#lee's writing

[transfaulkner]

🌹

this one will be more of my original wip!

The door to the smaller bedroom opens. Lukas turns around to see Victor, his hair loose around his shoulders and dressed in a nightshirt. He’s got a sort of vacant look in his eyes, and is heading for the little kitchen. 

“Having a rough night?” he asks. Victor doesn’t reply. He just crosses to the sink, starts scrubbing his wrists under the faucet.

lukas belongs to @cjsees !

[lesbobiwan]

could you do a smut fic with shaak ti please? i never see anything good with her and i’m literally inlove with her 😩

uh yeah absolutely u dont even need to ask anon. im a monster fucker first and a lesbian second. shaak ti checks off all my boxes

cw: afab reader, oral sex (reader receiving), biting, danger kink

Your back arches almost painfully as Shaak's wicked lips suck your clit into her mouth. Your hands shoot down to the tips of her montrals, using them to get leverage to grind your sopping cunt against her face.

She groans around your clit, eyes fluttering shut as your grip tightens around her montrals.

The vibrations of your groan has you crying out and tightening your grip even further, which in turn causes her to moan again around your sensitive clit. It's truly a vicious cycle with no winners (or two winners, depending on how you look at it) and you aren't surprised at all when your hands are yanked up and pinned to the mattress above your head by an unseen force.

Shaak drags her lips away from your core, trailing her lips up your inner thigh all the way to your knee before she pushes herself up to hover above you. "Your wandering hands will be the death of me, darling."

The very tips of her lekku sway and brush against your nipples as she straddles your hips.

Shaak's chest rumbles in a purr, a sound that never fails to make you smile with the knowledge the Togruta is pleased.

Your head drops back in a whimper. "Please, Shaak," you whine, straining against the invisible grip and grinding your hips up against the unyielding weight of her.

"Please, what?" her silky voice never fails to make you shiver, and it paired with her watchful eyes taking in your every move is just unfair. "You have to use your words."

"Bite me!"

The request startles Shaak.

It startles you. Not the fact that you wanted that but the fact that you actually voiced it.

You've wanted Shaak to bite you since you first started seeing her — the way she'd press her lips to your neck and the feeling of her teeth skim across the vulnerable flesh as she spoke into your skin wasn't enough for you.

You wanted to feel the sharp pain of skin breaking as even sharper teeth sank into your neck. You wanted Shaak to keep you pinned to the bed, just like this, and use one slender and ruinously talented to tilt your jaw up to expose your neck.

"You want me to bite you," Shaak repeats in something that sounds almost like awe. Her hands trail thoughtfully to your breasts, thumbing over the hard buds of your nipples as she mulls over your request.

Her mouth drops open and you watch with bated breath as her tongue swipes over her teeth, as if she's considering the logistics.

"Hm." One hand leaves your breasts to glide up to your neck, pressing fingers into the spot that Shaak must be considering biting. "Haven't you heard the rumor that Togrutas are venomous?"

She's teasing you now. You recognize the familiar lilt in her voice and the wicked gleam in her eye.

"Yes," you stammer weakly, pulse pounding beneath her fingers as she leans in closer.

"Yes?" she repeats and shifts until one of her thighs are pressing gloriously onto your cunt. "You do," Shaak whispers, pressing harder into your pussy.

You whimper and rut against her shamelessly, spreading your slick all over the hard line of muscle. "I do!" you wail, tilting your head back under her grip and exposing more of your neck, "Please, Shaak, I want you to. I trust you, I want you —"

"Shhh," Shaak leans down until her breasts are pressed flush with your own. The hand not closed around your neck, tilting it this way and that until Shaak finds an angle she likes, drifts down to toy at your entrance. "I'll give you what you want."

Two deft fingers slide into your cunt as her lips skim along your neck. Shaak passes over your carotid artery with a soft kiss before focusing on a spot along the curve of your neck, just above where your shoulder joins.

You tremble beneath her, quivering around her fingers and breathing shakily into the otherwise silent room.

The heel of Shaak's palm presses up to grind into your clit and then she bites.

"Ngh!"

