'm pretty picky with what I read, because the time I spend reading is time that I could spend writing. I generally know if I will like a book within the first chapter, and I feel no shame in giving up if I'm not vibing with it.

And no, I don't believe in the "oooh read further it warms up" because does it? Does it really? Do I want to waste time finding out?

Frankly, at this point in life, I read more nonfiction than fiction because there's just so. many. bad. books. that are getting published. Worse than fanfictions.

Anyway, here are the things that make me give up. Maybe hearing this will help you as you write your own masterpiece.

Too Many Proper Nouns

Three characters maximum in the first chapter or two. Do not throw dozens of people at me. I will get confused and give up. Let me get to know the main character, by themself or with a few of their closest companions, before you make me remember everyone else. And go deep with those characters! I want someone to stick with!

You can reference other characters, to create a sense of a deeper world, but do not go all-in on them. Make it clear that they are just there to provide a bit of context, and we don't have to remember them yet. We should only be meeting three characters maximum.

Throwing Us Immediately Into a Dramatic Action Point

This is controversial I know, but I hate when something immediately starts with a battle. I don't care if any of these people live or die. I don't know them. I haven't grown attached to any of them.

Even just a page or two to get to know them first will help. You can have them gearing up for a battle, thinking about what's going to happen, maybe talking to their friends, maybe checking their armor, whatever feels natural for them. But do not just start with stabbing people! I don't care about them yet!

Too Many Details

Many this is just me, but I simply do not care about every piece of armor your character is wearing. I don't need to hear a play-by-play of every single color of every single thing because I don't care. Pick out a few specific things for me to focus on and that's it. Stop overloading me with colors and patterns and armor styles.

Yes, yes, you've done your research on historically accurate gear. That's great. It would be good for a movie. But if I have to look up different armor pieces every five seconds, I am glossing over it and moving on. I don't care. I'm here for the story. If I wanted an infodump about medieval armor, I would simply pick up a nonfiction book (and maybe I will).

White Space Syndrome

Tell me what the overall scene looks like instead of all these hyperspecific details of certain objects, like carts or emblems or whatever. I want to know where I am!!

Don't just say "a forest." Tell me what kind of forest. Tell me if it's a young forest or an old snarly forest or a swampy forest or a cold alpine forest.

Don't just say "a castle." Tell me if it's a bustling castle or a gloomy castle or a rundown castle.

Don't just say "on the sea." Cold sea? Tropical sea? Far far away from land or is land in sight? These are the things I want!

Too Much Backstory

For the love of god do not explain the entire history of this culture in the first chapter. The first chapter is for getting to know the characters we're going to be following. You can introduce those things slowly and carefully as the story unfolds.

I get that fiction writers are delighted by all the worldbuilding (or research, in historical fiction) they have done. But the reader does not care right away. They need to get invested before all those little specifics matter at all. My eyes glaze over and I give up because I don't want to have to remember all of that all at once. It's like you just threw a college textbook at my face.

Plus, if you're doing third-person limited, you have to remember that the character is not going to be thinking all of that! They won't say all of that either! Because they know all of that!

Even a general on the brink of a major battle is not going to go "yes, this all dates back to when we took Iuanfutila back in 181, when the brave Iuanfutilans protested the rule of our Yawwbaawnwhryr leaders ...." They are focused on the present moment, and they may discuss the backstory later. Tell us what we need to know now because that is what the character would be thinking too.

"Oh, but Topazadine, how will the readers understand the context if I don't tell them??"

There's a battle. Two groups are at war. Or something was stolen. Or two people are fighting. Whatever. We understand those things. We can get the basic gist of how things are going to play out by just showing us these things happening. Then, as we have gotten a feel for the characters, you can tell us more about the context.

If you walk into a store that's being held up by an armed robber, do you give a shit about his backstory, or do you only care once that person has been arrested and you have to testify? I think we know the answer. You're not going "ohhh why is he doing this??" at first. You're going "HOLY SHIT THERE'S A GUN WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NOW???" and then you'll care about the other stuff later.

Too Much Play-by-Play

I also do not need a play by play of a fight scene. I need to know the general movements, and then the overall atmosphere. I want to feel what the character feels rather than feel like I'm watching a football game.

Your reader will fill in the gaps if you give them enough information, but when you overload them with every single action, they're now trying to keep track of what went where instead of how this moment is supposed to feel. And now the action and drama has gone out of the writing because it's become a manual of fighting techniques.

Pointless Dumb Conversations

"Oh, could you turn around for me? I want privacy."

"Sure, of course, I'm a respectable man." Manfred knew that a lady-in-waiting would be unsettled by the presence of a strange man, so he wanted to be respectful.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Oh my god no one cares!!! No one!! We don't need this exchange. Cut it. This is stupid. Unless something is actually happening or something is meaningful about them saying this, shut up.

How to Not Write a Horrible First Chapter That Makes People Ragequit

Can you tell I'm mad today? I started and stopped three different books because they were all so bad.

Three characters max in the first chapter, with deep discussion of each. (One or two is better.) General appearance, demeanor, profession, whatever.

Restrain the urge to infodump! Dribble it out over the chapter!

Give the setting more attention than random little details that ultimately do not matter. I don't need to know the pattern of the curtains on the horsecart that's about to be burnt. Don't care.

Do not give a play by play of every single action that a character takes because it's boring and no one cares.

In media res is great but do NOT start with a big climactic intense battle or fight or whatever because we don't know these characters and don't know who to root for (or why we should care).

Your character is not going to give us a history lesson in why this conflict is happening. Do not do it yourself either. Give us just enough to get intrigued and no more. Think how your characters would think and what they would prioritize in discussions.

If a conversation is just pleasantries and has no purpose, drop it, we don't care.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi

It's been brought to my attention that there are people out there who are sadly plagiarising my work again.

1. This is not okay.

To clarify, while I'm very happy for people to take inspiration from my stories (in the same way you might any book you read from a bookshop), I don't want my work used or reposted without credit.

I'm not going to go into lengths on why it is wrong to plagiarise someone else's writing. I don't think my tumblr post is magically going to change anyone's mind, especially as if you've followed me long enough you know we've done this rodeo before.

So.

2. How to tell when writing is plagiarised

It can be very difficult to tell when something is plagiarised, especially if we have never come across the original work before and have no reason to recognise it.

I don't think it's realistic for everyone to vet everything they come across online for plagiarism, but it's also something I don't see talked about a lot for fiction.

These questions to ask yourself are not foolproof and not applicable to everything. But I think they can be a start.

If the writer has posted more than one story, is there a similarity across them? While writing style can change across an author's different pieces, there is still usually going to be a similar feel across stories if they came from the same person. Writers have voices and quirks and little things that are specific to them. If every piece feels wildly different then it might be coming from different places. This is probably going to come down to gut reaction and instinct in the first instance. But that's okay. Because that gut reaction is just there to make you think twice and maybe investigate more thoroughly.

How much are they posting? Can people churn an extraordinary amount of words out? Yes, sometimes. But...as a general ballpark, no. Writing takes time and effort. If someone is coming out with enormous amounts of writing every day or week or month or whatever, then this can be a hint to look a little closer.

Do you ever see hints of their writing process? Can the writer talk about their characters or what they want out of the story or anything like that? Do they ever post a story organically in response to a request or whatever? Not all writers know in-depth everything about their story or characters or plot, but the main point here is that the finished product is the tip of the iceberg. If someone is a writer than there is more going on beneath the surface of the posted stories.

I hope this helps!

[thehauntedetheral]

Hello! Since i saw ur bio that you take requests and i want to ask for a yandere boyfriend that wants to marry you immediately since you guys were at the right age, (hes 21 and the y/n is 20)

And I'm going to add something, like the boyfriend gets too jealous whenever there's other boys are looking at y/n or other people

(i don't know if you take baby fever? kind of thing, though just the boyfriend wanting a baby with you once you accept his marriage)

And just a headcannon of boyfriend getting so, sooo jealous whenever you get crushes on fictional men, you can add what you think of this! So and Is it okay if I give him a name? If yes, then Elliott, Thank You!

Keep up the good work! I really love it! And i also hope you'll do a part two of the Yandere Dom Kidnapper!

If you need ideas please do say!

(sorry for any grammar, english is not my first language! 😭)

Thank you for your idea. I hope you like this fic. And yes please keep sending me ideas. I love writing for you all.

Yandere Possesive (Dark)

Requests are open !

• You and Elliott dated throughout the high school. He was older than you but only by one year.

• You were happy with him. He is caring, charming, has a good humour with which he always tries to make you laugh. He is love of your life and you are his.

• You and Elliott were in same college as he doesn't want to be away from you no matter what. Recently you celebrated your 20th birthday with him. Everything went well only the plot twist was that Elliott proposed to you on your birthday night. You love him and you know he is the only one you want to marry but not now. You were just 20 and Elliott 21.

• But after much convincing or more like manipluating Elliott convinced you to say yes. Life didn't changed much only the difference now was that you were engaged. You thought to yourself that you were just being anxious about marrying too young but was not a issue atleast to you and Elliott as he was a really good patner.

• Elliott would bring flowers for you weekly, cook delicious meals for you, read a book to you while you snuggle in his arms, go out on dates with him, watch movies, bake together, talk with each other till late night and then falling asleep in each others arms.

• But as no one is perfect and everyone has their own flaws. Elliott had them too. He was extremely jealous and possesive about you that it many times led you two to an argument which always ended with Elliott fucking you against the wall or wherever you are making you beg for him while he would ask you

"Who do you belong to, darling?"

• You were talking to a man who was not him for some college project? This man becomes extremely jealous. That after your conversation he threatens the poor boy to stay away from you.

• You loved your stuffed teddy and would often cuddle with it. Well this man is even jealous of your teddy bear. What can I say whatever or whoever catches your attention he gets jealous of it and when you ask him one day "have you seen my bear?" "No. Darling but don't worry I am here cuddle me whenever you want until we find that stuffed bear". When in reality he has thrown that bear to a very distant place in jealousy. This man wants your attention 24/7 on him. Madly obsessed with you.

• You read many romance books and whenever you compliments some fictional character he gets jealous and says "Let's recreate those spicy smut scenes of your novel so I can show you how much better I am than him."

• A guy tried to flirt with you when you were hanging out with him at bar? Elliott beats that person until he is an bloody mess.

• When some random boy looks at you a bit long kisses you infront of them. To show how you belong to him just as he belongs to you.

• This man worships you like a goddess but is a freaking dominant in sheets fucking you until you are a dumb drooling mess.

• Elliott often thinks about you with a glowing round belly pregnant with his child. Having babies of you two. Showing it to the whole fucking world that you are only his and carrying his child. Hence leading to his baby fever.

