How to Support Writers During the Scourge of A.I. Bullshit
Do
Interact with us. Talk to us. Reach out to us. Many writers physically write for themselves, but they share for others. To build a community and connect with someone, to learn from them, and to make a genuine connection through something they've created. Comments, questions, rambling tags, they all mean that our writing reached someone who genuinely enjoyed it.
Share our work. This does not mean repost, this means reblog and/or send the link to friends and other potential readers. Some writers may have negative experiences with their work being shared on other platforms (such as discord), but reblogging is almost always appreciated so we can reach a wider audience. Even if you don't have anything to say or comment, it will help.
Ask questions. Many writers are dying to talk about the creative choices they made, the word choice they fought with until they got it just right, the details they added just HOPING someone would notice it. If you wish you could get more context/detail about a piece, odds are all you have to do is ask!
Treat us like humans (because we are). Crazy concept, right? The thing that terrifies me the most about all this is the potential that we take humanity out of the arts. We replace it with A.I. until human creativity becomes irrelevant because it's more convenient and more profitable.
We are not robots making content for your entertainment, we are people sharing stories to make genuine human connections and share our passions. Stories that take hours, days, months, even years of our lives to properly craft. We practice and study and learn so that we can express ourselves skillfully. Even when done as a hobby for fun, there is heart and energy and time put into the final draft.
And finally, Don't
Use A.I. for anything. Because the more it's used, the more advanced it becomes. The more advanced it becomes, the harder it will be to discern a genuine human touch between an A.I. regurgitating what it's been taught.
In the end, this is a plea. I'm begging you. Do not give A.I. the ability to replace us.
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18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, friends to lovers, skinny dipping, PIV sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, pool sex
WC:1.9K
A/N: Feeling very rusty so I'm attempting to dust the cobwebs off my brain and get back into the swing of things with a little bit of Steve filth.
This will they won't they thing was starting to get old.
The casual flirting between you and your neighbor had ramped up in the last month, but you knew him well enough to realize when he's pulling back on the reins, even if subtly.
Up until now you'd enjoyed the way Steve's gaze wandered over you and the playful banter that tended to edge towards suggestive. You'd even glimpsed the only semblance of 'King Steve' that'd remained ever since he turned his whole image inside out a few years ago — that slight, but thankfully tolerable air of playboy confidence you couldn't find in yourself to dislike despite how you made sure to roll your eyes whenever it appeared.
But things were starting to fizzle out now, you could feel it. This thing that had started to brew between you and Steve seemed to be following the trajectory of a bottle rocket — the chemistry you shared soared for a while but now the chances of things becoming serious appeared to be heading for a nosedive.
Your discerning eyes were too sharp, noticing the flickers of hesitation and trepidation that peeked through when he spoke with you now, less flirting as of late, more awkward floundering and not the adorable kind.
You don't know it yet but the reason was because all those fears he'd thought he'd long outrun had started to shadow him again, afraid of things panning out like they always had in his love life.
The Harrington charm drew the girls in like bumblebees to pollen, everything turning sticky sweet for a while but it always ended the same way — with Steve getting stung.
He's gotten in his head about it �� every bad date, every lousy hook up, every ounce of self doubt he'd tried hard to swallow down regurgitating back up in his mind like bile. He'd even begun to second guess if you really wanted him the way he wanted you, scared of messing things up if he were to make a real move because he doesn't want to lose you. Not after all the years of liking you so much.
Oblivious to his internal turmoil, you only know that the waiting's been hell on you, feeling more than a little fed up of all the flirting that hadn't led to anything more than a spike in sexual tension and a bunch of almost kisses a couple of times you'd been alone with Steve.
Almost wasn't good enough.
You wanted to show him that you were serious about him — no more bullshit. You were determined to go after what you wanted, taking it upon yourself to make the first move, knowing it'll have to be something big if you were going to really convince him.
And you have the perfect thing in mind.
~
Given he was supposed to be the only one home at this hour, the sound of swashing water echoing from the pool deck comes off more alarming than anything else.
Ears trained in that direction, Steve quietly steps closer towards the noise, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other like he's walking a tightrope.
Was it robbers?
No, robbers only break in to take your shit, not take a dip, he shook his head, feeling stupid he'd even considered it at all.
Speed running a list of possibilities in his mind, a slight shiver ran through him as he quietly hoped it wasn't another skunk that had wandered too close to the edge again, nearly gagging at the memory of how the scared, drenched animal had rewarded him for saving its life a few months back.
Peering out of the entry way, he reckoned he would have guessed a hundred other things before he ever would have guessed what he saw outside. Dropping his keys and jaw, he finds you wading in his pool. Unbothered and very much unclothed.
"Um...you're in my pool", he states as he steps out, dumbfounded.
"And you're..."
He doesn't say it. He wont, afraid that if he did, whatever's happening might suddenly stop. Hell, it felt far too good to be true, half expecting to bolt upright in bed at any second to find it'd been a dream all along, a tent in his plaid pajama bottoms waiting to greet him.
"I am" you confirm, knowing exactly what he'd meant to say, smiling devilishly.
With the pool lights on, your lack of swimwear is obvious against the blue tiles although the rippling water surface obscures your body enough to prevent him from getting a clear look at you no matter how much he squints in an attempt to focus.