The sharp burst of pain travels like electricity down your spine until it sinks into your cunt. You buck violently against her, wailing raggedly as you clench around the fingers that stroke inside you.

The invisible binds around your hands vanish and you immediately grab onto her lekku. You tilt your head as much as you're able to to press wet and sloppy kisses along the appendage.

You sob into one of them as Shaak eases a third finger into your cunt.

Shaak's jaw flexes around you and somehow her teeth dig in further.

A cum around her fingers with a shriek.

Tears drip down your cheeks and your fingers flex around her lekku, dragging groans out of Shaak that rumble against your skin.

She fucks you through your orgasm, fingers never ceasing and her palm actually presses harder against your clit.

Shaak releases your neck and you sob into the stifling room.

Your body trembles and convulses beneath her — you're a live wire of pleasure and it seems as though Shaak has no intentions of stopping.

Her fingers resume their previous pace, pressing viciously against the spot inside you that only she can find.

You cum again — did you ever stop? —, shattering into pieces around her and her teeth skim across your jugular as she shifts to the other side of your neck.

Shaak purrs and it racks through your chest where you're still pressed together. "Maybe a matching bite here," she murmurs into your skin, teeth pressing faintly into your skin as she speaks.

The hand not wrecking havoc on your pussy trails down your chest to circle around your right nipple.

"Maybe one here," Shaak muses.

Her hand presses into a bruise on your hip.

"Here?" Shaak hums like she isn't entirely sold on that spot. "Or maybe..."

It drifts further until it strokes the junction where your thigh meets your groan. You clench around her as she presses against the sensitive skin.

"Here?"

"Yes!" you cry out, bucking into her hand, "There! There! Bite me there!"

Shaak purrs louder, lips spreading into a smile where she kisses the chosen spot. "Insatiable," she whispers into the skin with just a hint of teeth.

She's taking too long.

You tug viciously at her back montral, digging your fingers in and squeezing until Shaak growls, sounding feral and dangerous and like she's yours, and sinks her teeth into the chosen spot.

You'll regret it in the morning when your neck is littered with bite marks and your hips ache enough to make walking a challenge.

For now you revel in the feeling of Shaak's teeth in your skin and her fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt.

[jasper-hale-protection-squad]

Love of My Life | Riley Biers x Vampire!Female!Reader

Prompt:  18. “I’m going to promote you to wife one day” with Riley x a vampire reader pleeeeaassseee :D I’m in dire need of fluff content for him

Warnings: nothing. Pure fluffy goodness

Ship(s): Riley x Reader

Vampires didn’t need beds, but they were certainly a great thing to have. They were great for cuddling, among other things. but cuddling was definitely your and Riley’s favorite thing to do on this bed. You hummed softly as Riley laid down beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck. Smiling brightly and turning to face your boyfriend, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. Riley kissed back eagerly, pulling you closer by the waist and tangling your legs together.

“Somebody missed me,” Riley teased, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he kissed your nose. You giggled softly, your own blood-red eyes lighting up. 

“Only a little,” you replied, nuzzling into Riley’s chest and sighing happily. “I’m glad you’re home. You're gone too often.” You said the last part with a whine, and you could feel the tremors in Riley’s chest and arms as he tried not to laugh. You hit him playfully but that just made it worse, and the vampire beside you could no longer contain his laughter. 

“Do you have any idea how adorable you are?” Riley said between fits of laughter. If you’d been human you would have blushed darkly. 

“Hey, no fair! You’re not allowed to make me flustered!” you replied indignantly, pouting and pulling away from Riley and folding your arms across your chest. Riley shifted closer to you again, pressing against your back and nuzzling into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?” Riley cooed into your ear. Shyly, you turned your head to see Riley looking at you all doe-eyed, his expression filled with adoration. You huffed and turned back towards him. 

“Fine. You’re forgiven.” Riley practically crushed you against him, but the soft, high pitched ‘yay!’ he emitted made your stone heart melt and a soft giggle escape your lips. You laid against his chest comfortably, closing your eyes and soaking in the way his arms felt around you. Riley stroked your (h/c) hair gently, pressing sweet kisses against your forehead and the top of your head occasionally, making you smile. You opened your eyes as Riley took your left hand in his, pressing kisses against your knuckles. 

