#a snippet from an upcoming fic

[munsonkitten]

Eddie doesn’t know how this became a thing between them. He’s wrapped up around Steve’s back, arms and legs snaking around Steve’s body. He has one thigh between Steve’s, hooked over his hip and snug against his crotch. He can feel the soft bulge of Steve’s cock beneath his leg, and tries not to think too hard about it. 

One of Steve’s arms is tucked under Eddie in a way that makes it possible for him to scratch at Eddie’s hair through his hood. His fingers move rhythmically, sliding over the fabric covering Eddie's head. 

It’s cozy like this, tangled in a way where Eddie can't tell where he ends and Steve begins. It's not something friends do, especially not two guys, but neither one of them mention that.

Sometimes they just lay and talk, and sometimes, like today, they have a book in front of them, positioned in the hand Eddie has snaked beneath Steve’s neck. 

Eddie’s reading, soft and quiet into Steve’s ear, when it happens. Steve turns his head back and presses a kiss to Eddie’s chin. A quick little peck beneath his mouth. 

The words die in Eddie’s throat, choked off by a squeaky noise of surprise. He drops the book onto the bed, letting it fall shut because saving the page he’s on is the last thing on his mind right now. Steve just kissed him. A little kiss, not even on his lips, but still a kiss. From Steve. 

They’re both frozen there, so still Eddie doesn’t think either of them are even breathing, and then Steve’s disentangling himself, pulling away. The exact opposite of what Eddie wants to happen. 

He finds the front of Steve’s shirt clutched in his fist, holding him where he is. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Steve says, still attempting to pull away. “We’re friends — I don’t know what got into me, man. I didn’t mean to do that.”

One hand curls around his wrist, the other going to his fingers to try peeling them away from Steve’s shirt. Eddie closes his fist tighter, shaking his head. 

“Yes, you should have,” Eddie whispers, voice caught in his throat. “Done that, I mean.”

Eddie’s been kissed before. At bars and parties, by guys and girls alike, liquor on their lips or laughter on their tongues. The girls at parties in town were always dared — kiss the freak, see if he puts out (Eddie never did) — and the guys in bars were always drunk and too impersonal. It never went further than that, never felt quite right, especially not with the girls, but he’s been kissed before. 

None of that could have prepared him for the way Steve Harrington kisses him now.

[linddzz]

Y'all like my Dream being an Eldritch Weirdo as much as a sexy Eldritch Horror so here's more assurance of the petty supernatural weirdo energy increasing through Audacity in Human Form:

----

[velidewrites]

The foreign prince had very little intention of leaving, it seemed, taking yet another step to close the distance between them. His wine glass swayed with the movement, the crimson liquid threatening to spill onto his immaculate green jacket and her gown. Elain could not afford such a scandal, not in the middle of the dance floor—not with another prince nearby, one who she’d much rather be having this conversation with.

She must have imagined it a hundred times as she laid in bed last night, all the possible scenarios that could occur during the ball but shouldn’t spinning through her head. It was a dangerous path her mind kept leading her on, but in the silent darkness of her room and her hand buried between her legs, she couldn’t bring herself to care. And so, she wondered—wondered what it would feel like to have Lucien’s large hand on her waist, leading her steadily while the guests gathered around, watching and not caring about her status a single bit. His russet gaze locked on hers, glittering the same way it had that night she found him in the gardens. His mouth, full and curled into his signature sly smirk, leaning down to brush against her neck. To tease.

The image vanished instantly as another set of lips pressed to the back of her palm, and Elain sucked in a sharp breath. No doubt mistaking her reaction for excitement, Prince Tamlin smiled at her, those white, immaculate teeth nearly polished to perfection—and yet she couldn’t help but feel repulsed at the sight. It took every ounce of restraint in her body not to yank her hand away from his grasp—to offer a small smile in return before retreating, preferably back to the comfort of her chambers, where she could keep her treacherous visions alive.

She had enough of this ball.

But then Tamlin squeezed a little harder, forcing Elain into place. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing on the dance floor all by yourself?” he asked, emerald eyes shining. Elain recognised that look all too well—had seen it sweep over her body too many times to count.

Hunger.

She stiffened. “I was just about to leave. Your Highness,” she quickly added, her small curtsy masking the grimace that momentarily twisted her face.

“A woman of such beauty,” the prince mused as if she hadn’t said anything at all. “You’re not from this kingdom, are you? I would’ve remembered you, to be sure.”

Elain pressed her lips into a thin line. “No, my lord.”

A low hum. “A nobleman’s daughter, then?” he questioned.

