Fanfic writers, if you’re going to write a dom!reader fic, whether it’s pegging or whatever you’re into, can you please not mention at least seventeen times how much the character is usually the dom. Plz.
Im trynna peg some subby boys and live my life as a domme and then I see “He’s always the dom.” “After a lot of begging he decided to allow you to...” 😐
And please all writers in general, TAG YOUR SHIT PROPERLY
WHO’S THE DOM??? WHO’S THE SUB?? IS THE READER A SWITCH?? PLZ SPECIFY WHEN YOURE GOING TO MAKE THE READER A SWITCH.
There is nothing more annoying than that turn at the end of towards the middle of a fic thats specifically tagged as DOM!READER with the character talking about “now it’s your turn for a punishment.” MOTHERFUCKER- 🤬
you don’t know what time it is, but it’s still dark out. charlie’s arm is draped over your side, hand balled up against your thigh, forehead resting against the top of your back. he’s close, but not close enough. not for the night. it’s when most of your fears tend to creep to the forefront of your mind - faces in the wallpaper, whispers riding the distant roar of city traffic, blood oozing through the gaps in the wooden floors.
“are you asleep?” you ask out into the dark, voice quivering, knowing that the answer is ‘yes’ but hoping desperately that it won’t be. charlie shuffles behind you, his arm pulling tight against your chest. you grip his hand with both of yours, eyes welling with relief. you try to pretend that you hadn’t been panicking, but you don’t know why. this isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.
“no,” he lies, groggily, pulling you back against him. you bend your knees to slide your cold feet between his shins and he groans. “you’re cold.”
“you’re warm.” you used to joke that you kept him around so you didn’t have to buy a hot water bottle. then he got you one for your birthday and you were forced to admit that wasn’t the real reason you shared your bed with him at all – it’s more to do with the fact that you just want him there. you sort of need him there. you are, as it turns out, in love with him being there. in love with him.
“love you.” he mumbles into your shoulder, and you feel his breathing slowing back down as he starts to drift back off to sleep, still all tangled up with you. you copy him, chest rising and falling in time with his until you can’t tell if you’re awake or not, too.
atticus + kisses as a promise bc those snippets you shared on patreon destroyed me and I'd love more
hahaha thank you i'm glad you enjoyed them!! i am having a lot of fun writing atticus atm so have some more xoxo
kisses as a promise + atticus
you stand in the kitchen where you are supposed to be paying very close attention to the microwave (lest you have another burned popcorn incident in atticus’ flat), but you’ve been pretty distracted watching him lounging on the sofa. atticus gets one side, you get the other, and your heads meet in the corner - it’s a solid system honed over many movie nights. you can’t actually remember how long it’s been now. you’d have to count the months back in your mind.
“you’ll tell me if i ever get annoying, right?” you ask.
“you’re annoying,” he calls back to you, without diverting his gaze from the screen. you huff, and he reluctantly props himself up on one elbow to look back at you.
“i’m being serious!”
atticus rolls his eyes and gets to his feet like he has just been asked to perform a very tedious chore, looping around the sofa to join you. you’d started pacing, but he plants his hands firmly on your shoulders to put a stop to that.
“you can’t get annoying. you’ve always been annoying.” he tells you, but he looks at you in a way you aren’t sure you’ve noticed before as he says it. then he cups your face in both hands and kisses you firmly, the kind that makes you feel like you’re featherlight and drifting away. he kisses you like he sees you – knows who you are and wants you all the same, will keep wanting you.
when you break apart, his blue eyes meet yours steadily, brows knitted together in a little frown. you aren’t sure what he sees – but then he kisses you again, and this one’s different. it’s soft and gentle, quizzical even. he sees you. do you see him?
you don’t have time to answer before you are hit with the acrid smell of burning popcorn and the microwave beeping. you reckon there’s about 20 seconds til the fire alarm goes off. fuck it, that’s plenty of time to steal another kiss.
i want to give a pretty boy a handjob, and tell him at the beginning that he can’t come. he can fuck his hips up into my hand, play with himself, do anything he likes, except come. so when the time comes that my baby’s really, really on the edge, he has to beg me to stop so he won’t get punished for going over the edge. he has to tell me to stop playing with his pretty little dick, because he’s so so so close and he doesn’t want to get in any trouble. i want a boy that puts my wishes over his bodily pleasure. and then! hours later when i’ve edged him to the point of crying and begging, i’ll let him come. and then make him come again and again. until he’s begging me to please please stop, because he can’t take anymore. and then, we’ll take a nice warm shower and curl up in bed and cuddle all night long.
pretty subs who are scared to touch you anywhere because they've never touched anybody like this so you just take their pretty hands and place them on your thighs, your ass and your tits. by the time you're grinding against them they're a whiny mess, shamelessly groping every bit of your body they can get their hands on
there's just something so cute about boys who get flustered easily like oh goodness you can't look into my eyes because i called you pretty? how are you gonna look at me when i fuck you then?