“I’m going to promote you to wife one day,” Riley murmured, looking you in the eye as he held your hand against his chest, the joking light to his eyes gone, completely replaced by love and light, but serious gaze. You glanced at your intertwined hands before looking back up at Riley. You cupped his face with your free hand, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. 

“I can’t wait,” you whispered, resting your forehead against Riley’s. The vampire opened his eyes again, smiling at you before capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into the kiss, your hand going from Riley’s cheek to tangle in his hair as you deepened the kiss. 

“We’ll have eternity together, my love. You and me, side by side for the rest of time. It sounds like a dream,” Riley said when you parted, looking down at your hand again and smiling, trailing a finger up your ring finger, where your wedding ring would one day rest. Your eyes softened and you kissed Riley’s cheek. 

“Forever by your side will pass by in the blink of an eye.” 

[edmund-pevensie-just-king]

Writing Masterlist

Headcanons

Headcanon 1 

Oneshots

Not So Just King 

Liar Liar 

A Mere Colt

x Reader Fics 

Hugs (All) 

I Choose You (Edmund x Female Reader)

First Kiss (All Characters x Any Gender Reader) 

Hangover (Peter x Female Reader)

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Tag List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[la-la-imagine-studios]

Mianite s2 finale angst with tonja and syndisparklez?

Everyone else had already jumped in. It was just us four now, me, Tom, Sonja, and Tucker. And I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing.

We don’t want to fall again.

The last time we jumped willingly into a black void, unknowing to where it led or when it would end, we ended up falling for months. Months of clinging to each other for comfort. Months of that horrible feeling in our bodies, that feeling that closely resembled your heart pounding inside of your stomach hundreds of miles per hour without let up or a single stop. Months of wondering if we were gonna make it back onto solid ground again, or if we were eternally trapped in this void that doesn’t have an end.

I clutched Toms hand in a death grip at the memories of it. I can’t do it again. I don’t understand how we made it through the first time, but we won’t again if we fall just as long this time.

Tom squeezed back, fingers trembling with the same anxiety I was experiencing. “We have to,” he whispered to me. “If we want to go home, we have to.”

But there is no guarantee it will take us home. Gaines didn’t say where we going, he just told us we needed to jump or the world will crumble under us and we won’t live. It could take us anywhere or nowhere, and that terrifies me.

“But what if it goes somewhere else?” I heard Sonja say from beside me. “Somewhere that’s worse than here? What if there’s another Helgrind, or what if Botan follows us? What happens then?”

My blood felt as if it had turned to ice at the thought of seeing Botan again. He killed a god. He killed two gods, not even counting poor Ianite, who most likely died because of her fathers actions.

“Then we’ll get through it,” Tom answered with new found confidence, straightening his stance and tightening the grip on my hand. “We’ve gotten through enough evil ass villains, we can get through more. We’ll be fine.”

I took a first glance at Tucker and Sonja since we’d reached the portal. They were holding hands too, but neither of them looked like I felt. Hopeless and scared. They looked angry almost. Angry that we have to jump and survive through another void. I felt a little angry too. Haven’t we been through enough? Why do we always have to be the brave ones, why can’t we ever just get a break?

And then I had some hope.

“Maybe it’ll lead someplace…where we don’t have to be heroes anymore.”

Silence. It gave me a little time to think about my hope. What if it’s a plain green pasture, someplace where we can start anew and maybe even…have families. Grow old and die in peace, die calm deaths instead of violent, blood curdling ones. I’d like to live in a place where I can die in peace with Tom and my possible children by my side. Maybe with a new environment and the combined powers of Wag and the wizards, that dream could come true.

“I’d be alright with a place like that,” Tucker agreed. Sonja nodded at me in agreement. Tom squeezed my hand again. Yeah. Maybe this will be the place that ends our heroism, the place where we raise our children and build our homes and form another community. A good community that isn’t centered around gods and religion. A community we can live out the rest of our lives in.

I felt Tom’s lips kiss my temple. “Let’s do it. One last time, hopefully.”