“A handmaiden,” Elain said tightly, using his brief glimmer of surprise to free her hand from his at last. “To Princess Vassa.”

Tamlin’s eyes flashed with delight.

[kuwdora]

Snippet Sunday tagged by @witch-and-her-witcher at some point. I have like 30 WIPs but I'm only allowing myself to work on 5 WIPs this month so I can finish stuff. Theoretically. This is a post-book/game canon Ciri thing that is ultimately inspired by @andordean's Blood Ties because that story is still eating my brain. Nevermind I've never managed to finish my other Ciri fic and I've never written Regis before... but hey, there's a first time for everything. Right?

“Are there any memories in particular that have disturbed you of late?” Regis asks. Ciri shrugs and swirls the remaining wine in her cup. She refills it and nudges the folio towards him. “What’s this?” he asks, carefully pulling the folio into his lap but not opening it. “Memories. Or the promise of them, at least,” Ciri says. “Oh?” Regis asks and turns the folio over. Deliberately not opening it. Ciri props her chin on her shoulder and stares at him, wishing she was a little more drunk, but maybe that was just the grief talking. Regis looks up and meets her gaze, politely looking past her thoughts in that vampire way he could do without reading them. He wouldn’t let himself read her mind. Not unless she asked. She should ask. It would be easier than pirouetting around the pain. But whatever titles she now held, she was still Ciri of Vengerberg who always took action, whether it was wrong or right. She was the daughter of Geralt of Rivia, and a witcheress from the School of the Wolf. She understood how to use her accumulated knowledge to assess a situation and attack. It would be better if she got this feeling off her chest herself.

[blot-squisher]

Jude hopped up onto Danny’s back, meowing loudly. Holding a finger up to his lips, Marcus quickly shushed her, scolding quietly, “Ma’am, that is not how we behave when people are sleeping.” The cat gave him a judgemental ‘murp’ before starting to aggressively knead all four of her paws into Danny’s shirtless back

[pebblish]

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

Vaderluke ABO snippet under the cutoff, don't read if you don't like that sort of thing!

Vader waited a moment after Leia disappeared from view, watching her dark head descend the stairs, before brushing a hand through his curls, exhaling deeply. He moved toward Luke’s door, pausing briefly. He raised a hand and knocked firmly, heart brimming with anticipation. 

The angel who answered was straight out of Vader’s fantasies. Luke’s hair was undone, spilling over his shoulders in a golden river. He was dressed only in his shift, and blushed delightfully all the way down to his neck. Vader wondered idly if his skin heated as it turned pink- something he’d have to investigate later. 

“Duke Vader! My goodness, I didn’t know to expect you.” Luke’s adorable stammering had Vader smiling against his control, taken in by the creature before him. 

Luke looked over his shoulder, flinging around some of his hair in the process and unleashing his absolutely delicious scent into the air in the process. When it wafted to Vader’s nose, he felt his gums itch and fangs tingle to sink into sinfully soft, golden flesh. Luke stepped aside and gestured for Vader to enter, which Vader did, dipping his head in silent thanks as he stepped over the threshold, and had to hold in a groan at being walloped with Luke’s scent permeating the room. As Luke busied himself by throwing on a pearlescent silver robe over his shift, one that was dotted with pearls sewn into the velvet, Vader adjusted his pants, pressing the heel of his palm over his hardening cock. He couldn’t lose his head yet, and scare the boy away. He had already seen how skittish Luke was, how he needed to be handled delicately. 

Luke situated himself on a low purple divan, and crossed his ankles politely. He smiled at Vader and extended one slender wrist to point towards the opposite armchair. 

“Please sit, Your Grace. I apologize for the state of affairs… I didn’t expect company today, and finished my heat recently. That’s actually why I have the windows open, so it’s not as…” Luke waved a hand airily, pinking even more at the confession. 

“Fragrant, in here. I hope you can forgive the untidiness.”

[sp1rit-realm]

But time froze when he looked at you, and your heart smiled when he talked. How could you not fall in love with Remus Lupin?

[halohamilton]

.

[munsonkitten]

Snippet from the upcoming chapter of You Make Me Feel Like I am Whole Again

Eddie doesn’t remember falling asleep. Just remembers laying in Steve’s arms as sobs wracked through his body, shaking his heavy shoulders and rattling his aching heart. 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up, he’s pressed along the length of Steve’s back. At some point in the night, Steve tugged off Eddie’s jeans, and Eddie vaguely remembers that, waking up to gentle hands trying to make him more comfortable before falling asleep again without a second thought. 

