Post a snippet from your most recent WIP and tag seven other writers!
Thank you for the tag 🏷️ @greyheadedjaco :)
Here’s a decidely not tiny snippet of my Tanthamore Marked fic to be finished one day:
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The bedroom felt impossibly quiet, outside, city traffic hummed at a distance, but inside it was just their breath and the soft brush of skin against skin. Kit’s hands had wandered up, fingers curled loosely around Jade’s thigh, gripping for ballast or comfort or both. Jade let her hold on. She craved the contact, the silent affirmation that Kit wanted to stay, that she’d earned her place at Jade’s side, at her feet, wherever Jade chose to put her.
Jade’s hand slid from Kit’s hair to her face, cupping her jaw, thumb sweeping slow, lazy arcs over her cheekbone. She tipped Kit’s chin up, examining her handiwork in the low light. The patterns she’d left were drying, starting to flake at the edges, but still brilliant in the center, the sheen catching every little movement.
“Look at you,” Jade said, almost to herself. “Fucking art project.”
Kit’s eyes fluttered open, hazy but searching. “Yours,” she breathed, and even in the single word, the devotion was naked and absolute — just as Kit was, every boundary dissolved, every part of her stripped to truth in Jade’s presence.
Jade smiled, this time without restraint. She leaned in and kissed Kit, open-mouthed and wet, licking her own taste from Kit’s lips, from the corners of her mouth, until there was nothing left but breath and warmth and the slow steadying of Kit’s heartbeat under her hands.
The come had dried in Kit’s hair, making the ends stick together in uneven clumps, shining almost amber where the lamplight caught it. Jade combed through with her fingers, gentle now, not the love-cruel tugs she had delivered before. She was careful not to pull, not to mar the pattern, just smoothing, arranging, tucking stray hairs behind Kit’s ears. Kit leaned into every touch, eyes closing again, the tension gone from her body. Her breaths had slowed; she seemed to be floating, untethered from time.
Jade’s fingers found the curve at the nape of Kit’s neck, a spot that always made her shudder, and pressed there, massaging small, tight circles. Kit shivered, her lips parting in a tiny, involuntary gasp. It was so different from the earlier violence; now Jade was all warmth, all reassurance, and Kit soaked it in, blooming under the careful attention.
“You’re beautiful,” Jade whispered, and she meant it. Not in a way that required response or acknowledgment; it was a statement of fact, as solid and simple as the bed they shared, as the night that swaddled them.
Kit’s mouth moved in reply, but no words came out. She didn’t need to speak. Everything she wanted to say was in the way she clung to Jade’s thigh, the way her body melted under Jade’s touch, in the way she insisted on keeping Jade’s marks — the bites and bruises emerging on her skin, the traces of Jade’s desire lingering on her face, refusing to let either fade too quickly. And most of all, in the way her eyes found Jade’s face, seeking, always seeking, as if Jade’s gaze could write new meaning onto her.
And maybe it was already there, in the silent script of surrender, written in every mark and traced in every breath between them.
Tagging (if they want to play) for a tiny or not tiny snippet, or they can just enjoy the tag: @acre-of-wheat, @barmaid-anon, @crystal-clear-editz88, @jayenator565, @flowerssintheconcrete, @evodevo-geekmonkey, and @onlyshestandsthere (I know some of you were already tagged, but worse things have happened than being double tagged, am I right?😏 i mean, i don't mind)