• Would often show you cute videos of babies and saying "Our's will be more adorable with your pretty eyes, darling".

• Shops all the cute baby stuff he finds under the saying of "For future, darling". While you just ignored his baby fever thinking it's just a phase.

• You both got married on the fixed date in a beautiful church.

• Elliott cries like a baby while seeing you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white wedding dress looking like an angel which you definitely are according to him.

• After marriage you thought Elliott's jealousy would become less as you are husband and wife now but it doesn't lessens even a bit. Hence leading to many arguments again.

• This arguments scares him thinking you might leave him so he baby traps you with him knowing too well you would never leave him while having a child. He knows he is fucked up. But no matter what he is never losing you. And after all you both love each other and the unborn baby so anything else doesn't matter to him. Now only you and the baby matters to him.

• Elliott knows that he is crazy for you. But after all love makes us do crazy things, right?

Want part 2? Let me know through comments.

Requests are open !

For more yandere Reading:

[arcanefox207]

The Wolf You Feed (Part 3)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.2k

Part 3 / ? (Ongoing Series) (AO3) (Previous Chapters)

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50ish). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity, Edging) 

A/N: Chapter 3 starts off VERY Angst heavy! The majority after that is full on smut with some plot development. I'd love to hear feedback on what you think of this chapter. It took me longer to write because I really wanted to nail the angst part so I challenged myself to really make that part hit some feels.

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡

[Joel POV]

Joel sits waiting with a scowl as Tess passes him and joins him across the booth. After a day or two they finally made plans to get together briefly at lunch to talk. 

His scowl softens when he looks at her. His untouched cup of coffee sits between them like a mediator. She leaves her jacket on with no intention of being there long. 

He comes out and says it. Calmly and softly. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” His gaze faces downward and avoids her face.

“Do what?” Tess askes, acting puzzled by their conversation.

Joel gestures his finger pointing between the two of them. His face is solemn as his eyes reluctantly lock with hers. 

“You gotta be kidding me.” Tess scoffs. She searches his eyes for more information but his stare is cold and serious. 

“Whats got you so noble all of a sudden?” She teases, still not really believing him. He can see her working it out in her head.

Joel wants to tell her all about you, but he knows he can’t. 

“Do what you want. I’m not your wife.” 

Joel wants to believe that, but he knows her too well. He hasn’t had success with anyone else in a long time because he hasn’t really tried. Nothing serious, anyways. She knows he is loyal to her at the end of the day. Always has been and always will be. The permission to do whatever with whomever is just an illusion. It never had been challenged before and was just empty words. 

Tess has always had a way to keep Joel on her leash. They were too comfortable with how things were. Their history was long and tumultuous but it was familiar. She had been there for him at his darkest times and he felt an obligation to her. One he had been content with fulfilling. The allure of familiarity was strong, but it was waning and Tess was too preoccupied to stop it.   

“Tess, this thing we have isn’t working.” He pauses. “It hasn’t been working.” His words have more bite than he intended as they leave his mouth. 

“This thing?” Her eyes narrow as she accentuates the word. “Joel, tell me what is really going on.”

The guilt was starting to get to him. It wasn’t fair to Tess and it wasn’t fair to you. It shouldn’t even be an issue, really. Joel’s conflict just further confirmed how entwined he was with Tess and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. 

It was no secret that Tess and Joel were a thing. They were both well respected and liked in town but also had a reputation for being intense if you crossed them. Everyone knew that Joel would break their jaw if they put their hands on Tess for any reason or gave her any trouble. He was her protector and her lover. Whichever one she needed. It was common knowledge that they were in a situationship. There was no romance, but they had an unspoken claim on each other. 

“Whatever this is you are going through is fucking weird.” She waves her hand in front of her, mimicking his ambiguity. Her voice is a little more shaky than before, but still holding back any real emotion. 

He looks down at his coffee. He can feel her gaze boring into him, searching for the source of this conversation. The shame is permeating from him like a stink he can’t wash off and she can smell it.

“So you’ve been fucking around with someone else?” She asks bluntly. Piecing it all together. 

“I didn’t exactly go looking for it.” He says, coldly. Annoyed by her accusation that was by all counts correct. 

“Jesus, Joel.” Her tone is filled with disgust more than anything.

“Don’t, Tess.” His words bite. “You’re never around. Don’t act like we are anything more than that.” 

“Only when you want to get your dick wet.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Fuck you.”

Joel sits, silent. Biting his tongue and trying to keep his cool. He doesn’t want to admit it, but she is right. The one constant in his life the past few years has been Tess. They never were successful in making the leap to something legitimate. They were both too headstrong and too stubborn. 

Oil and water. 

Despite that, they had amazing sexual chemistry, when they made time for each other. Joel had stupidly suggested it might be practical if they moved in together, but she shot that down. Joel wanted some semblance of a relationship and her resistance to that started driving a wedge between them. Things only got more toxic and strained between them after that. Their interactions had been slowly reduced to just the occasional fuck after drinking at the bar and a whole lot of arguing. 

Then you came along. The catalyst that made him question why he was just staying complacent with Tess and how sustainable that really was going to be. You did it all without realizing it.

 “I don’t have time to play games, Joel.” 

“Tess…” He stares at her. “I ain’t playing.” The words come out firmly through gritted teeth and his balled up fist slams on the table making the contents on the surface rattle.  

As much as Tess could be intimidating, it was nothing compared to a worked up Joel Miller. She scoots out from the booth and stands up in a huff, clearly over this conversation. 

“When you’re done having your fun, don’t come looking for me.” 

Her prickly demeanor tears away at his resolve. He doesn’t want to lose Tess, but he doesn’t know how to quit her either. She knows it, too. Dangling her threat in front of him to keep him on the hook. Daring him to eat his words.

Joel feels stricken with panic. His temper cools and is replaced with regret. All he had done was piss her off and work himself up. He was finally saying the words out loud that they both had been avoiding for too long, but he was too afraid to commit and make things final. 

He reaches his arm out like a reflex and grabs her arm as she passes. Their eyes lock in a standoff. Tess has a fire in her eyes but behind that he can see the hurt lurking. He relaxes his grip now that he has her attention and looks away, ashamed. His hand drags down her arm slowly. Tender and apologetic. 

“Will I see you Friday night?” 

Coward. He hates himself as soon as those words leave his mouth. Why couldn’t he just let her walk away?  

“Yeah. Sure.” She conceals the slightest smirk from his sight as she pulls her arm free and keeps walking toward the door. 

Later that night after Joel returns home he has nothing left to distract him. He had worked as late as he could. He had a liquid dinner of whiskey. 

After he showered he got into some sweatpants and a simple cotton tshirt and scrolled mindlessly through the channels. He settled on a mediocre action movie that was halfway over and just let it fill the background noise. 

His mind is on overdrive rehashing the conversation with Tess over and over. Regretting not just letting her go. It was easier to imagine doing that when it wasn’t the heat of the moment. He was so close but he knew she wouldn’t make it easy for him. He knew better than to let himself get wound up too and put her on the defensive. He never wanted to hurt Tess even if he was fed up with her.   

He had no intention of continuing his charades with her and didn’t want to lead her on, but he couldn’t let it end like that. They had too much history. She had been too important to Joel since they met in Boston. He didn’t want to lose what they had, but it was becoming more and more clear that it had been gone for a long time. He still had to try. 

He hated feeling so ambivalent. 

“Damn it, Tess.” He says out loud to himself as he leans forward over his knees with his hands clasped between them. He slams his whiskey glass down on the table in front of him.     

His body is too tense and agitated. He stands up and paces past the front window. His eyes catch the light of your home and he feels a different kind of heat take over. His frustration was looking for any way to escape. He could already feel himself getting hard thinking about fucking you again. A combination of desire for you and aggravation that his situationship with Tess was going to stifle this new flame.  

He braces against the wall and palms himself over his pants with deep, labored strokes. He reaches his hand inside and continues. His cock is begging for your touch. 

Your touch. 

It all seemed so clear to him at this moment. You were exactly what he needed. What he wanted. In the short time he had come to know you one thing was certain. Being around you made him feel good. 

He withdraws his hand with a pained restraint and instead picks up his phone.       

Joel needs to see you. He sends you a text. 

[Reader POV]

Joel: Come over?

No preamble. No context. You read the message and then read it again. 

You: Sure

There is nothing you’d like more. You want to tell him that, but you keep it short and sweet.

It was already getting late but you didn’t want to question it too much. It’s not like you were doing anything important anyways. You had already made a deal with yourself to let things cool off a little so that you didn’t come off desperate with how badly he made you want him. 

This unexpected late night invitation was very much welcomed. Whatever reason Joel had to invite you over, you were ready to find out.   

You throw on a pair of jeans, grab your jacket and head over on foot. The cool air is soothing. It helps calm you down as you can feel your heart racing the closer you get. His home was becoming more and more familiar to you. It was hard not to pass it everyday and want to be back inside and wonder what he was up to. Joel was becoming more and more familiar. You had never felt so enamored with a guy before. Much less someone like Joel and especially not someone old enough to be your dad. You knew so little about him, too. Something you plan to remedy when you are not being dickmatized. 

He answers the door as you approach it and you step in, scuffing your boots to kick off the snow. You notice how dimly lit the place is with only the light from his TV and the wood stove burning low. A single light in the kitchen above the sink where you first got to experience his touch. 

You turn to face him as he closes the door. He looks on edge.

He takes a step towards you and grabs your chin, directing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark and his energy is agitated. Hungry. Lustful. Something is off but you can’t quite place it. You infer that his silence means he didn’t invite you over to chat so you don’t pry. Shoot first and ask questions later was becoming the status quo. 

He brushes his thumb across your lip and parts your mouth open slightly. It makes you melt inside as you confirm this invitation was for all the reasons you had hoped. You give him a sultry smirk and tease the tip of his thumb with your tongue.

No words are spoken as he closes the gap and shoves his tongue in your mouth. He presses into you and turns you to swap positions so he can pin you against the door. You can feel the heat of his cock against you as he devours you with his mouth and grinds into you. You can smell the lingering whiskey on his breath while you make out.

His hands pull your jacket off your shoulders and it falls to the ground. You kick your boots off and let them join the mess of clothing starting to gather at your feet. He pulls your shirt over your head and struggles to undo your bra while his body rocks into you; crowding you in. He is careful not to lose contact with you for long. His mouth roams to your neck and collarbone as you reach your hands down to unbutton your jeans. The cruel barrier between you does little to conceal his hardening cock, poking into you as you struggle to unzip and free yourself from your jeans. 