Letting out a slow, steady breath, I grasped Sonja’s outstretched hand and stepped forward a little. I don’t wanna do this. I don’t wanna do this, not the least bit. But if I don’t, they won’t either. And I don’t want them to die with me. It’s either death or uncertainty. Uncertainty is better, I suppose.

“On three,” Tucker called down. I took another deep breath in and stepped in line with them.

“One.”

Botan could follow us, but that okay. We beat him once and I’m sure we can beat him again.

“Two.”

I’ll always have Tom with me. He won’t let go of me. I won’t be alone as long as he’s here.

“Three!”

There was only one thing that pushed me to jump with them. That one shred of hope.

This could lead us to something good.~~~

- Lee

[studiointerrobang]

What I do when I’m stuck when I’m writing.

I may be comparatively new to writing, but I started off with an innate lack of patience for delays, and a hard-won appreciation for the ability to manipulate my own level of motivation. Often, when it seems like my book doesn’t want to cooperate with me, my motivation starts to flag, which of course makes writing my way out of whatever the issue is much harder. So, I’ve accumulated several tricks to re-engage me with the story while getting those creative juices flowing.

1. Coming from visual arts, my first thought it usually to do some sketching. This helps me focs on the characters, who I’m already attached to, and who I’ve usually left sitting in a bad spot. May not work for everyone, but it often works for me.

2. Sometimes, of course, the creative juices aren’t flowing at ALL and drawing isn’t going any better than writing. In that case, I resort to visual hoarding. I troll around Pinterest, looking for things that my characters would like, that would be emblematic of them, the world they live in, and the lives they’ve lived so far. Often, I stumble across something new about the character in the process- I hadn’t realized they were so drawn to bright colors, for example. Then I arrange these on a mood board, which helps me visually shorthand a lot about that character. Again, it’s my affection for the chracter that keeps me plugged in to the story.

3. I’m not so much into spotify, but most of my main characters have inspired Pandora stations for me. Sometimes I can’t listen to them while writing- it’s often hard for me to write with lyrics playing, but I might, for example, listen to that station on the way home when I’m planning to write after work.

4. The newest method I got from my pall Pip, who loaned me a great big book of astrology/numerology, with in-depth discussions of the traits of people born on each day of the year. I’m pretty skeptical for someone as utterly Leo as I am, but when it comes to fiction, I can let imagination rule over reason. I’ve picked out birthdates for a ton of characters. Going page by page comparing the information presented to my priorities for the character makes me think about that character and their most dominant traits in a structured way, which helps me focus in on what I’ve written nd where it is or isn’t internally consistent.

5. Sometimes I take the characters who are failing to spark in the scene, and i pull them out of that scene and lock them in a laundromat together. Just the two or three of the, in the middle of the night. Good luck avoiding each other now, you fictional assholes. I just gave you 6 loads of laundry to do and one of them is a mattress cover! It’ll be in the dryer forever!. Then I find excuses to ramp up the emotion to 11, and really dig into all the ways those characters can get under each others skin. If character 1 can say either A or B, and B is going to strike a serious nerve with character 2, then I choose B. Every time. I don’t allow them to de-escalate the situation. The scene doesn’t actually get included in even the first draft, but it’s a good way to get at the emotional heart of their communication. Then I pick out highlights to bring back into the story.

6. The best artistic advice I ever got was from my high school painting teacher. When I’d get daunted by that big white canvas, he’s always tell me “get something down to correct.”. Those who follow me on twitter will be familiar with my habit of declaring “time to write some garbage!”. The idea here is that I hold on to my faith that whatever mess I make, I can clean it up later, and just start throwing words on the page. A lot of the time it’s 90% junk, but it gets me unstuck. Once I have a couple scenes after the worst of it written, usually I have a better feel for where I needed that scene to go, and I can edit or even re-write it much more easily that if I had just tried to force my way into proper writing at that time.

7. Often, I talk to someone. I feel like this is spectacularly common advice, but for me, it works. My wife has agreed that listening to me whine about uncooperative fictional teenagers is one of her marital duties, especially since she was one of those dirty enablers that got me writing in the first place. But, sometimes I have resorted to buying pie for people to get them to sit and let me blather at them.

