Synopsis: Hudson’s idea and in hindsight you should have known it would end in chaos
“No, you’re gonna throw me.” You laughed after watching a few videos under the sound. Couples laughing and playfully shoving each other on camera.
“No baby, I promise I won’t throw you.” He insisted while holding back his laughter. You studied his face for a long time before sighing.
“Fine, but if you throw me I’m calling Conner.” You joked as he happily cheered while pulling you out to the back yard.
“I look gross.” You mumbled looking down at your outfit. It was a pretty lazy day around the house so you had on loose sweat pants and a tank top, paired with a navy blue heated rivalry sweatshirt with Ilya’s number on the back. Your box braids tossed up in a bun with a scrunchie.
Hudson looked up from where he was setting his phone up to glare at you.
“You look beautiful. Why would you even say that?” He scoffed and you just smiled shyly while pulling your hair from the bun.
“It was a joke.” You mumbled, running your hands through the braids to make sure they weren’t sticking up in odd angles. Hudson studied you for a moment as if he didn’t believe you before turning back to his phone.
After a few seconds Hudson stood up proudly with his hands on his hips and smiled at you.
“Ready?” He asked and you nodded looking at his phone to see that you were standing in the middle of the frame. He turned pressing record before stepping off to the side.
Once the countdown was over and the sound started, Hudson walked towards you. Purposefully bumping into you and you gently pushed him back.
You both laughed as you took turns shoving each other before Hudson grabbed your hands, pulling you towards him. You laughed throwing your head back as he spun around with you in his arms.
Setting you back on your feet, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Then you both turned to the camera and waved.
Your eyes immediately widened when you noticed the smirk on Hudson’s face but before you could react he turned his head and licked the side of your face from your chin to your temple.
“Ew! Hudson! Oh my god!” You laughed shoving him away from you but he just smiled proudly before picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder.
He then winked at the camera before walking out of the frame.
HudsonWilliamsOfficial: I Licked Her, So She’s Mine…Right? 👅
BornPretty_Staypretty: Ooh to be her
HeatedR1valry_: He is so unhinged
➡️Fangirl:No like actually I love him
User420: I love it when hot people date each other.
Itgirl8124: Licking your girlfriend’s face for a TikTok is diabolical
➡️Mrs.Hollanov: I’m sure he’d do it just to do it
I Am Taking Fic Requests!
If you have a TikTok request please also include as least one video link with the request.
I’ve been seeing more Black readers wanting to write x reader stories that actually center poc readers—and that’s such a good way to create representation and explore dynamics that usually get ignored. While this post can apply to everyone, I wrote it with Black women in mind. They’re constantly targeted with hate on this app, left without real representation, and often made to feel too afraid to share their work. And just to be clear—before the ignorant ones show up—yes, x reader fics are meant to avoid assuming identity and stay “inclusive.” But if that were really happening, people wouldn’t have to dig through endless stories full of stuff like "you blushed bright red," "...pale skin," "he ran his fingers through your straight, silky hair," or "he was mesmerized by your blue eyes." That’s not inclusivity. This post is here to encourage and uplift writers who deserve to see themselves in the stories they love.
So here are some tips to help you get started:
➹ Starting Out
1. Pick your character/fandom first.
Who do you want the reader to interact with? Who is driving your motivation? Choosing a specific character gives you immediate direction.
2. Decide on the vibe.
Fluff, angst, romance, horror, or erotica? Knowing the tone makes it easier to start writing scenes.
3. Start small.
Instead of planning a giant fic, write a short drabble (like 300–700 words). You can always expand later!
✍️🏽 Writing POC Reader
Normalize the reader’s identity. Don’t overexplain—just weave details naturally, like references to skin tones, hair textures, cultural foods, or experiences. Avoid stereotypes. Instead of making the story about being a Black, let it be about the relationship/plot while still honoring identity (unless that's what the story is about).
Use inclusivity in description. Instead of “her cheeks flushed red,” you might say “their cheeks warmed” or describe a glow/undertone. If you do reference appearance, tie it to beauty and pride.
Tag your work properly!! If you do reference specific hair textures (like coils) or distinct skin tones, just make sure to tag it or mention it in the header so people looking for something else can scroll past.