It’s still early, Steve’s still asleep. The light through his blinds isn’t bright, right in that little window of time before the sun is fully up, but it’s not down, either. Eddie likes this time of morning. Wayne won’t be home yet, the trailer park hasn’t yet woken up for their days. 

Quiet, peaceful. 

He wants it to last, here in this moment with Steve in his arms. 

He presses a soft kiss to the moles dotting Steve’s shoulder, lifts a hand to brush the hair away from Steve’s neck. His hair is getting longer, growing in a way that really suits him, but not too long that it gets in Eddie’s mouth when they lay like this. 

A quiet moan vibrates through Steve’s throat as Eddie presses his lips to his neck.

He smiles, parts his lips so he can latch onto a spot on Steve’s jaw, lifting up on one elbow so he can reach better. He sucks gently, moves down to Steve’s neck where he leaves the beginnings of a mark before moving on. 

“Ed?” 

“Morning, baby,” Eddie whispers, pressing a soft kiss to slack lips. 

Steve smiles into the kiss, lifts his hand and runs it through Eddie’s hair, cups his neck. He rolls over onto his back and pulls Eddie down by the back of his neck, waking up slowly as they kiss. 

“Morning,” Steve whispers. “Better stop, though.”

Eddie hums in thought. “Why’s that?”

“Baby, I’m so hard right now,” Steve says sleepily. “Must’ve been dreaming about you.”

His eyes slip shut and he smiles as if he’s thinking about it. 

“Oh yeah, baby?” Eddie teases. “Can I touch you?”

“Don’t wanna — hm, don’t want you to think that’s all we do,” Steve mumbles. He moans, lifts his hips up against the heavy blanket covering him. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers. He doesn’t even know why he said that last night. He’s just getting insecure, he thinks, and it’s stupid. Of course he and Steve do other stuff. Hell, their arrangement started weeks ago, and they’ve only had sex a handful of times. And now he wants Steve, soft and sleepy, nestled in the early morning peace. 

“Yeah?” Steve asks, eyes blinking open again. 

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. He presses another kiss to Steve’s jaw. “We’ve got some time before Wayne gets home, and neither of us have to be anywhere for hours, right?”

Steve hums in response, a slight nod. 

“Gonna need you a little more awake,” Eddie whispers to him. 

“Yeah, I’m… I’m awake.”

“What do you want, baby? Wanna fuck me?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Yeah, I do. Can I?”

Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth and takes Steve’s hand in his own. He rolls onto his back and guides Steve’s hand down to cup him through his boxers. Steve palms him through the fabric, rubbing his hand over Eddie’s dick.

He needs something, needs Steve to take him apart and put him back together in a different configuration. Something that feels better, something that takes his fears about them and buries them deep. He needs… He needs Steve to love him. He needs to not have to ask for what he wants. 

“Can you, uh,” Eddie whispers. He’s felt so unlike himself the last few days, he just wants something simple. Something he doesn’t have to think about. Summoning his bravery, he chokes out,  “Want you to take care of me.”

“Always,” Steve breathes, pressing his lips to Eddie’s jaw. “I’ll always take care of you, Eddie.”

The words feel like an admission and a declaration, something that worms its way into Eddie’s heart and warms it. Steve cups his cheeks, a soft smile on his face.

Snippet from the upcoming chapter of You Make Me Feel Like I am Whole Again

[aeoneri]

I've been suffering from severe writer's block that I haven't been able to complete any of my wips, or even rewrite a fic.

I know this is only temporary, but I'm honestly struggling with beginning any story. I think I'll read some books this week, get inspiration from my favorite writers and hope for the best.

If there's any consolation, I can at least write draft snippets of my stories: please enjoy a short preview of "Till Death Do Us Part", the final one-shot for "What We Don't See"!

--

"For someone so superstitious, I didn't expect you to break the biggest one." Gabriela whispers, keeping her eyes closed. "Isn't it bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the night before their wedding?"

"They say it is but I wanted to see you," Bruno murmurs. "I couldn't sleep."

"Because of the nerves?"

"A little, but mostly because I was thinking about you."

--

[wikiangela]

not sure how long this is gonna take to write (bc I have no idea what exactly is the plan here haha) but I'm kinda excited for this one so I just need to share a snippet of what's supposed to be 6x13 horny-ish post-poker-date silliness haha

“So, a purely hypothetical question.” Eddie says, keeping his tone light, as his eyes scan Buck’s face intently, seeing the blush on his cheeks deepening, and a dazed smile stretching his lips. 