8. One thing I usually need to do is figure out if my current stall is a byproduct of a larger structural issue. Are you having a hard time because you didn’t plan enough conflict in this chapter? Did you not build the relationship to where it needs to be before this scene? I like to write out an outline of the offending chapter, plus 1 or 2 on either side of it, and then make web-like charts of what’s going on with the scenes and the information. Often, that jars something in my head, some exciting new connection I hadn’t seen before. That is usually enough to give me afresh angle and a fresh start.

9. Words in words out. When I really run out of things to say, I read. Something with some connection to what i’m writing is best- some similar POV, or voice, interpersonal dynamics or genre or themes, but just...words in. I imagine that I’m filling back up my word tank. It also lets me take a break without feeling like I’m totally walking away from the project.

10. Reconnect with my message. In the case of my current project, my message has a lot to do with the gross systemic issues in the US criminal justice system, so the news is always feeding me a never-ending stream of motivation in the form of anger that I have to put down someplace. BUT, even if you’re not writing an “issue” book, it’s good to know what it is you’re saying. It doesn’t have to be deep or revolutionary- a lot of amazing media makes simple statements about feelings and experiences that many people can empathize with. But know what feeling and thought you want to convey. If you believe in that, then getting into contact with that can be a big help.

[transfaulkner]

🌹

this one i'll answer with my original one!

Adelmo is twenty-two when he marries his husband, Victor. He is twenty-three when things first seem wrong in their marriage. 

[lesbobiwan]

Would you consider [70] with commander fox and senator!reader? Any gender/pronouns are fine! Thank you!

YES PLEASE THIS ONE! god tier pic anon thank u so much

#70: "It's too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with your dick in my mouth." + Fox

Your elaborate dress is itchy.

Well, no. Not really.

The dress is too expensive to be itchy. Rather, it's the lace underneath your dress that refuses to be ignored. It's not scratchy so much as tempting.

With every shift of your body, you're reminded — as if you ever forgot — about the dark red lingerie wrapped around your body.

Your gaze flits to the commander standing at a perfect parade rest across from the room.

His helmet is trained straight ahead, conveniently where you sit at the table full of Senators. His head dips, unnoticeable to anyone not watching.

Not you. You find that you're always watching Commander Fox.

You enjoy these Senatorial meetings — not a full convening of the Senate, thank the Maker, but close enough — about as much as Fox does, which is to say not at all.

So it goes without saying that you are in desperate need to spice things up.

You start innocently.

The way the Senators are seated ensures that Fox has a direct line of sight to you and you intend to use that to your full advantage.

You uncross your legs.

Fox tilts his head just barely.

One of your hands strays beneath that table, the perfect picture of subtlety, and you pull at the high slit in your dress until your garter belt is bared for Fox's eyes.

His hands clench at his sides.

You can almost picture the way his eyebrow is raised in challenge.

You skate your fingers along the lace until you reach your inner thigh. You can feel the heat from your pussy.

"Please excuse me," you clear your throat in your best impression of being parched, "I'm just going to get some water."

You smile politely, and the bickering Senators pay you no mind as you walk around the table to where the water fountain is stationed. Right next to Commander Fox, not that that means anything.

No one is watching. They're all too self-absorbed in their own egos and need to be right all the time.

"You know," you drop your voice, standing next to Fox and facing the other way as if you're filling up one of the cups, "It's too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with your dick in my mouth."

Fox's head snaps to face you.

You stare into the emotionless visor, lips quirked up at just the thought of Fox's face underneath that bucket of his.

"I'm terribly sorry, Senator," Fox says, projecting his voice to be heard over the bickering (not that it matters any), "but I've just gotten word of a situation that needs your attention."

You hum in response to hold off the grin that threatens to overtake your face. "How sudden," you remark, "by all means, we should see to it."

Fox guides you out of the room with a hand on the small of your back that's less than professional.

You're pulled into a broom closet where there is distinctly no situation that needs your attention.

Fox rips his helmet off with no finesse and lets it clatter to the ground.