Your bare back against the door is cold and sends goosebumps through your skin. His hand brushes over your hardening nipple and it sends him in a frenzy that stops you in your tracks as he becomes preoccupied with your hardening buds. 

He hooks his hands under your thighs to hoist you up higher for easier access. You straddle him to help hold yourself up. He maneuvers you so effortlessly. His biceps bulge tightly through the arms of his tshirt as he uses his strength to pin you firmly between him and the door while he ravages your tits. 

Your hands grip into his shoulders and he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls and teases as you become harder and more sensitive. 

He is rough and needy. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks hard and flicks you with his tongue before switching over to the other side and does it all over again. He is getting increasingly forceful. 

It’s almost too rough and borders hurting but his unhinged desire to take what he wants in the moment makes you feel euphoric. You want to be at his mercy.

A bite catches you off guard and you and you gasp as he nips at you again with more restraint. He pulls back to control himself, panting and realizing he might be getting too intense. 

He lowers you gently back to your feet and holds your hips firmly. He leans into your ear and his words come out deep and commanding. 

“Bedroom.”

He leads you hastily through the living room to a room you had not been in before. It smells masculine and clean with a woodsy veil lingering from the wood stove. He has dark blue bedding and decor against beautiful rustic, knotty pine walls. It feels comfortable and distinctly Joel. A rush of excitement surges through you. Being in his bedroom. Standing at the foot of his bed.  

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you and mouths your jawline and collar. It doesn’t take long before he is getting carried away again leaving playful bites on your tender skin. You relish it and welcome being branded by him. You’ve never been with someone so rough and dominant and you find yourself craving this side of Joel. Your body aches for his touch.       

One of his hands is forcefully grabbing your breast and the other he slides down your belly and dips inside your panties. You are embarrassingly aroused already and he feels how wet you are as he grazes over your underwear. He curls two of his fingers under the damp fabric and lets out a low growl as he presses them over your swollen clit and gets them wet at your entrance. His fingers are so thick. He gently works his two fingers in and out of you over and over again while his thumb teases your clit. While he is stretching you out he bites at the crook of your neck and earlobe. His cock poking into you and begging for friction as he grinds it into you.

You can feel him everywhere on your body. All your senses are flooded by his presence. His scent. His heat. His touch.  

He slides his hand up and hooks his fingers on your waistband and tugs them down. You help shimmy out of them and bend over to let them drop to the floor. With one more layer removed you press back into him as you rise back up and feel his hard cock against your ass. You seize the opportunity to tease him back by rubbing up against him. You can feel his cock swelling against you and you let out a needy moan to further tempt him while you slowly rise back up. You want him inside you so badly and you can feel how badly he wants it too.

“Easy,” he says sternly as his hands find a grip on your hips while you push back into him again. You hear a raspy moan catch in his throat. 

“Don’t.” He threatens while he grips you harder and keeps you still. That dangerous side shows itself and it makes you equally turned on as you are intimidated. You listen. 

He removes his other hand from your breast and slides it up around the front of your neck and gently around your throat. He tilts your head back and cups your jawline as he presses a needy kiss into you and turns you around to face him.   

Joel pushes you down gently onto your back. His bed is messy and unkempt and smells like him. He stands at the foot of the bed and pulls his shirt off. His shoulder frame is so wide and his tapered waist teases you with his happy trail spilling out from his pants that are straining to hold him in. He leaves them and seems to ignore his own arousal for a moment to turn his entire focus on you. He drinks in your naked body laid bare before him and bites his lip back with a crooked smile. He has already made a mess of you and he can see how needy you are for him. Keeping his cock hidden seems cruel but you aren’t even sure if you could handle much more of his body at this moment. 

He crawls onto the bed on all fours and situates himself in between your legs. The mattress sinks slightly under his weight as he settles between your legs with his arms holding him up on each side of you. His scruff scrapes the soft skin of your inner thigh as he lowers his head down and it sends a shiver through you. He presses his mouth to the crease at the top of your leg and places a gentle kiss as he moves in closer to your center. 

His movements are slow and deliberate and he is teasing you with anticipation. His eyes lock onto yours. They are blown out and mad with desire. Dangerously hungry.  

“Need to taste you.” He groans and snakes his hands under and around your legs and drags you closer to him, never breaking eye contact. His hands splay over your lower belly and he dives in. Your head tilts back as you stare up at the ceiling and breathe sharply. Your body is floating in pure ecstasy.  

His focus is now entirely on eating you out. He flattens his tongue and licks you up to your clit again and again. You are getting wetter and wetter. He goes at a painfully slow pace and savors your taste. The sensation is intoxicating. He works his tongue with such precision. 

Moans escape your lips and your body writhes under his expert tongue. Your back arches up as he dips further into you. His nose teases your clit while he stretches his tongue inside you. His damp beard scrapes against you as he moves his head, tantalizing your skin.  

Your hands scramble to grab his tousled hair between your legs and you latch onto him and look down to steal a glance while he works. He is so handsome and skilled it doesn’t feel real. You can’t shake the feeling that you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, but at this moment you don’t even care. 

His broadness let him take up so much space and spread you so wide open for him. His shoulders crest as he maneuvers himself deeper and you can see his beading sweat. He is so focused on making you feel good. Making you feel desired while he is genuinely enjoying every moment of it. 

You lay your head back again and your vision starts to fade out as the sensation becomes overpowering. His tongue is relentless, exploring your folds and discovering all the right spots that drive you wild. Your hands tangle in his silver streaked hair and you are certain it has to be hurting him with how hard you are pulling. He does not seem to be fazed in the slightest and only responds with more vigor the harder you pull.   

“Joel. I’m gonna..” 

He interrupts you by sharply pushing you down against the mattress so you can’t squirm anymore. 

“Not yet.” He commands, his eyes staying focused on your cunt while he speaks. “I’m not done with you.” 

He doubles down on his movements to further push your limits. His whole face is buried in you. Pleasuring your most tender parts with a passionate hunger. Savoring your sweetness. 

You writhe under him. His words invigorate you as you grasp onto anything that might help you hold on. His hair. The bed sheets. The comforter balled up around you. He doesn’t seem to mind that your legs are nearly strangling him. You doubt he can even feel it. He is so much bigger and stronger than you.  

He sends you over the edge when he takes your swollen clit between his lips and sucks hard while he swirls it with his tongue. 

You moan as your orgasm washes over you and he goes into a frenzy lapping at you, moaning as he takes all of you in. You have never come so hard before and he is drinking every bit of you. Reaping the benefits of his handiwork.   

You are both panting to catch your breath and enjoy a calm moment as you come down from your high. You look down at him still placed between your legs. He groans as he stiffly adjusts his arms to prop himself up. One of the few moments that reminds you he is damn near 50 years old, and you are surprised to find it so endearing.  

“Holy Fuck, Joel.” you say almost giddy and rest your arm across your forehead and breathe deep. No one has ever pleasured you like Joel Miller and you are pretty sure he knows it. 

His face is shiny and wet from your release and his beard is covered in your slick. He looks feral and depraved as he drags the back of his hand across his face to wipe off your mess but it only smears it more. He licks his bottom lip, and seems pleased to wear your mess like a badge of honor. He was being such a nasty man, but you liked him nasty.

He backs up off the bed and reluctantly stands up. His cock is begging to be touched and let free. He catches the needy way you look at.

“Not yet, baby.” He slides his hand under his waistband and you can see him stroke his length and groan slightly as he slides his pants down. He jerks on it a few more times and you can see it leaking at the tip. It's fat and ready to burst. You can feel your body pulsing, begging to have him inside you. 

“I want more of that pussy first.”

He slips out of his pants completely and then returns to his place on the bed, between your legs. He forces them open with his head. It’s playful but also devious. You didn’t realize how tightly you were holding your legs together until he charged in. 

“Joel!” You whine. 

He ignores you and places a rogue kiss on your abdomen and then resumes fucking you with his tongue. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds open so he can get in deep. You whimper as the pressure on you and inside you builds. You are wet again in no time and he relishes every molecule that coats his tongue.  

He leans into you and pushes your legs back into your chest and laps at you with this new leverage. You can hear him moaning in delight.

“Joel…” You say his name again, louder, trying to get his attention. You are overstimulated and he doesn’t stop. Not that you actually want him to stop, but you do want him to know you are coming undone.

The second wave of pleasure starts to build. You are swollen and begging for his touch. Begging for him to fill you. As good as his tongue feels, you need to feel more of him. Making you beg for his cock turns him on too. He relishes your needy pleas and edges you even more. 

He gets you good and wet and reluctantly pulls away from you and sits up. One hand presses your leg open while the other hand zeroes in on your opening. He dips a finger in and immediately adds another as he fucks you with his thick fingers, twisting them inside you. He wastes no time. Much rougher than earlier. He does it just long enough to get them dripping and feel you clench around him. You let out a whimper as he scissors his fingers and then cruelly pulls out of you, leaving you empty.  

He wasn’t being so nice anymore. His movements were more urgent and practical. He had neglected his swollen cock for long enough.  

His wet hand glides over his shaft while he stares at you.  

“You’re being so good.” he praises. His veiny cock glistening in your slick.

“Gonna fuck you now, Sweetheart.”

He kneels on the bed and leans forward to pull you up. Your legs dangle loosely as he pulls you to your knees and spreads your legs to straddle him in his lap. His weighty cock is between your bodies. He notches it at your entrance and grabs it firmly at the base and pumps it before he guides the head into you. 

Even though you are soaked and he just fingered you it is still a stretch your body isn’t quite ready for. His slicked up, swollen head splits you open and you feel a searing burn as your walls strain to fit him.  

He lets out a grunt as he pushes it in further and locks his hands on your hips. You gasp as he pulls you all the way down to his base and holds you there for a moment. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your head to his chest while your mouth gapes open and you moan. You were not expecting him to fill you with his full length so quickly. He was a lot to take.  

He leans back away from you just far enough to catch your eyes and check in on you. You feel his cock twitch inside you while he is admiring how fucked out you look. 

Your bodies come together again and he grabs you hard. He thrusts up into you and pulls you down on his cock hard as he fucks you. His arms tangle around you as his pace quickens. Your nails claw into his back as you try to desperately grab onto something.

He snarls and nips at your collar as he fucks you relentlessly. He starts to come undone. His undulating thrusts turn chaotic. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, ready to unload. 

You want him to fill you to the brim with his come but you don’t have the capacity to form coherent words. You try anyway holding yourself even tighter against him and moaning. Pleading with your touch. You hadn’t found the appropriate moment to tell him oh, by the way I have an IUD and doing it while being fucked senseless was incredibly difficult.

Your muscles are going weaker by the second but he picks up on your attempts. Joel was incredibly tuned into you. As if he needed another reason to be so attractive.  