Examples for Inspiration:
"At times like this, you envied bald people. Your coils were trapping the humid air against your scalp, the thick heat thriving enough to drive you crazy."
"You smoothed oil down your thighs, watching the dim bedroom light catch the way your brown skin gleamed against the sheets."
"You didn't turn around, but you could feel his gaze tracing the curve of your lips, completely mesmerized by the texure of your hair, your [blank] figure, and the deep, warm glow of your skin in the sunlight."
📚 Writing Techniques
Use second person pov (“you”). That’s the core of x reader writing.
Think like a scene director. Imagine what “you” are doing, how the character reacts, and the emotions.
To really make your scenes pop, you have to play with the actual rhythm of your sentences. The way a sentence is structured dictates the reader's mental and physical state.
Experiment with narration styles!
Play with sentence length. Use long, drawn-out sentences with sensory details when you want a scene to feel heavy, suffocating, or deeply sensual. Then, smash the reader with short, blunt sentences when the tension breaks or something terrifying happens.
Dialogue is gold. It brings out chemistry quickly, but you don’t need a constant back-and-forth to make a story good. Sometimes, the quiet standoff, the heavy silence, or a single, lingering look says more than a whole page of talking.
Show, don’t tell. Instead of writing "you were embarrassed or scared," break down the physical reaction. Write about the sharp catch of breath in your throat, the small, crooked smile you try to hide, or the way your nails dig into your palm to keep from trembling. "You dropped your gaze, but couldn’t hide the small, crooked smile that threatened to break through." Don't take this too literally—sometimes it's best to just name the feeling instead of going on and on.
☆ Tips for Staying Motivated
Write for yourself first, audience second! If you don't love the story, nobody else can do it justice.
Don’t compare your progress. Everyone starts somewhere, and your style will find its own natural rhythm over time.
Test the waters. Post short drabbles on Tumblr, AO3, or Wattpad. Seeing how people respond to small snippets can help you grow without the pressure of a massive project.
Save your inspiration. Keep screenshots, build specific music playlists to anchor the mood of a scene, or save aesthetic boards. It all helps spark ideas when you hit a wall.
Write for dead or tiny fandoms!! If the inspiration is there, DO IT! You'll usually find a small, incredibly dedicated group of readers who are starving for what you're creating.
Basic decency!
Always give people credit where it's due. Writers love knowing their work inspired someone else—it's the highest compliment you can pay. If a specific scene or dynamic sparked an idea for your own fic, drop a note to say that! And if you use someone’s artwork, graphics, or custom dividers to style your post, GIVE THEM CREDIT! Keep the community supportive and respectful.
Her deep wine stained lips catch his attention, before his eyes travel to her attire, making him lick his own.
Who knew blue and cheetah print went together. She honestly could pull off anything, and he never shied from telling her such.
“Always a pleasure, gorgeous.” He flirts, pulling her in for a hug as she inhales his heavenly scent like always. He thought it was cute.
“I missed you!”
“They always do,” he jokes, wincing at the slap she delivers to his arm.
“I'm joking,” he laughs. “I missed you too, girl.”
“Yeah, tryna play me like one of ya lil groupies,” she rolls her eyes.
“Never that. You know you was always my favorite.”
“Your favorite, what?” She raises a brow, waiting on his slick ass to answer.
He chuckles, his pink tongue chasing his toothpick around his mouth as he watches her grow a tad more impatient.
“My favorite lil boo,”
“Damn, how many you got?” She asks, not missing a beat.
He laughs again, earning another slap to the arm.
“Well shit, after you ran off on me,” he holds his heart, making her sigh, “I found somebody else to roll with for a bit, but it ain't last.” He shrugs.
“Aw, she was boring, huh?” She smirks.
“Ah, she was cool. Pretty, too. She was no you, tell ya that,” he winks.
“Nobody's me, Cliff.”
“That's what I missed, girl.”
“Mmhm… you really be telling people I ran off on you??” She asks, not forgetting what he had said.
“Nah, my people know it was mutual,” he assures, “I just wanted my moment.”
“I knew you had a little bit of sense,” she smiles, shaking her head.