You duck his attempt at pulling you in for a kiss, instead folding onto your knees, fancy dress be damned.

"Cyare, what are you —"

Your hands unclasp his cod piece, setting it down beside you. "I said if no one was watching, I'd be on my knees," you gesture down at your position, "with your dick in my mouth," you gesture at the erection straining Fox's blacks. "Do you see anyone in here with us?"

Fox huffs in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You grin up at him, pleased as punch as one of his hands caress your cheek, "You like it."

"I'd like it a lot more if you put your pretty lips around my cock."

You inhale sharply, thighs pressing tightly together. Your hands dutifully pull Fox's half hard cock from his pants.

Fox groans, thighs flexing as the cold air hits his cock. One of his hands fists tightly in your intricately pinned hair, and the first tug against your scalp has you keening into the empty storage closet.

"C'mon, pretty thing, put that mouth to good use."

He doesn't sound as commanding as you think he'd like to. He sounds desperate.

You press a soft kiss to the head of his weeping cock, right on his leaking slit, and lick the salty taste from your lips.

Fox's head drops back against the shelving unit behind him, rattling the disinfectant cans there. His hand tightens in your hair.

You have to open your mouth wide to the point of aching to fit him in your mouth.

He's just so thick.

Dedicating yourself in this moment to swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, paying special attention to the ridge of his head.

A tug at your hair has you taking more of his dick down your throat until you start to spasm around him, fighting back your gags.

You lose yourself in the stretch, in the taste. In the groan that reverberates through the room and resonates between your thighs.

You don't stop until your nose is pressed into the hairs at the base of his cock.

"Shit, you feel so good," Fox gasps, thunking his head against the shelving unit again. One of the cans falls, clattering to the ground with a noise that's too loud to be hidden by these thin walls.

"Fuck, your mouth is heaven, sweet thing,"

"You take me so well, baby. Like you were made to suck my cock."

"'m gonna cum,"

Fox babbles, like he always does when you need to be quiet. It's such a wild 180 from his normal bedroom persona — Fox is all rough words and rougher snaps of his hips when he's the one in charge.

Like this, though? Like this, Fox is at your mercy and he knows it.

You pull back until it's just the head of his cock in your mouth again, and both of your hands wrap around his shaft, stroking and twisting just how he likes as you suck on his tip.

His cock is practically drooling in your mouth, almost as wet as you are in your pretty panties.

You drag the edge of your nail along the vein on the underside of his cock and Fox whines as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow three times, twice to ensure you swallow all his cum and once just to see Fox squirm.

He tugs at your hair to get you off now, trembling in oversensitivity, and you show mercy with a soft kiss to his softening cock before sitting back on your heels, looking up at the commander through your eyelashes.

Your face is red, eyes watery and you know there's drool on your chin, but Fox drags you to your feet to kiss you like you're the most gorgeous sight on this side of the galaxy.

"Fuck," Fox hisses between kisses, "You're amazing, you know that?"

His hands grasp and fumble at the slit of your dress, gloved hands searching for the lace wrapped around your hips.

"Are you going to return the favor, Commander?" you ask, trailing biting kisses down his neck until you meet his plastoid armor.

Fox laughs against your skin, deft fingers hooking into your panties to stroke along your soaked slit.

"I'm about to do more than just that, sweet thing."

[transfaulkner]

🌹

no specifics on this one so i'm gonna answer with my fandom wip!

“The past few days,” Goemon repeated, “have been… weird.”

“Of course they’ve been weird, we almost got caught three days in a row! We’re losing our touch, guys, come on, can’t you see it?”

“That’s not what’s been happening.” Fujiko, her head in her hands, finally looked up. “Haven’t you noticed? We’ve been in the same hotel room every single morning, even when that isn’t where we went to sleep. And last night, I stayed up, trying to work on our game plan for the jar…” She shook her head. “I wasn’t in bed. I was sitting at the desk. But then, sometime in the middle of the night, I just—I appeared in my bed. I don’t remember how I got there, or going to sleep at all, and I don’t feel rested. It’s like—”

“Like yesterday never happened, and we’re starting again,” Goemon finished. “Right?”