“Where, baby?” He slows his pace but just slightly. He urges you to reply by placing one of his hands on the side of your face and holding you up to look at him. You can tell from his tone that he is on the brink. 

“In… inside.” You manage to get it out. You catch the way the corner of his mouth pulls up slightly while his eyes narrow over his nose. It was exactly what he was hoping to hear. He thumbs over your jawline and then brings his hand back down to your hips. 

Joel grunts loud as he thrusts into you while he pulls you down on him. Rough and violent in his movements. His cock kisses your deepest parts and you scream out his name and claw into him. His moan sends you over the edge and your muscles convulse as your release escapes you.

He can feel your walls choking his cock while you come. It sets his own climax in motion and he loses control, bucking into you frantically while he snarls. You can feel his hot ropes of come fill you as his cock pulses. He thrusts up into you with a labored exhale as he empties himself inside you. 

Having him fill you with his spend feels so cathartic. For both of you, you imagine, judging by his calmer demeanor. You share a peaceful moment together entangled and panting. Hot and sticky sweat beading between your bodies. The smell of sex and burning wood.  

He presses his forehead into yours and leads you down gently back onto the mattress. His come leaks out of you as he pulls out with a groan. He was already taking up any available space before he poured into you. You mourn its loss as it drips out of your cunt.  

He presses a kiss to your forehead and drops to his side, next to you. His arm drapes over your midsection and he turns you on your side. He pulls you close so your back is flush against the front of his body. His wet and softening cock nestles at the curve of your ass. 

You can feel his heartbeat with heavy thuds starting to slow. He traces his hand along your side and gently rubs your skin. It makes you shiver. Your sides are sore from being held so tightly but his touch now is soft and gentle. Soothing. 

Joel was intense in bed, but it never made you feel like you were in any sort of danger. He was certainly capable of harming you but you trusted him. He pushed your limits in all the right ways. On the outside he was rough and dominant, but you were starting to see that deep inside he knew how to be gentle too. He had another side of him that he was content to share with you in these moments. 

He made you feel safe. Like he would protect you from anything.

“Joel?” You call for his attention, almost sheepish.

“Mmm?” He mumbles, raspy. From the sounds of it he was nearly passed out.

You roll onto your other side so you are facing him now. His hand snakes over your ass and he rubs you.

“You fuck good for an old man.” 

He bites inside his cheek to hold back a smile and shakes his head. 

“Watch it.” He threatens, but in a joking tone. He pulls your head into his chest and scoffs. You liked teasing him about his age.

You smile to yourself and bury your face in his chest as he holds you tighter. 

You wake up to the sound of heavy boots clunking on the wood floor. You slowly blink your eyes open and then jolt up when you realize you are not at home. You look to your right and the spot on the bed is empty with blankets haphazardly tossed aside. You are in an unfamiliar bed, naked and your body is sore. 

Your brain slowly wakes up as you remember Joel inviting you over late last night. You didn’t mean to fall asleep in his bed. He had fucked you silly and it is not at all surprising that you slept like a baby. He wore out your body and the last thing you remember was being held by him and listening to his rhythmic breath as you dozed off together.  

Your eyes searched the room for your clothes but half of them were still out by the front door. 

You see his olive green and orange plaid flannel draped over his dresser. You snatch it and put it on. It floats on you but feels so soft and comforting. The arms are so much longer and it hangs over you frumpy. It smells worn but you like being in his stink. You button just a few to hold it on you. It barely covers your ass but it does a good enough job. 

You push the bedroom door open and wince as you see the sun is just peaking through the treeline. A stark contrast to the room you woke up in. The reflection on the ice covered lake is bright and blinding. After your eyes adjust you can really take in what a beautiful morning it is. 

“Morning.” Joel greets you. He is standing over in the kitchen holding a coffee carafe and pouring it into his thermos. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He looked so handsome. Fresh with his hair wet and slicked back. He cleaned up well and looked like an entirely different man from the night before. More put together anyways. More peaceful too. It reminded you of the first morning you met him. 

He was dressed for work and had on a few layers from head to toe. It made you feel foolish to still be so exposed. He did not seem to mind one bit.

He looks you up and down and he bites his lip while he tilts his head slightly and stares. 

“Mmm. Like you in my shirt.” He almost growls it at you.

You smile shyly and stand across from him at the island.

“I like it too. I might have to keep it.” You tease.  

You notice a coffee mug already prepared next to him.  His big hand claws it on the top and he slides it over towards you.

“Figured you’d want this.” 

“I sure do.” You pick up the mug with both hands and breathe in the sweet aroma. He had apparently paid attention enough to know that you like your coffee with cream and sugar. Another bonus point for attentiveness.     

“I got an early job today and I have to go. Stay as long as you need.” His offer was generous.

He twists the lid onto his thermos and grabs a bag with some tools and blueprints. He slings it over his shoulder and walks around the other side to stand next to you. 

He reaches his free hand out and gently pushes your messy hair behind your ear. He slowly drags his hand to your jaw and tenderly caresses you with his thumb. 

“See you later, sweetheart.” You melt inside. 

And then he was gone. 

You collect your things and quickly dress yourself properly. Your daily work alarm goes off on your phone while you are lacing up your boots. Just enough time to go home and shower and get ready for work. 

As you are about to head out a devious thought compels you to snatch the flannel. He won’t even miss it. He has plenty. 

As you close the door behind you you take a deep breath. The sun is warm on your face and the air is crisp and refreshing. Your senses are invigorated and your energy is bright and vibrant. The realization hits you as you start across the street. 

You are falling hard for Joel Miller. 

Part 4!

Thank you to my dear friends who beta'd for me @magpiepills and @legendary-pink-dot 🧡 ILY

Love to the rest of my sluts who support my creative shenanigans and give me life @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime

@youandmeand5bucks @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen

Inspo Tags for some of my favorite Joel fic writers that have inspired me in so many ways with their amazing, talented writings (Please give them all your love! Im sure you are already familiar with them) @toxicanonymity @swiftispunk @hier--soir @atticrissfinch @bageldaddy

Tag List - If you want to be added please leave a comment! You can also follow my Update blog at @ArcaneFoxFics but I realize the traditional tag list is still a preference so this is an option too 🧡

@untamedheart81 @elizabeth4th @thischarmingmandalorian @mellymbee @yxtkiwiyxt

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@immyowndefender @r4vens-cl4ws

[gojowifie]

Also one more thing, what is going on with fanfic nowadays?? Yall really don’t write fanfic anymore it’s just straight up porn, and look I’m not knocking people for writing that but does that not get a little boring to yall?? You know? Like what happened to plots, drama, angst and fluff?? What happened yall?? Like bruh I can’t even scroll down on tumblr without being bombarded with straight up smut and mind you it’s not even different it’s ALL THE SAME AND SO PREDICTABLE. People be giving these characters blaccents and shit like, hello??? Like look I really don’t care what other people write about but I just want the girlies who write actual stories to start back writing fanfics because it’s so hard to find a fanfic with 12 or more chapters these days.

You know I used to think smut was a tumblr thing but apparently it’s not, I heard people used to actually write fanfics on here but it somehow changed. I’m a Ao3 girlie so I had no clue that the girls on tumblr were actually writing fanfics. But honestly it’s just so disappointing and boring to see. I normally just scroll until I find something that I actually like but that’s very hard to do when everyone on this app is writing the same thing; smut. I would go on wattpad but who has the money or time for those ads and also wattpad is for children. I fear they’re the only ones over there writing. If I’m reading something it has to be written by someone at least 18 plus. Which is why I’m usually on Ao3.

For further explanation: to me a fan-fiction is a story with at least 30 chapters max, slow burn, angst, drama, a plot and of course an eventual smut. Not what the hell yall be on here writing, just straight up scenes out of porn. ONCE AGAIN IDC WHAT PEOPLE WRITE I JUST WISH PEOPLE WOULD WRITE ACTUAL FANFICS AGAIN. Also I’m not shamming anyone but I’m just stating an opinion. Write whatever your heart desires but damn where are the actual fanfics at???

Maybe I can try writing fanfics cause man….

[sundrop-writes]

you were nice to me and acknowledged my existence so i hope you know that means you’ve unknowingly asked for all my dumbass, hyper-specific 12AM bullshit thoughts.

you can turn this into a mini blurb or teen wolf pack headcanon - whatever works for you, but who do you think in the pack is would be into you wearing a necklace (or any form of jewelry really) with their name/initial on it? are they buying it for you or is it something you would have to initiate, do they want one too with your name/initial on it?

i know it’s not everyone’s thing but i think it can be really adorable 🥰

if this isn’t your vibe just let me know, no biggie 🩷

This is absolutely my vibe!!! I love this prompt so much omg. Also, I love it when people come to me with their random 12am bullshit - whether it's just to rant in my inbox about fictional characters or to suggest fic ideas. This is what Tumblr inboxes are for

My requests for Teen Wolf are open!! Just make sure to read my rules first!!

What would the pack think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?

A/N: I changed it from an initial to a representative symbol, partially because of a tiktok that Star sent me the other day of someone selling Teen Wolf necklaces in an Etsy shop that I can't stop thinking about and I want one so badly, and partially because I think Derek's tattoo would make a really amazing necklace.

Warnings: descriptions of canon level violence, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible (please let me know if I messed up anywhere on that), Isaac's low self eesteem due to his father's abuse, mentions of Jackson x Lydia, references to sex (but nothing descriptively smutty), I think that's it.

Includes: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes (I got tired while writing this so that's all the characters we have lmao)

Derek would love it. It would be his idea - he would be the one to give you the necklace.

He met you shortly before becoming an Alpha, and you were the defining member of his pack. You were the first person he had bitten in order to turn them - you had been bleeding out outside of the Hale house after Peter had stuck his claws through your stomach, sensing Derek's attachment to you (even if it was something that Derek himself hesitated to admit), and he had called Derek weak for taking a liking to you. So the moment after Derek had slashed Peter's throat open, making him the Alpha, he had used his new found power to bite you, ultimately saving your life.

You were someone he had once viewed as his weakness, but he had come to realize that you were his ultimate strength. You showed him how to interact with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd with kindness and understanding, you showed him how to harness his Alpha power with more than just the anger he harboured inside. You showed him love - something his isolated heart hadn't felt in years.

To him, the triskele tattoo on his back represented the three forms of a wolf could take - the powerful, leading Alpha, the following Beta, and isolated, weak Omega. It represents how a wolf can rise to power, but he can also fall to weakness if he's not careful.

When he gave you a necklace with that same symbol as its pendant, he explained to you why it was so important to him that you wear it.