“Ha ha. Anyway smart mouth, who got you out the house?”
“I like parties, sometimes! The host and I share a mutual friend and she passed along the invite. Plus who wouldn't wanna use an excuse to show some skin?”
“Mmhm, I told you, you looked good right?”
“Soon as you saw me,” she smirks. “But say it again.”
He chuckles, grabbing her hand to kiss it.
“You look better than Janet Jackson, girl.”
“Ooh, not Janet!” She giggles, swatting him as soon as he releases her hand.
“Shit, I'm serious. Tryna give me a heart attack and shit.”
“Mmhm, come make me a drink and maybe I won't cut you.”
A couple hours into her being in his presence and she was already in trouble.
If it was possible, he's even more fine! And whatever he had on, she was ready to lick it off.
Maybe she was ovulating or something, but she was ready to pounce on him.
“You make this outfit?” He asks, snapping her out of her daze.
“Of course, these boutiques don't have my taste!”
“Mm, and tasty you are.” He smirks, placing his blunt back between his lips.
“Don't start nothing, Cliff,” she laughs, crossing one leg over the other.
“Nothing I can't finish.” He responds, passing her the blunt.
“Well whatchu tryna do?”
He looks her up and down, before darkly chuckling.
“You.”
“Don't.. stop.. fuckin… me, babyyyy!”
Bent over the side of the couch with her skirt up and panties missing, she buries her face into the pillows below her as Cliff fucks her with the most deliciously bruising force.
“Mmf, I missed the fuck outta you, girl,” he grits out, smacking her ass a few times, smirking at his hand print on her brown skin.
“Fucckkk!”
“You missed me too, baby?” He asks, grabbing her neck from behind.
“Ye– yes!” She squeaks out, reaching back to grip his thigh, melting as he grinds into her.
Bending her arm to her back, he thrusts upward, finding what he calls the sweet spot.
Her muffled moans kick into high gear as her arch falters, making him taunt and coo at her.
“Right here, baby? Daddy hittin’ that sweet spot?”
Turning her head to the side to breathe, she whines and weakly nods as he moves his hand to her back, reinforcing her arch, precisely hitting her spot.
“Yes, right there… fuck, that feels s-so good!” She squeals, squeezing her eyes shut at the sensation overload.
“So good,” he moans back, speeding up and knocking the air from her lungs again, making her see stars a little earlier than she planned.
“B-baby, I'm c-cumming!”
“I got you baby, let it out,” he groans, almost following suit as she grips him tight, throbbing something vicious.
“Fffffuckkk,” she moans, squeezing her thighs together as he continues to dip into her sticky center.
“Keep that ass just like that,” his hips moving quicker, damn near making her eyes cross as she continues holding on for dear life with her free arm.
She wasn't even sure how she ended up folded up on his couch.
He just looked so good, yapping about how much he missed her. Couldn't get her and her sweet pussy outta his head.
Next thing you know, she was thanking god that he lived in a house and not an apartment, cause no way they would have went without a noise complaint.
“Who you fuck when I was gone?” He asks, swatting her ass.
“He wasn't you,” she whines.
“Mm,” he pulls her up from the cushion, while still stroking her, “he wasn't, huh?”
Her fingers are now curled around the pillows, as she fervently shakes her head. His hands grip her waist tightly, keeping her in place.
“He couldn't fuck me like you do,”
“Mmm,” he growls right into her ear, making her eyes flutter shut. “He don't get up in them guts like me?”
“Deeper, baby, deeeper,” she moans as he bottoms out and sits there, driving her crazy.
“Where's it at?”
“In my chest,” she breathlessly laughs, making him do the same before moving his hips again.
“Oh, that's my spot,” she moans, biting into her lip as his hand finds her neck, bending her backwards a bit.
“Couldn't find them spots either, hm?” He teases, listening to the way her slick sounds against the slapping of his dick.
“N-noo, fuck! Oh my goodness, that's so good!”
“So good, you gon cum for me, baby?”
“Yess, don't stop!”
How many times did he make you cum?”
“Onnnce,” she ends on a hiss, eyelids too heavy to hold up anymore as the pleasure begins rushing up her toes.
“What a shame.” He says, smirking like she can see him.