“Shoot.” Buck responds, his fingers gripping Eddie’s hips tightening just a little bit, just enough to remind Eddie that they’re there – as if he needs reminding, even Buck’s lightest touch through layers of clothes feels like fire right now. 

“What would you say,” Eddie brings one of his hands to Buck’s face, traces his jaw, feather-light, barely there touch, and hears Buck take a shaky breath, eyes wide with something like awe not leaving Eddie’s face, “if I wanted to kiss you? Just hypothetically.” Eddie reminds, his tone half-teasing, giving them an out if they need it. He can always blame it on the alcohol and pretend that suddenly he’s such a lightweight, one beer is enough to get him wasted. He knows Buck would go along with it, even if he knew Eddie’s full of shit.

“Hypothetically?” Buck’s smile turns into a smirk, as he licks his lips, understanding flashing through his eyes, and his hands settle on Eddie a little firmer now, as if all he needed was this little confirmation that this is really what’s happening, that he’s not reading this wrong – as if misinterpreting this was even possible, with Eddie invading his personal space like this, doing everything in his power not to just roll his hips into Buck’s.

[joelsgreys]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

[peachdues]

another snippet from my upcoming Levi x Reader fic, Coalescence, a secret pregnancy AU first teased here.

Pregnant.

How the fuck could you be pregnant?

Levi’s mouth twisted down in a grimace. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know exactly how a woman came to be with child — in fact, he’d wager that he was incredibly well-versed in such activities.

Especially when it came to you.

The how in practice wasn’t what concerned him; it was the how in theory, that he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

You’d had an implant put in a year prior, right after the two of you had given into the raging desire that had been steadily mounting between you, finally boiling over after a heated exchange over your future with the Scouts.

The night in question had started with Levi in your face, berating you about duty and wasted potential. The Captain had been uncharacteristically flustered as you’d stared him down, hotly reminding him that he would have to drag you, kicking and screaming to the Commander’s office, pistol to your head, before you’d accept a position as squad leader.

It ended with you spread out on his desk, Levi’s face between your thighs, followed by his cock, as he’d pressed you into the wood and fucked every last pent up emotion he’d ever felt right into your pliant, heavenly body.

The way you’d whimpered his name, the way you’d tugged at the inky strands of his hair as he’d pounded into you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise, had made him see white. It pained him to have to silence your whines, which had grown in vibrato the closer you came to your climax, by sliding two fingers into your mouth.

Whatever disappointment he’d felt had been fleeting however, as you’d moaned, tongue swirling around his digits as you’d watched him through half-lidded eyes.

It was then that Levi knew he was a goner.

—-

You’d marched into his barracks not two days later, a fire in your eyes as you pinned him with a heated stare and told him you’d had an implant put into your arm, meant to keep any accidents from happening.

Levi hadn’t asked any further questions; not as he’d crossed the floor of his office and began tugging the straps of your ODM gear away from your body.

But that implant, however, apparently hadn’t been worth shit, because now, you were pregnant.

Pregnant, with his child.

And now, you were lying in an infirmary bed, unconscious and bloodied, because you’d been injured as you’d fought to defend Trost from the onslaught of Titans that slipped through the hole in Wall Rose.

While pregnant. With his baby.

Provided Levi could hold onto whatever vestiges of his sanity remained until you awoke, he was going to kick your ass.

[askgametime]

ask game for teasing wips/upcoming projects

Send an emoji and I'll answer!

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing... ❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing. 🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP. 🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP. 🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP. 💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen. 🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP. ☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it? 🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags.

[vinelark]

really excited to share this preview snippet from my fic in the upcoming @timdrakeflipzine!! along with a preview of the spot art by the one and only @mammutblog 💪⚔️✨🌋🦴

[kazoosandfannypacks]

ao3 writers wrapped ask game!

made this ask game for fic writers! feel free to send me some asks, and reblog if you'd like your followers to send you some asks too!

1. How many words did you post this past year?

2. How many fics did you post this past year?

3. How many fandoms/pairings did you write for this past year?

4. How many published works are you leaving unfinished going into the new year?

5. What fic surprised you with how much interaction it got this past year?

6. What fic surprised you with how little interaction it got this past year?

7. Share a line/paragraph/snippet that you were especially proud of from a work this year!

8. What's your favorite work you posted this past year?

9. What are you most proud of accomplishing in your writing goals this past year?

10. What are your writing goals for the upcoming year?

11. Do you have playlists for any of your fics/wips?

12. What inspired [work posted this past year?]

13. What fic are you most excited to post in the upcoming year?

14. Give us a sneak peek of one of your upcoming works!

15. [Freebie! Ask any question!]