"You sure know how to keep a girl waiting, Harrington", you chide, moonlight making your wet skin glitter like topaz.
"Huh?", Steve shakes his head, the jolt crackling up the length of his spine feeling far too real to be part of a dream. This is happening. This is really fucking happening, thunders and echoes inside his head, the realization making his palms turn clammy — the first time since his teens that a girl's elicited that kind of bodily reaction out of him.
"Got tired of waiting for you to nut up and make a move", you wade closer to the edge of the pool with all the allure of a siren approaching shore, the tops of your breasts showing above the surface.
"I want you, Steve", you beckon to him sweetly. Sincerely. "Come join me. It's lonely in here", you finish with a little pout.
He's never undressed quicker in his entire life — all of those nerves and doubts ironed out of him with that one simple confirmation.
You watch as his belt is unbuckled in a flurry, shirt following as it's tossed off to the side. It occurs to you then to offer him a modicum of privacy because it feels like the right thing to do, placing your hands over your eyes until he submerges himself into the water with you. But not before you submit to another urge, sneaking one quick peek between your fingers, your cheeks growing hot when you glimpse his half hard length dangling between his legs.
Covering your eyes again, you wait for him to join you, growing giddy when you feel him enter the water and wade closer to you.
You're met with that hopelessly moony smile of his when he gently pries your hands away from your face. "You always leave your clothes behind when you trespass or is this a new thing for you?", he asks, pearly teeth peeking out as his smile widens into a grin.
You laugh back, a little surprised that you'd gone through with it yourself. "Gonna beef up security around here if I keep it up?", you joked lightly, earning a chuckle from your neighbor.
"Fuck no. I'll even take down the fence so you don't have to hop it next time", he grinned harder, deviously handsome in the moonlight.
Your toes brush his as you wade a little closer, a shiver running through you despite the warmth of the water you're chest deep in. "It was between this or surprising you in your car", you told him, sharing the plan you'd concocted the night before. "You know— trench coat, hide in the backseat. Pretty classy stuff but then I thought about it a little more and realized it sounded kinda sketchy", you made a face, scrunching up your nose. "Didn't want you to think you were getting carjacked or something", you huffed another laugh.
Steve pales a little, laughing along nervously, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Hadn't even thought of that", he lied, glad he didn't rush out here swinging his bat like he would have had he not convinced himself otherwise about the robbers.
As the amusement tapers you focus your stare on the rise and fall of Steve's chest and the hair matted against it, pressing a hand there to feel his taught, wet skin.
There's a lull in your banter as his hands find your waist and your own starts to trail down, gliding over the plane of his soft stomach, fingers dipping underwater to skim the coarse trail of hair below his bellybutton.
Your touches are delicate for a start, fingers curling around Steve's erection as you feel him twitch in your palm, your thumb gently sweeping over the bump of a vein before trailing up to find his tip.
You meet his gaze when you glide the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, smooth and from what you can tell, sensitive from the way his breath stutters and his length flexes in your hand.
The waiting comes to an end then.
Steve leans in as quickly as you do, lips meeting yours, the scent of chlorine strong on your bodies, his chest pressing against your breasts. It's a dizzying minute of his tongue hungrily brushing against yours before he pulls you up by the underside of your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
Your body reacts quickly, crossing your ankles behind his back. His shaft nudges your clit from this angle and it makes you whine into his mouth, all needy from being deprived this kind of intimacy because of how he'd held back all those weeks.
He pulls away from the kiss to look as you, cupping your cheek with his hand.
"I know baby, I know. Made you wait for it too long didn't I? Don't worry I'm going to give it to you now, okay?", he coos, one part reassuring one part cocky.
Your core aches with anticipation when he says it, desire heavy and burning in your belly.
"Steve wait", you cut him off before his lips can come down on yours again.
"Yeah?"
"Could you— could you do it rough? that's how I want it", you tell him, digging your nails into his biceps. You're in no mood for anything soft or slow. Not right now. Not after waiting this long.
"Whatever you want— I'll give you anything you want", he promises, leaning in to kiss you again.
It doesn't take long for the swashing to recommence, building up to a loud, choppy splashing. Your back will carry evidence of how he has you pressed against the side of the pool tomorrow, arms wrapped around his neck as his tip meets your entrance and he works it inside, his length rutting into your soft core, punching out a chorus of moans and whimpers wrapped around his name.
Before he's completely lost to the warm, wet tightness of your walls wrapping around him, Steve only prays that none of his other neighbors care enough to peek over because if they did, things were bound to get awkward at the next block party.
"Promise me you w-won't go cold on me again", you beg when he locates that spot inside you, the head of his cock dragging over it just right.
"I promise", he answers, unclenching his jaw to nip at your bottom lip. "Promise me you'll go out with me after this? be my girlfriend?"
It nearly sends you reeling, being asked the question you'd been waiting to hear for weeks now as he's literally inside you, making your orgasm approach faster.
Smiling hard, you're still letting out little uh's and ah's because he doesn't let up his pace, driving his cock into you, all hard and fast just like how you wanted.
You couldn't wait to keep making up for all that time you spent doing anything that wasn't this, gasping out your answer.
"I promise"
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