Pounding into her a bit harder, she reaches back to grip his thigh, cursing up a storm as she wets up his lap.
Moving his other hand from her hip to her hair, he continues on, making her stomach knot back up.
“Ohmygo–fuck, fuckkk,”
“Cummin’, again?”
“Yes!”
“Wet that shit up,” he commands, smacking her ass again.
She'd lost count of how many times he made her cum, barely able to formulate a coherent thought at this point.
He had a point to prove and was past the point of driving it home. This was torture.
“C-can't take it!”
“Why not?”
“T-tooo much!”
“Too deep?” He taunts, dipping into her shallowly.
She whines at the difference, pushing back on him.
“Nooo!”
“Mhm, come on,” he moves her to straddle him, spreading his arms out on the back of the sofa, while she roams her hands up and down his massive chest.
He let her do her thing as she rocks her hips, sliding up and down with ease, due to how wet he had her.
She watched as his head fell back, his favorite curse word falling from his lips like a chant every time she came down, squeezing him on the way back up.
“Fuuuuck, sweet ass pussy…”
“You missed it, daddy?”
“Mmf,” his heavy hand comes down on her ass, “more than anything, baby.”
Turning her up, she begins bouncing, smirking at his tightening grip on her ass. The squelch of her juices echoes off the wall, along with his grunts.
Next thing she knew, she was holding onto his broad shoulders as he fucked her while standing up, rutting her up and down on his dick.
Her head lolls about like it's independent from her neck, her nails dig into his back as he rocks her absolute world.
“Fuck! Can't st-stop cumming!”
“Good,” he grunts, “don't you fucking stop,”
Their skin slaps roughly as he lifts her with ease, splitting her so deep and delicious, making her holler like she lacks all sense.
Her thighs are tightly wrapped around him, ankles loose and twisting at the intense pleasure rushing through her veins.
Her screams and howls of pleasure gradually fade into hoarseness, as he carts her off to his bed, where she's laid on her back, gagging as he fucks her face.
Heavy hands braced on her throat, he stares down at her teary eyes and winks.
“Can't forget that sweet mouth,” he groans, squeezing his knuckles against her skin.
She purrs back at him, slinking her hand between her legs, rubbing at her soaked slit.
“Look atcha,” he chuckles, smacking her ass, “rub that pussy while I bust all in this throat.”
Her fingers found a sinful rhythm, while he rutted away, digging his free hand into the sheets as he released.
“Mmmmm,” she moans at his taste, stroking him with her free hand, her tongue still swirling around his sensitive tip as her fingers slip through her slimy folds.
“Fuck, baby… shit,” he jerks, smacking her hand away as he steps back, shaking his head at her.
She flips over on her stomach, staring up at him. Still hungry for more.
"Definitely ain't done with that ass," he says with a laugh.
If you’re the type of person who complains about poc writers only writing for poc readers you’re weird.
Like I get it, you go to a new fandom wanting fics and can’t find ones that represent you, but that doesn’t mean you get to bother these lovely people. Fan fiction is free, don’t be a choosy beggar.
For the longest time fan fics have been, for the most part, written for skinny white women. And personally I see the expansion of readers to be a wonderful addition to the community as a whole.
Being able to make the fics that represent you is really fun.
But I really hate to see people complaining about specific reader types. Especially poc readers.
And this is coming from someone who is white. For me I’ve always struggled with fics because I’m not thin, so seeing all the wonderful chubby/fat reader fics makes me so happy.
And I’d imagine it can feel the same for those who aren’t white, finally getting the wonderful fanfic they deserve.
Some people need to realize that not everything has to be catered to them.
Let poc writers have their fun and just scroll by if it’s not for you.
Hello hello! Writing Holding Hands is opening slots again for new members to join our writing group! We have 12 amazing writers in our group, and we're looking to add six more to our numbers, so if you've been working on stories and want a supportive community to write with, we might be the right choice for you!
Some things you should know about our group before hand:
1: We are a VERY dedicated and active group. You must come prepared to read and engage with other writers and their work on a daily basis to be a viable participant for our group. The common-place experience of joining a group, dropping your work and silently hoping someone will read it is an experience we actively avoid, so if you want support and can provide support, we're a great choice. This is a group for writers who want community-- we talk to each other every day, we are familiar with each other's projects, we are colleagues with immense admiration for one another. We take this commitment to community VERY SERIOUSLY.