"You have helped me rise to my full potential." He told you, pinning the clasp behind your neck. "Every time I look at this around your neck, I want to be reminded of that. I want to be reminded not to fall to anything less." He kissed the base of your neck, causing you to break into a large smile as his thick, warm arms wrapped around you from behind. "I need to be reminded to serve you a good, loyal Alpha every single day. Not to fall back into my former weaknesses."

"I thought I was your weakness?"

"No. You're my strength."

Isaac would be unsure about it. And it most definitely was not his idea.

It started with you and Lydia hanging out before a lacrosse game - the two of you were getting ready in her room, and while she finished up her makeup, she said 'oh!' as if suddenly remembering something, and then went to her jewellery box. You looked on in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace, and when you squinted closer, you saw that it was a silver pendant with the number 37 on it.

"What's that?" You asked.

"It's Jackson's jersey number." She told you. "It's good luck for a player's girlfriend to wear his jersey number, and I didn't want some big ugly jacket with the numbers written on the back."

It made you wonder if you should wear Isaac's jersey number to the game, even though the two of you had been playing around with dating, not exactly official. Isaac was hesitant on PDA and labels. Lydia encouraged you, though, and she ended up using a red lipstick to write his number 14 on your cheek, making you look like a crazed fan - but everybody at the game already knew who you were there for.

Before the next game, Lydia gifted you with a necklace similarly to her own, with the promise that she wouldn't have to freeze her ass off in the stands alone - and to her, it was like the two of you had matching best friend necklaces, representing the lugheads that you cheered for on the field together. At first, you only wore it to games. But then you found comfort in wearing it all the time.

Isaac, of course, took notice of this - his eyes easily magnetized to the number 14 glimmering on the silver chain around your neck.

He felt like he didn't deserve to have a mark on you. He was undeserving of claiming you, undeserving of being called your 'boyfriend'. He was worthless, and you wearing something that represented some kind of serious relationship between the two of you - why did you want him? Why?

After a long, tiring night of talking, some tears, and eventually some kissing - he finally understood. And from then on, he was more than proud to have his 14 constantly shining around your neck.

Scott would love it. But it would be your idea.

The two of you had to date in secret - your family had a loyalty, an alignment with the Argents, so you couldn't be seen with Scott in public, creating a deep frustration between the two of you when you couldn't hold hands in the hallways or go on 'real' dates like other couples could. Scott expressed a deep frustration at loving you, being your boyfriend, but not getting to be yours twenty-four seven like he wanted to, and that's what caused you to come up with the idea.

You got a silver heart locket necklace, and inside, put a picture of the two of you. Well - it was a piece of the picture of the two of you. You grabbed a photo of the two of you kissing, and cut out the space that had formed between your necks when your lips came together in a kiss - to anybody else (most important, if your family saw it) it would have looked like a photo of blank sky. But you and Scott were the only two people in the world who knew what the photo truly was.

And you gave him the rest of the photo with the missing heart shape cut out between the two of you so that he could be reminded of your next words every single time he looked at it.

"The space between us isn't what matters." You told him firmly, pointing to the space you had cut out of the photo. "No matter how big that space gets, we always know how much we love each other. We'll always have each other."

From then on, every single time he looked at the silver heart dangling around your neck, it was something he remembered with a smile. No matter how far the two of you had to be apart, no matter for how long - your love kept you together.

Stiles would absolutely love it. It would be his idea.

Stiles would be incredibly shy and shitting his pants nervous about asking you to wear his numbers, but the week before, you had asked him to be your boyfriend after a roaring success of a first date that he had no clue how he landed with you. His first game as a first linger was coming up, and he felt like things could only go up from here.

He had you, he was first line, so - he steadied his courage as he tightly gripped the black velvet box that had the shiny gold necklace in it, praying that this wouldn't be too much, too soon. Praying that he wasn't going to scare you off.

"Um, hey." He greeted you at your locker, a ball of nervous energy that had you giving him a questioning eyebrow.

"Good morning." You smiled at him, wondering why he was acting so strange. You leaned in and kissed him on the lips - a light, chaste kiss in greeting, and he felt himself nearly knocked over by the joy of it.

This was really real. He had you.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning toward the box in his hands.

"Oh, uh - a gift." He said. "For you."

"Stiles, you didn't have to. It's not my birthday or anything."

"I know." He said. "I want to - to do something special. To celebrate you being mine."

An intense wave of butterflies overtook you at this, and you look on in awe as he opened the box, presenting the necklace to you.

"It's - um - it's my jersey number. Ya know - 24. Just - it's a thing that people usually do, wearing their boyfriend's number... and I - am I being too weird? I'm sorry." He went off rambling the longer that you didn't speak, and you quickly raised a hand to his wrist, trying to calm him with a soothing touch there.

"I love it." You assured him with a smile. "Thank you. I can't wait to wear it."

"I could... help you put it on now?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and he excitedly grabbed it out of the box.

From then on, you never took it off. You were more than proud to be his, and proud to show it off by wearing the necklace.

Erica would fucking love it, but it wouldn't really be intentional on either of your behalves.

One thing Erica never expected about becoming a werewolf - how possessive it would make her. But being able to smell when someone had touched you, being able to hear how hard your heart pounded when you were scared or anxious - it made her want to rip apart anybody who even looked at you the wrong way. The two of you weren't even officially dating. Your friendship always crossed weird lines - you were the only person who was kind to her when she was an outcast, and after she transformed, you were the only person she knew for certain didn't just want her for her body.

The sex between the two of you was amazing, but you never talked about feelings.

One night in the haste of undressing, she dropped a necklace on your floor - a nameplate necklace that her parents had gotten for her birthday a few years ago. You didn't want to forget to bring it back to her, and you thought it was funny, a kind of joke - so you put it on. You thought nothing of having the name 'Erica' dangling around your neck in bold silver letters.

When Erica saw it - it drove all of her wolfish instincts insane. Seeing her claim on you, her name literally written across you - it took everything she had in her not to throw you across a table in the middle of the library and fuck your brains out, then and there.

And she saw the way other people reacted to it too. The way guys would go to flirt with you, but then their eyes would dart down to the necklace and then look to her, as if finally noticing her presence glaring at them, telling them to back off - and then they would scatter in fear. It was the first time in weeks that the two of you actually had peace.

So she implored you to keep it. She loved having a silent little claim on you. After all, wolves love claiming their territory, right?

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly

Hi Everyone, this is my first fan fiction. I love Joel Miller and Pedro and I just wanted to write something about him/them. I was inspired by the many many many fantastic fics I've read and all their writers. You all are amazing. I don't know what I'm doing so, if I do something wrong, please let me know and I'll adjust. Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: violence, cursing, gore, blood. (There Will Be Smut, eventually) Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. I will give her some physical descriptions because she is me for this one but I've taken to writing her and You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking, a little annoying. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: Joel saves your life and takes you back to Jackson.

Chapter 1: Him.

It all happens so fast. You step on that fallen fucking branch and it snaps. It feels so loud in the eerie quiet of the forest, like an explosion. Your heart almost burst in your chest, and the clicker you were hiding from, praying would pass you by, turns on the stumps left of its heels and comes towards you. Its limbs flailing, but at a speed that seems impossible. Next, you’re on the ground, pushing the things’ rotting neck and shoulders as hard as you can to keep its snapping jaws from your face, when suddenly, with the sound of a shot, the head splinters, and bloody debris falls onto the skin of your face as the clicker’s strength weakens and its weight falls against you.

Your brain can’t catch up with what is happening as the corpse is lifted off you and the sound of a man’s voice starts to come through as if you’re hearing it under water. “ANSWER ME!” You finally make out the words, “WERE YOU BIT?” You find your voice, shaky but still strong, matching the man’s intensity, “I DON’T KNOW.” You hear him sigh, almost as if he’s irritated rather than fearful. You still can’t see him clearly, the viscera of brain matter from the clicker being shot above you still blurring your vision, along with the loss of your black framed glasses that helped you see, even if the prescription wasn’t exactly right. Damnit, where are they now? You wipe your face as best you can and move your mass of black hair streaked with gray out of the way as the man, who you can now see is large, broad shouldered, only being able to make out his shape without your glasses. He grabs at your collar and moves your head from side to side to check your face and neck, and then pulls you up to a standing position. You’re weak on your legs after the, let’s face it, near fucking death experience you just had, and reach out to the man, grabbing his hand for balance, after you seem steady and not a second before, he pulls his hand back and squeezes his fist like you burned him. Okay, man, just trying not to fall over again.

“Roll up your sleeves and show me your hands and arms, both sides. NOW!” You do just that. His brow furrows at the site of the tattoos covering your arms, like he’s wondering how you got them all, and trying to figure out if it was before the world ended, or after. How old you would have been, and if you could have gotten them all before. You can see the gears turning, then it seems he finally deems you unbitten and therefore not an immediate threat, but certainly not safe. “What are you doing out here alone, where are your people?” He says while looking around him, checking his six or whatever the fuck, you wonder if he was in the military or something, he seems like a soldier but also like maybe the Jason Borne kind. You never got to see the sequel they announced before it all happened, sequels usually sucked anyway. God, you miss movies.

“What is wrong with you, kid, you got brain damage? Answer my questions,” the man says, still more irritated with you than anything else. Kid? You’re fucking 40. Whatever. “Um, no brain damage that I know of, but I have a theory that I had an undiagnosed concussion as a teenager, um, but I’m out here trying to not get eaten by clickers, or raiders, or murdered, or worse and trying not to starve. Also, no people. I have no people.” You ramble quickly and the man sighs, AGAIN. You look down and see a rough black outline in the grass below and- “Oh, thank fuck.”

You reach down, clean them off on the part of your black long sleeved shirt that doesn’t have blood or clicker gunk on it and put them on with a long sigh of relief, “Do you know how hard it was to find glasses that actually helped me see and hold onto them and not break them in this shit show of an existence…” another sigh of relief as you open your eyes to finally look at the man who saved your life and already seems like he wants to take it back from you and Holy shit. He’s hot, there’s no other way to put it. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen on planet earth, and you’ve just ran your goddamn smart mouth like a fucking moron this entire time. Without the decency to be quiet and nervous in front of, again, THE HOTTEST PERSON YOU HAVE EVER SEEN. You choke on your own thoughts and wide-eyed look into his eyes, they’re chocolate brown and filled with life and emotion, he’s gruff and scary but his eyes…god, they betray him. His hair is just below his ears, curled and brown with slices of gray throughout. His face is worn, scarred, like he’s been through shit, you know because you have too. His nose is like a roman god’s, aquiline and fucking beautiful. He’s got a patchy beard the same two colors as his curly hair and his lips are full and pouty with a mustache and you wonder how it would scratch if he put his mouth on your neck. Wait, what the fuck. I mean he’s hot but instantly thinking of him kissing your neck… relax bitch.

He clears his throat, looking at you like you have two heads and sighs. He really likes to sigh. Then he finally speaks in a stern but soft voice, “Okay, look, don’t know why, but I believe you when you say you’re alone, your eyes look like you haven’t eaten in a few days, that true?” You nod and he seems relieved that you don’t start speaking again, so you stick with it and stay silent. His southern drawl continues, “I come from a community. If you want, I’ll take ya there. Food, shelter, medical. You gotta contribute and you gotta behave. Might want to watch that smart mouth of yours until people start trustin’ you, or maybe forever.” You look at him, tears threatening to fall, turning away to shield him or yourself, you’re not sure. Food. Shelter. Medical. My god how is this possible. He takes this time to look away from you and retrieve jerky from his pack which he holds out for you, and you take it. “Thank you...” you say in the quietest voice you think you’ve ever used realizing you don’t know his name. “Joel, name’s Joel Miller.” He nods and points his head in the direction he wants you to walk. Looking at your hair he says, “C’mon Ash,” and he follows just behind you. What you don’t see is the uptick of his lip on one side that reveals a dimple you’ve yet to witness on his beautiful face and his eyes linger on you for far too long when he should be watching your surroundings. That’s what you don’t see.

[sh4wty18]

✨Hello! I hope you are having a great weekend. I was wondering if you could write a Johnnie Guilbert x reader story about Johnnie, Jake, Tara, Carrington, the reader going to a party. At the party, the reader has a panic attack, and Johnnie notices her walking away. He follows her, helps her through it, and they open up to each other. The reader becomes really attached, kisses him, then immediately apologizes. Johnnie reassures her, kisses her again, and maybe there's some smut or just a good makeout scene - whatever you want to write! ✨

I LOVE THIS!! sorry it took so long <3

panic attack.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: same as request.

cw: angst, fluff, language, alcohol, graphic description of a panic attack

word count: 2.7k + edited

a/n: this is based on my own personal experiences with anxiety and panic attacks. i'm not saying this is what panic attacks look like for everyone, this is just how i have experienced them. also nothing i write about johnnie is accurate (i have no clue if he has/had panic attacks, i just said that for the sake of the fic and this is all FICTIONAL!!)

---

“Guys come on! We’re gonna be late to our own party!!” Jake yells up the staircase, “Tara’s already there!” 

You sigh and turn to face Johnnie, who’s finishing up his makeup. You’d already finished getting ready, but decided to wait for your friend in his room. You were super close with all of them: Johnnie, Jake, Tara, and Carrington, but you’d always been closest with Johnnie. There was just something about him. He always seemed to understand you better than anyone. You never felt like you couldn’t be one hundred percent yourself around him, and it was obvious he felt the same way about you. You were both open with each other about everything, nothing was off limits or TMI. It didn’t take long after becoming friends with them for Johnnie to suggest you move in with him, Jake, and Carrington. Their house had five bedrooms and they’d been wanting another roommate for months, so when Johnnie suggested you take the fourth bed, they’d all eagerly agreed. 

“Ugh, I really wasn’t feeling like a party tonight,” you complain, tracing Johnnie’s comforter with your finger. 

“I know, y/n, me neither. But we can’t back out now, we promised Jake and Tara we’d be there.” Johnnie replies, making eye contact with you through his vanity mirror. “It’s okay, we can stick together the whole time, I promise.” 

You smile and feel your cheeks flush. Although you considered Johnnie to be one of your closest friends, there was always something about him that drew you in other than just friendship. He was a very pretty person, and there was no doubt you were physically attracted to him, but recently you couldn’t quite distinguish whether the butterflies in your stomach were just due to his appearance, or if there was something else there as well— something romantic. You were always flirting with each other, it was a bit between the two of you. It had started out as a joke in his videos, similar to how he and Jake flirt. Eventually though, it had made its way off camera. You’d both learned exactly what to do and say to make the other blush, and once you started it was hard to stop. It became like an addiction of sorts, or maybe it was longing. You both knew deep down there was more to it, that it had always been more than just a bit, but you were too anxious to do anything about it. 

“Finally!” Johnnie exhales, “I’m ready.” 

He stands and faces you, and you give him a once over, eyes lingering on his silk button-down that hangs open to show off his tattoos. “Wow, Johnnie… you look hot.” 

He clears his throat as you stand up in front of him, “You look really pretty too, y/n.”

You smile at him, “Thanks, Johnnie.” 

Suddenly, Carrington slams the door open, and you both snap your attention away from each other, “Jesus Christ, can y’all stop flirting for one second so we can leave!!” 

You start, “We weren’t-” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you gotta tell yourselves.” Carrington rolls his eyes and leads the two of you downstairs.

“Fucking finally, dudes!!” Jake yells, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. 

“Sorry Jakey, Johnnie here took fifty fucking years to finish his makeup,” You say. 

“Damn, all that time getting ready and you still look like shit!” Jake jokes.

“Gee, thanks dude.” Johnnie says sarcastically. 

Jake claps him on the shoulder, “What? If your girlfriend’s not gonna tell you the truth, I will,” he teases. Both your mouths hang agape at his comment, and he rolls his eyes again, “Will you both chill the fuck out, I’m just jokin’! Johnnie, baby, you look great.” He wraps his arm around Johnnie’s shoulder and leads him toward the front door, and you and Carrington follow behind. 

When you arrive at Jake’s car, Carrington shouts, “I call shotgun!” And jumps into the passenger seat. Johnnie laughs as you both climb in the backseat together, and you smile at him. 

The ride to the club Tara and Jake have rented out for their party tonight is short but tense, at least for you. You had not been in the mood for social interaction tonight, as your anxiety had been particularly bad today. You had gotten overstimulated twice just from hearing Jake and Carrington yelling and clanging pots and pans from the kitchen. It wasn’t their fault and you knew it, so you had isolated yourself in your room for the majority of the day, trying to calm yourself down with the looming thought of the party hanging above your head. But you couldn’t help it, you’d been overthinking about the party all day, and the only person you could swallow being around right now was Johnnie. He must have sensed your anxiety, because he rested his hand on top of yours as Jake pulled into the club parking garage, and you turned to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hey,” he whispered, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll stick together, okay?” 

You exhale deeply and nod, mentally preparing yourself to take on the night. 

The four of you make your way from the parking garage into the club, where Tara waits at the door. “You’re late!” She swats at Jake’s arm in annoyance. 

“I know… these fools took too long getting ready.” He points at you and Johnnie accusingly. 

“Mhm, I bet they did.” She side-eyes you both and smirks. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Johnnie asks, light embarrassment lining his tone. 

“Nothing, nothing. Just that you two seem to be getting awfully close is all,” Tara remarks, and Jake elbows her in the side. “Ow! What? We’re all thinking it!” 

“Can we just go in?” You ask, a bit more aggressively than you’d intended, but you were eager to get this night over with. 

“Yeah! Sorry…” Tara trails off. 

The five of you walk into the club and are immediately met with blaring music, screaming and laughter. The party is already packed and it’s only 11. You don’t want to see how much crazier it’s going to get as the night goes on. 

Jake, Carrington, and Tara walk ahead to greet people as you hesitate near the entrance with Johnnie by your side. “You doing okay?” He asks. 

You try not to let your anxiety take over, and give him a thumbs up. “Maybe we could get a drink?” 

“Sure, let’s go,” he stretches his hand out towards you and you take it happily, his touch alone somewhat helping to calm your nerves. He guides you towards the bar, “What do you want, y/n? I can order for both of us.” 

“I’ll have a vodka cranberry.” 

He giggles, “Turning into a basic valley girl on me?”

“Never!” You laugh in response. 

“Well, we’ll be basic together.” He orders two vodka cranberries and then guides you to where your friends are gathered— in the middle of the crowd. “Is this okay?” He asks. 

It really wasn’t, but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him, so you nodded, holding on even tighter to his hand as the noise escalated around you. 

Once you reach your friends, Jake and Tara start shouting over the blaring music to talk to Johnnie, no doubt teasing him for holding your hand, even though he was just being sweet. Carrington was lost in the crowd, probably dancing wildly with Troy and Keith. You didn’t know where they were. You didn’t know what Jake and Tara were saying. You couldn’t pay attention to anything other than how loud the music was, and how many people were shoving into you, invading your personal space. 

Suddenly everything was wrong. The music was hurting your ears and the colorful strobe lights were too bright. You squinted and let go of Johnnie’s hand to cover your ears, but people kept bumping into you and giving you dirty looks. You could feel your heart rate getting faster as you got more and more overstimulated by everything around you. Your breath quickened, and you felt your eyes starting to get teary. Just as your hands started tingling you finally got called back into reality by Tara, who was placing her hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly, “Earth to y/n! Are you good?” She asked. You know she’s just joking, but you were so uncomfortable and didn’t want to be touched you shrugged her off and turned around, walking toward the exit. 

You hear Tara shout, “Jeez! What’s wrong with her?” You couldn’t explain, you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Johnnie’s eyes linger on you as you speed walk towards the door. 

All you could think about was how you could suddenly feel all of your clothes scratching your body, your ears and eyes were throbbing, there were pins and needles running down your forearms and paralyzing your hands, and you couldn’t breathe. Fuck, you really couldn’t breathe. You finally got outside and into the cool night air, but you couldn’t calm yourself enough to take a deep breath so you continued hyperventilating. You flapped your hands aggressively, as if trying to shake off the overstimulation that seems to be staining your body. Your cries come out as choked sobs, and you walk in circles, not knowing what to do, which only enhances your panic. Usually when you have panic attacks, you call one of your parents and they help talk you down. But it was late at night and you didn’t want to wake them. 

You’re still sobbing and hyperventilating, and your hands are still numb with pins and needles when you see Johnnie exiting the club, frantically searching for you. 

His eyes widen when he sees you, and he runs up to greet you. “Y/n, there you are!” He says, relieved. “Can I touch you?” He asks. 

You nod, still unable to speak. He was the only person you felt comfortable being touched by right now. He takes both your hands, gently pressing one to your own chest and the other to his. “Feel that?” He asks rhetorically. “Feel my heartbeat?”

You nod again.

“Breathe with me, y/n. Look at me.” 

You lock eyes with him, watching as he breathes deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth. You attempt to follow his lead, your breaths coming out strained and ragged. Soon you’re able to take a full breath in, using his heart rate as your guide and matching your breathing to his. 

“Now tell me three things you can hear,” Johnnie says.

“Um…” you mutter, your throat sore from sobbing, “I hear the party, I hear cars, and I hear crickets chirping.”