2: In the spirit of the Fire Horse year, many of us in the group are looking to get published. We hold regular anthology evenings to write short stories together, we keep track of submission calls, we encourage each other to get out there. You do not have to be interested in publishing to be part of our group, but whether you're a hobbyist or on your way to writing a novel, we're committed this year to getting the thing done, finishing drafts, submitting stories, getting to work. If you're not there but you want to be, or you are there and you want people to cheer you on while you do it? Get on in here.
3:Joining this writing group is a commitment that, I say again, must be taken seriously. Members who are not active, communicative and supportive of others will get kicked. If you have a very busy school schedule or work schedule or you're just not the type to talk to people online regularly? Definitely not the group for you. Part of the motivational aspect of this group dynamic is that we are consistently investing time and energy into each other. We are also critique forward and that might be challenging for some writers in the process of creating their work. If you are uncomfortable with critique, we're also not for you. While we hold a very high standard of operating from a place of compassion and professionalism, critique is an important part of the work we do together, and it will be something you experience as regularly as you receive compliments and kudos for your progress.
4:This is an 18+ group and many of our writers write graphic horror, erotica and complicated themes. You don't have to read everyone's work or even like everyone's work to participate in this group, but you must be an adult and you must be comfortable with adult content.
5: Queer writers and writers of color are highly encouraged and welcome; we need more spaces where stories that often get overlooked are celebrated and supported, so if you're in either of these categories and looking for community, please do apply. More than half of our members are queer and people of color, and we want more. MORE.
All that being said, if you are interested, please email me at [email protected] answering these questions.
1: What are you writing currently? Tell me a little about it.
2: What's your process like? How often are you finding time to write and read?
3: What do you feel you would bring to a writing group that would benefit your fellow writers?
4: What do you need most when it comes to community as a writer? What would make you feel supported and confident as you work?
5: How comfortable are you with criticism of your work as it's being created?
6: Do you have capacity to support others by reading their work and engaging in the chat along with working on your own projects?
7: If supporting others and engaging with the server becomes difficult, how will you address this difficulty?
Even if now isn't the time for you or this isn't your thing, please reblog to pass it around!
Thanks so much!
Alexander
𐙚⋆.˚ if you would like to be added to a taglist, simply ask via my inbox or the comment section. please be specific about which one, though! say for example, “hey, can i be added to your main taglist for all your works? thank you!” or “could you please tag me for this series?”
𐙚⋆.˚ if you change your mind along the way and want to be removed from a taglist, that’s no problem. i won’t take it personally! just shoot me a dm and you won’t be tagged in any future works of mine.
𐙚⋆.˚ down below, i will keep track of the taglists, so that i can keep an overview of everybody, and hopefully not forget to tag anyone. i will add taglists along the way as requests to be tagged come in.
EM’S OEUVRE .ᐟ
all my works: @sxphr2 @vianawaits @slut4hotppl @6000-fandoms @starr-jazz @therealmoonstone
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS .ᐟ
all percy jackson and the olympians works: @mruizsworld @leovaldez0924
warnings: this is my first fic, heavily mature!, mentions of stripping, drug use, alcohol use yadda yadda yadda.
summary: It’s Jude’s 21st birthday and he couldn’t be any more happier, he’s on vacation in the black city of sin. His american friends wanted him to get a taste of what atlanta girls were like. as soon he walks in he’s in euphoria.
Jude was nervous, though he tried not to show it. American club culture was a mystery to him, and Atlanta’s scene? Completely uncharted territory. It wasn’t his usual crowd, no where near it, but it was his twenty-first birthday, and he felt like he owed himself a change of pace. The UK clubs he knew had grown stale, he needed something new. he figured why not disappear into a space where no one would notice him.
“Gang, I’m telling you, this is gonna blow your mind,” his friend said, grinning as they headed to his favorite spot. Jude laughed quietly, turning the name over in his head: ‘Magic City’ The words conjured an image of some surreal palace, complete with wizard-themed strippers and glowing wands.
But as the car turned onto the street and the neon lights spilled across his face, he realized he’d imagined entirely wrong. Magic, indeed—but not the kind he was prepared for.
They pulled up to a small, run-down spot—a real hole in the wall. The parking lot reeked of dark liquor, weed, tobacco, and shame. This was way out of Jude’s element. He’d seen some shady pubs back home, but this? This was a whole different ball game. “What is this, man?” Jude asked, laughing nervously as his eyes darted around, head on a swivel. His friend just grinned, leaning against the car like he’d seen this a hundred times. “Nigga This? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, that’s what it is.”
Before Jude could say anything, his friend slapped a fat wad of cash in his hand—bills crumpled and messy, ranging from ones to hundreds. “Now quit tweaking’ and come on,” his friend said with a wide grin. “Enjoy your 21st, nigga!”
Jude was on cloud nine, completely lost in the moment. He felt like he wasn’t even in his own body anymore. The shots kept coming, the weed too, and it hit different here in the US—stronger, sharper, like everything was amplified. His senses were spinning, the music vibrating through his bones. Then, a dancer reached out, her skin glowing under the kaleidoscope of lights. Without thinking, he mumbled, “You’re beautiful,” his voice slurring, eyes half-lidded and heavy.
His friend’s laughter echoed from a distance, barely audible over the chaos. “Have fun!” he called out, waving them off with a wild grin. the girl was beautiful, her gold bikini reflected and highlighted her brown complexion. she was completely intoxicating to say the least, making Jude feel like he was even farther out his body. “Thank you, honey,” she said with a soft country drawl. Jude couldn’t help but smile; there was something about it that made her even more captivating.
She took his hand and led him into a room. The lights were bathed in red, and a disco ball spun above, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the walls, making everything feel surreal. Jude felt the pulse of the music deep in his chest, the atmosphere thick with heat and energy. The room seemed to spin with him, the lights blurring together as he followed her, captivated by her every move.
She moved with grace, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him, and it only made everything feel more intense. Jude could barely focus on anything else, lost in the rhythm of the moment, not sure where he ended and the dream began.
“Damn,” he mumbled, cupping her ass, his gaze fixed on her as if he was studying something he couldn’t quite believe was real. She was perfect in his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn’t believe he had her—at least for now.
Music filled the air, a steady rhythm setting the scene as she began her routine, grinding against him with a slow, teasing motion, drawing him in with every movement. Jude fought to keep his hands to himself, but couldn’t help slipping a few hundreds into the waistband of her thong, silently showing his appreciation for the moment.
“What’s your name, love?” he mumbled, trying to keep his composure, though it was harder with each passing second “Euphoria,” she whispered in his ear, her voice dripping with seduction. She traced the top of his ear with her tongue, sending a jolt of pleasure down his spine. “You like when I dance for you, baby?” she teased, settling onto his lap, her body pressing against him. Jude could barely think, his mind clouded as he nodded, his face flushed with heat. “You could be a model, fuck the strip club,” he muttered, his hands instinctively moving to her sides, groping at her waist. Her breathing slowed, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as the intensity between them grew.
“Why do you even work here?” Jude asked, his hand lightly grazing her butt as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Gotta get through school somehow,” she snickered, glancing up at him. “I know you don’t really care though.”
Jude immediately furrowed his brows, shaking his head. “Nah, that’s not me. You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met, I have to care.” Euphoria laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “Wow, you English men really are charming, huh?” It was clear that Euphoria found him attractive too, the men who typically came through were the usual Atlanta crowd. She hated her job, but if she had to do it, at least she could enjoy a bit of variety. And Jude? He was all the variety she needed. Handsome, kind, and foreign—he stood out in a way no one else did.
She welcomed the nervousness in his voice, the way he seemed a little unsure. It felt like talking to a friend, like they could connect in a way she didn’t often experience, even in the midst of her nearly naked state. Everything felt natural with him, easy, like they’d known each other far longer than they had.
“you’re sweet” she said blushing and getting up “but your dance is up sweetheart”
“that felt way too short, i need to see you again— and in the daylight”
“baby none of your american friends told you about my kind? its bad luck to wife a stripper”