“Good. Now three things you can feel.” He never removes his hands from yours, still pressing them to your chests to keep your breathing level. 

“I can feel the wind in my hair, I feel my skirt scratching my legs… and I feel your hands.” 

He hesitates for a second, smiling at you, “Good. And now three things you can see.”

“I see cars driving by. I see the stars. And I see your eyes… you have the prettiest eyes.”

Johnnie blushes, “Thanks, y/n.” He clears his throat before letting his hands fall to his sides, “Do you feel any better?” 

You take in your surroundings, noticing how you no longer feel suffocated by your senses, you aren’t squinting at the light anymore, your hands aren’t tingling, and you are breathing normally. “Yes, I feel a lot better. How’d you know what to do?” You ask as you sit on a bench next to the club entrance. 

Johnnie joins you, sitting down and resting his hand next to yours, close but not touching. “Just some tricks my old therapist taught me. They always helped during my panic attacks.” 

“You have panic attacks?” You ask, shocked that he’s never told you. 

“I haven’t in a while, but I used to ‘cause of my anxiety and depression and stuff. You know if you felt uncomfortable in there, you could've told me, right? Making you feel like that is the last thing I ever wanna do. I would’ve gladly ditched that party and everyone there for you.” He looks down and slowly slides his hand closer to yours, resting two of his fingers on top of yours, waiting for your permission. You open your hand to him, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. You’ve held hands countless times before, but this was different. There was no mistaking this for platonic, it was completely, unapologetically romantic. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you admit. 

Sadness rushes over his face, “Y/n… I could never think you’re weak. You remind me how to be strong everyday.”

“Thank you,” you say. “For everything.” You stand up and pull him off the bench and into a tight embrace.

He pulls away first and gazes down at you, taking you in. His eyes savor every inch of your face and he moves one hand up to cradle your neck. Your hands fall to his neck, and your eyes drop to his lips for a split second, before meeting his gaze again. “Fuck it,” you say before closing the gap between your mouths. You feel his entire body freeze at your kiss, and you immediately pull away, embarrassed. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I thought–” You let out a humiliated laugh, “I completely misread this situation.” He stares at you, shock still lingering on his face. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna go,” you say, letting go of him and getting ready to walk back into the party. It’s the last thing you want to do, but saving yourself the humiliation of spending another second with Johnnie after potentially ruining your friendship is your only priority right now. 

“Y/n, wait.” He firmly grips your wrist, pulling you back into him. The hand that gripped your wrist falls back into place at the small of your back, and his other hand rests on the side of your face, thumb slowly rubbing circles into your cheek. “Kiss me,” his eyes gaze into yours with longing, “Please.” 

A small smile forms on your face, and you drape your arms around his neck again, pulling him in to kiss him. He hesitates a little at first, before finally succumbing to whatever flame was igniting between you. He yanks your torso flush against his, and you feel his tongue beg for entry. You open your mouth slightly and feel his tongue flick against yours. In one swoop he turns you around, backing you into the side of the building and resting one hand on the wall next to your head. You run your hands down his chest and eventually his waist, which you pull closer to you. A small moan escapes your lips as he pulls away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. You move your hands up the back of his shirt, clawing at his back as he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck. He groans at the feeling of your nails on his back, and you let out a small “Fuck,” in response.

“Johnnie,” you whisper, pulling his attention away from your neck and back up to your face, “I want to kiss you again.” He smiles and leans in to grant your wish, pressing his lips to yours in yet another deep, messy kiss. Still, you couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how sloppy it got, how close your bodies were, how tangled his hands were in your hair, nothing was enough. You still needed more. 

He must’ve sensed this, because he abruptly broke away, pressing his forehead to yours and groaning out, “Let’s get out of here.” 

“But the party–” 

“I don’t really care about the party right now. They already think we’re gonna end up together, they’ll be happy to know we finally fucked.” 

You smirk, “So you wanna fuck me, Johnnie?” 

He blushes, “Was it not obvious from me practically eating your neck?” 

“Oh, it was. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He smiles and kisses you again, his hand moving down your back to squeeze your ass. “Yeah, y/n. I want to fuck you.” 

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You breathe against his lips before kissing him. 

“It won’t be. I want to be more than just your best friend, if you’ll have me?”

“Do you really have to ask?” You smile, “Of course I’ll have you.”

---

i love this one and i hope you did too. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[highlordofkrypton]

Time for me to say ONE LAST THING on all this drama, but it's important to me.

art is a form of therapy

you do not know other people's trauma, and you sure as hell cannot know a person even if they posted everything about themselves on their blog

no one holds the right to say what is valid or invalid

The ACOTAR fandom has an exquisite way of policing trauma as well as character and ship enjoyment. the fans pick and choose who is deserving of community, kinship and basic decency.

I speak a lot about empathy on my blog because I cannot know what a person is going through on the other side of the screen, and though I don't always agree, I have enough decency not to go out and make rules excluding people, insult others, while calling myself a positive space.

Just because your trauma means that you prefer to avoid certain topics or characters does not make anyone else who enjoys said character a bad person. some people, myself included, work through trauma through art.

My writing has saved my life, and the compassion I choose to give to "fictional "abusers (btw, victimhood and abuse does not come in one absolute form and you CAN be both a victim and an abuser with a capacity to change) is intentional. I do not glorify abuse, but I understand that art and humans are nuanced.

I also think it's a real privilege to look at other people's traumas, especially intergenerational trauma which is extremely hard to overcome, and say that 'nah, that person is just an abuser'.

I think it's hypocritical to claim fight against abuse, and fight for victims of abuse while carelessly flinging 'abuse sympathizers' and other insults to people you don't even know.

You realize that's a form of abuse, too? Invalidating, gaslighting, etc.

But thank you, ACOTAR fandom for teaching me:

Thank you for teaching me my trauma is only valid if I act like the way you think a victim should

Thank you for teaching me that I do not deserve respect, even if I take extreme care to create nuanced and emotional art because you don't like the character

Thank you for teaching me that if I face my abusers through art, I, myself am an abuser

Thank you for reassuring me that your fav, who is closer to my abuser almost to a R, deserves redemption because you love him more, and he is more attractive

I have never used my trauma as a credibility card to judge and be dismissive of real people in fandom. If you want to police something, police your fucking content.

People aren't content for you to consume, and vomit your unfiltered opinions on. It's time people remember what community means, which remembers interacting with other people who are not your abusers. Maybe take a second and fucking learn about other perspectives, grow as a person or whatever the fuck you need to be a decent person.

If you plan to reblog this invalidating/arguing what I've said above because blah blah you're still upset about your fav or ship, please take a second to read the post again 'cause you've lost the plot.

Now, I'm done. Peace out ✌️

Additional note: You know what I fucking do with my trauma? I make beautiful shit for everyone to enjoy. You don't don't have to read or care about my stories full of depth and nuance, but if you laugh at my fucking memes that are for EVERYONE and you turn around and shit on people, you suck.

[purpleskiesupwards]

CHARACTER POVs - DISTINCT DESCRIPTION VOICE THROUGH ACTIONS

Okay, so I am a growing writer. I am not perfect. But I felt like sharing something because I had a discussion about it with my younger cousin who was into journaling and now wants to venture into writing fiction. (It is my way of understanding things for myself, you can find it useless or useful, depending on if you see things in a similar way as me or not ...therefore, your opinion can differ)

So...when I started writing 12 years ago, at the age of twelve, I struggled with many things...especially how to make my multiple characters' POV sound distinct. Because everyone started to sound very similar in my work, I hated it!

⌢୨୧⌢

Took me years of writing and reading to improve myself, but if one thing I can clearly remember...it is this:

Characters NEED a sketch/mental map/flowchart - whatever you call it. I know some people can do a good job by winging it, but it is essential, in my humble opinion.

When I didn't do this, all my characters sounded the same, except on the parts where I was doing their monologues or introspection narration. Like, my characters didn't have their distinct action to back them, making them sound or appear different. Because even I was unaware of how they'd act or stand or move etc.

What do I mean by this?

Write your character's name and simply write whatever their traits would be around them (whatever form, formally structured or not, doesn't matter) And not just traits, just random Q/As for the characters too like would my characters like blue color or orange color, love to eat sweets or spicy, be a fan of Jimin or Jungkook, lol.

With these traits, how do I make my POVs sound distinct?

Well...Let's say one of the characters is Adam and the other is Ella.

Adam's character is calmer, sensible, pacifist etc. Ella's character is chaotic, impulsive, angry etc.

Now, if the scenario is 'someone has died', their reactions would be completely different and you can make them sound distinct easily. However, the struggle usually occurs in random settings/scenarios.

The scenario is, 'My character is watching a sunrise'. All you need here is a simple introspection of character.

Adam is standing by the window, staring outside at the fluttering beams of sunlight peaking through the dark drape. Adam is a calmer person, sensible and generally peaceful with no extreme reactions, so would he just keep on staring with no reaction or would he lean his head to the window frame and take a deep breath while squeezing his eyes shut to meet the sun in its full glory. Which one sounds in-character for Adam? I think he'd try to relish in the awakening of nature by calming himself down, taking his time with the view, thinking about the memories he shared with let's say his friends one time during the hike witnessing an astonishing sunrise emerging above the peak of mountains while BEING IN THE SCENE OF WATCHING A SUNRISE.

Ella is standing by the window, staring outside at the sunrise. Ella is a chaotic person, impulsive and angry at times, overall a person with a shorter attention span, but wouldn't mind having her coffee while staring outside the window. So...would she just stare outside and admire the popping colours in the sky or scroll through her phone while sipping her coffee and occasionally looking outside to see the warm light bathing the horizon. She'd groan at the low-charge indicator and slam the coffee mug on the window sill in irritation. Which one sounds in-character for her, I think she'd not be actively attentive to the sunrise, she'd be grunting about the low charge or her coffee being too sweet while BEING IN THE SCENE OF WATCHING A SUNRISE.

You see, we can't write distinct-sounding descriptions or character monologues or transitioning scenes or opening scenes or whatever, WITHOUT KNOWING "WHO" YOUR CHARACTER IS.

If we didn't know how Adam and Ella are, the scene could have turned out simply with Adam watching the sky and admiring it or being sentimental with his internal monologue and Ella watching the same sun and monologuing about how pissed she is at something.

On the surface level, you can say that one of them is being sentimental and the other is angry — they will sound different. They will, but there will be no 'action' making them seem distinct, highlighting their personality in more than just a 'telling' manner. The good old rule of 'show don't tell' applies here.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

In short, it is simply about KYC - Know your characters, because otherwise, you are writing every person as Adam or Ella or XYZ.

[velvateen]

Hi you, I'm writing to you from Belgium! Thank you so much for your work, omg I love your writing so much!!! (you managed to make me get SICK butterflies in my stomach on your fiction "i am your singer" -smut LMAO-)

I'd like to suggest a story idea for zoro, I dreamt about him yesterday and in my dream he always found an excuse to get into the rooms I was in (very often the bathroom… While I was showering of course…) (example: it's dinner time // we're looking for you everywhere, I wanted to make sure you were okay…) Would you be willing to smut this dream into reality? 💚

(of course, it's a proposal, you're free to choose! Thank you so much for reading! 🥰)

don’t bother knocking - zoro x reader nsfw

hiiiii tysm for the request this is lowkey one of my fav pieces for this blog yet lol. enjoy!!

warnings: oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, fem bodied reader, no pronouns used

1.6k words

You ran your hands through your hair, making sure all of the soap had been wrung out. Ears blocked by water, you nearly missed the squeak of the door hinge as it opened. Sticking your head out of the shower, you saw Zoro, leaning against the counter.

“Can I help you?” You drew back into the water.

“No,” he hummed, “Just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute! Don’t let them all wait up for me, alright?”

He grunted in response, and it took a few more seconds for you to hear the door open and close again.

Weird. Whatever. You stepped out of the shower, spotting wet footprints across the bathmat as you dried yourself off.

Zoro’s been acting this way lately. Always seeming to be where you want to go. Always showing up where you are. You try not to read too much into stuff with Zoro, maybe it’s just his way of trying to be closer friends with you. He’s got so many lofty aspirations that it’s hard for you to justify what your heart wants and what the crew already sees unfolding: Zoro’s got a thing for you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

You towel off your hair and make your way to the kitchen, where you take your seat next to Zoro. Luffy is lunging for everyone’s plates although they’re all almost done eating, Zoro included. You sigh as you start to eat, relishing in the taste of Sanji’s perfect meal, and you rest your head on your hand as you start to pick at the plate. Distracted by the dinner, you don’t notice how close your arm on the table has gotten to Zoro’s. The heat of the shower is radiating off of your skin and onto his, and the hair on his arms raises. He fights the blush that settles on his ears, making no effort to pull away from your touch.

He stays there long after he’s finished eating.

The knock on your door is most unexpected, at this hour. You get out of your bed, setting down the book you’d been reading, and peek through the sliver of the door. When you see who it is, you open it wider.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Zoro avoids your gaze a bit. Not completely, just enough to notice. He shrugs.

“Was bored. Mind if I hang out with you?”

You lick your lips. Zoro notices.

“Yeah, come on in, I was just reading,” you back away from the door and fall back into place on your bed. Picking up your book, Zoro sits on the side of your bed.

“What’s this about?” You take the book from him and set it down on your nightstand.

“I don’t really know yet, just started it tonight. But the cover is pretty so that means its gotta be good,” you laugh.

“Pretty sure there’s a phrase advising directly against that way of thinking but whatever,” Zoro mutters. You lean against the headboard as you laugh.

“Right, yeah, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’, well I happen to find that is the best method to finding anything good.”

“Is that right?” Zoro inches unperceptively closer to you, the arm bracing himself now over your legs.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Zoro licks his lips. You notice.

“What have you been doing hanging out with me so much? What’s the angle?”

“No angle.”

“No angle?”

“Maybe there’s an angle,” he smiles. His eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second, but long enough to ignite a heat that’s started to burn in your stomach. Maybe, you realize, it’s been burning for a while now.

Zoro’s grown closer to you now, something you both realize. But the realization doesn’t make you pull away, not now that he’s got a hand cupping your jaw and tilting your face as if he’s practiced it a thousand times, just for this. Just for you.

You eyes close slowly as you feel the touch of warm, chapped, rough lips ghost your own. It’s as if he’s afraid to push too hard, to break a spell or scare you off, he touches you so dearly. The kiss deepens slightly, but never in a rough way, no, Zoro’s staked so much on this moment to ever make any motion that might scare you off.

You pull away, a giddy laugh making it’s way past your lips. Zoro searches your eyes for any trace of doubt or unrequited emotion, but he doesn’t find it. And he can’t help but catch that infectious laugh, that smile that cracks across your face with such abandon that it takes all of his efforts to not let it consume the entirety of his soul. It does anyway. You lean back up and let Zoro follow you down to where you sat against the headboard, and he moved to straddle you, running a hand through your hair and gently holding by the roots, committing all of these feelings to memory. He’s waited long enough to feel you, and now that he’s got you in his hands, he wants nothing more than to break down every wall you’ve built around yourself, to touch your skin, to sink into you.

He sinks his teeth, experimentally, into you. Not to damage, but to be able to look back tomorrow at breakfast and know that it wasn’t all a dream. Your fingers make his earrings clink as you run a thumb over them, tugging his ear close to your mouth.

“You wanna?” You whisper, the soft smile you’re wearing evident in your cadence.

“If you’ll let me,” he answers, trying not to give himself away. He does anyways. His hands, antsy to roam, have made their way down to your pajama pants and make a move to tug, but you pull away.

“Me first.”

You move to the floor, and Zoro’s hand flies to your nape, not wanting to lose touch with you for a second. His pants have pooled near you on the floor, and with it come his boxers. You lick your lips. And boy, does he notice.

The grip he has on your hair tightens, but is never harsh. Never with you. Even as your lips and tongue start to envelop and swirl around the tip of his dick. Never harsh. Even when his other hand clenches tightly into the mattress. Even as you take him further, noting every vein present and pulsing under your administrations. Even as he fights the urge to tell you every thought he’s ever had about you. Never harsh. Even when his hand leaves your hair to wipe tears brimming at your eyes, he does it with such tenderness that you start to question if the tears are from the gag at all.

Zoro pulls away from you, clearly a motion of great strain, and he pulls you back up to the bed, where you finally kick off those damn pajama pants. Laying down, Zoro’s eyes ask an unspoken affirmation from you, as his fingers hook around the edges of your underwear. You nod, and the haste of which he pulls them down makes you laugh. His lips are back on yours, tasting your laughter, until he pulls away to cup a hand on your cheek, slipping his thumb into your mouth, greeted by an unexpecting hum. He draws it out of your mouth with a pop, and brings it down to your center, dragging it across your folds, holding you open. You take in a sharp inhale as he rubs his thumb across your clit in circular, steady motions. He smiles, watching as you start to clench around nothing, and all for him. His lips are back on your neck, kissing further down until they ghost over your chest, pause, and continue kissing over the cloth of your shirt. Your back arches towards his warm breath, the fire in your stomach reaching a blaze. Your hands are all over his back as he continues to work you open, steadily puting more pressure on your nerves. You groan at the feeling, impatience starting to wear you down.

Zoro hears the quickening of your breath, and decides to sink a finger into you, working it around to get you adjusted. You huff in exasperation as he pulls away, only long enough to get himself settled towards you. His hand is above your head as he angles himself, dragging his dick along your folds. You groan in unison as you feel each other’s warmth, the culmination of all this waiting paying off after all these years. He sinks in, slightly, not so much to satiate you by any means, no, but it’s enough to get you adjusted.

Zoro takes a deep breath, and lets it go as he slides fully, sheathed impossibly tight within you.

You take a deep breath, and you let it go as you’re filled, depths reached.

“Good?”

“Good.”

With your affirmation, he moves, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace. But never harsh, never abrasive.

Not tonight.

There will be other nights, nights with less on the line, where Zoro will allow himself to tear into you, to deny and restrain you, but not tonight.

Tonight, Zoro focuses on loving you, which comes easily, given that it seems as he was born to do just that.

_____

The warmth of the hot water soothes your legs as you bend down to turn the shower off. The cool air of the night hits you as you step out of the shower, not surprised to see Zoro leaning against the counter. He watches as you wrap the towel around yourself.

“Can I help you?” You muse, tucking the towel in and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He smiles at you, resting his hands on your waist.

“Nope,” he presses a kiss onto your lips, “no angle here.”

a/n: hey everypony mwahahaha almost got carried away w this one it’s like one billion words. anyways school is still kicking my ass. sorry responding to this took so long!! hope everyone has a good day and eats good food! okay bye kitties meow

[sjywrites]

could i req a cute fluffy fic with a jealous ssera member? whoever you want!

༊*·˚ WHO'S THAT?

𝓙ealous! 𝓗uh 𝓨unjin x 𝓖n!reader. 𝓖enre. fluff. 𝓢ypnosis. yunjin is a lil jealous, and she wants you to herself <3 𝓦𝓒 . 385 𝓒𝓦 . one kiss, nothing else!

𝓝ote this is my first ask omg anon I'm gonna kiss your brain

---

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idol/s act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

More under cut!

Yunjin is usually not a jealous person, but the way that guy is all over you, making jokes you laugh at, touching you just a moment too long for it to be friendly makes her blood boil. She knew you didn’t notice he was flirting with you, but her eyes twitched at the thought of him knowing you had a girlfriend. I mean, it's pretty obvious you two were together, you pulled up to the party hand in hand, smiling at each other the whole night. Who could have missed that? Yunjin wasn’t sure what to do, it would be pretty embarrassing to admit she was jealous over a guy you wouldn’t even consider dating in the first place. She knew you were just trying to be friendly, oblivious to his clear motive to get you in bed.

Yunjinnie: Hey, can we go?

Y/N <3: Why? Are you okay?

Yunjinnie: Yes, it’s just… I don’t have a good feeling about the guy you’re talking with.

Y/N <3: Any particular motive for that?

Y/N <3: Did he do something to you?

Yunjinnie: No, I just don’t like him talking to you…

Y/N <3: Babe… Are you jealous?

Yunjinnie: What no!? I just…

Y/N <3: Okay baby I get it, I won’t talk to him more

Y/N <3: In fact why don't you get over here and introduce yourself as my gf? Would that make you feel better?

Yunjinnie: It actually would.

Yunjin walks over to you, glaring at the guy obviously flirting with you. She grabs your hand gently as she introduces herself,

“Hi, I’m Yunjin, Y/Ns girlfriend. Who are you?”

Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, obviously staring at the guy in front of her. The guy looks a little nervous when he answers her question, “Oh! Uhh, I uh, gotta go. I have to uh, find my friends. Bye!” He kind of sprints away from the both of you, almost falling over a few people on his way. Finally leaving you both alone, Yunjin relaxes. “See, nothing to be jealous over.” You say smiling up at her. “I’m not sure that’s how it works baby, but whatever you say” She smiles right back at you, slowly leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

and everyone cheered!! I'm so happy you guys actually like how I write I'm gonna cry, big MWAH to all of youuu