#pearly bookmarks

[misspearly1]

Ohthisficmakesmewanttocryhappytears!!! 😭

Char, the images your writing has planted in my mind is so beautiful, smutty and intimate. I knew this fic would be a good read. I just knew it! There's more under the cut, my love. As you know, I like to go a little in depth with the feedback 🥰.

Ooooh! Okay, first let me just say how sexy it was to read Joel so desperate in the beginning there with Reader. I love that he's just came home from patrol and his hands are on her instantly, as if he's not had her touch for years, when in actuality, it's only been a few hours. I loved that she was just minding her own, her hips swaying to music as she cooks and in the next breath, she's giggling with Joel and kissing him. It's so sweet!

As we move onto the smut - which is always so well written, and sexy and erotic too - I have to say that I really enjoyed the dirty talk from Joel here. You wrote it so darn well!! I could sense that possessiveness and feral hunger from the man before reader even thought about how much she loved it when he gets like that. Lovely smutty writing, as always my dear!

Now, when moving onto the next part with Maria, I found that so fucking sweet how she reacted and took care of reader. I really like Maria's character from the game and I love how she just took hold of readers hand here and whisked her towards the closest pregnancy test, the excitement in her voice palpable! I really adored how you wrote reader waiting to take the test at home too, wanting Joel to be the first who finds out. That's a lovely touch and very considerate too!

I'M IN LOVE WITH JOEL'S REACTION!!! Oh, the way you wrote him entering the bathroom and immediately moving in to comfort her was just making my heart explode. I especially loved how he said 'let's look at it together'. Jsjsjsjjs that's so fucking sweet! 😭.

Including Ellie was perfect too! I love that. She's an important person in Joel's life, and a baby coming along is important too. I love that she was ready to step in and help, becoming a big sister to readers baby.

Reading through (readers) her experience with the pregnancy and birth, with Maria and Ellie at her side is lovely. I love how they were there the whole time, giving her all the support and reassurance she'd need. I love that Joel finally made it too! He needed to be there. Not only to witness the birth of his baby, but because the reader needed him there too. I was so relieved that he made it back in time. 🥰

Olivia Sarah Miller?? 😭😭 Oh, Char! You're breaking my heart here. This is so beautiful. The name is perfect! The ending to this story is just perfect too. I really enjoyed reading Joel talking away to Olivia. I love that he just scooped the baby into his arms and let Reader rest. This whole story was so beautifully written!

Thank you so much for tagging me, my dear! I enjoyed this so much. 💚

Happy Joel!!! Post apocalyptic happy Joel that’s what I wish to see!!! Happy horny Joel with major breeding kink because Ellie is already grown up and he need to take care of somebody and Jackson is safe enough for family. Imagine this big hands holding little babe

Aww yes nonnie, loved this request so much. Joel getting to have a family again is everything. Hope you enjoy 😉

Maybe Now

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, PinV sex, breeding kink, mentions of loss, sadness, talks about life before, mentions of pregnancy, giving birth, breastfeeding, soft Joel, small glimpses into Joel’s life with his new family.

A/N: still have two Joel requests I’m working on, hoping to have them out this week. My requests are only open at the minute for Joel, but I will be opening them up across the board very soon 🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Music played in the background as you stirred the sauce for the chicken, hips swaying to the beat as you hummed along to the song. 

“Oh,” you gasp as a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Somethin’ smells good, darlin’.” He breathes in the aroma as he rests his head on your shoulder. 

“Just a new recipe I’m trying out. How was the patrol today?” Joel’s arms tighten around you, and you can feel him hard against your ass. 

“Was ok. Nothin’ to excitin’. Missed you though.” His lips begin to leave a trail of kisses along the skin of your neck and shoulder. 

“Oh yeah?” You tease as you switch off the stove and turn in his arms. He nods, eyes taking in the curve of your lips before meeting your gaze.

“God, you’re beautiful, baby.” His voice is low, almost a whisper but the deep timber of his voice set the spark of arousal alight. 

His lips crash hungrily onto yours and you moan as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. What’s gotten into him tonight? You think to yourself as his hands move to cup your ass. 

“Need you, darlin’,” he mumbles into your skin, and you shiver. 

“What about dinner?” You ask, a strangled moan passing your lips as he pulls the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. 

His teeth nip at the pebbled peak of your nipple, and he groans into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair. “Can’t wait, darlin’, I can’t.”

His tongue licks around your nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. “Oh, Joel. Oh god…fuck…yes, dinner can wait. Take me to bed.” 

He pulls back with a devilish smile on his face, pupils blown wide with lust. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

His hands grip the back of your thighs and with a squeal, you're lifted into his arms. “Joel, what are you doing? Put me down, your back.”

“Trust me darlin’, ain’t nothin’ ever gonna stop me from havin’ my way' with you.” 

He carries you towards the bedroom, kicking open the door he gently lowers you, his mouth devouring you as he walks you back towards the bed. 

“Take it off,” he commands as he stands staring at you through lust-hooded eyes. The authority in his voice has you quivering with need. 

You lift the dress over your head and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He growls as he takes in the sight of you naked. “Fuck darlin’ you been walkin’ around all day with nothin’ on under that dress?”

“Hmm, Hmm. Wanted to be ready for when you got home,” you say softly before biting your bottom lip. His eyes rake over your curves as he starts to strip.

“You gonna take what’s yours Miller or do I have to go find someone else?” You tease and before you can go anywhere, he grabs your ass and lowers you onto the bed. 

“You’re mine. Ain’t no one else allowed to touch what’s mine, ya hear?” He growls, hand gripping your face before he lowers his lips to yours. 

“Gonna show you whose pussy this is, case you forgot while I was gone.” He grabs his cock in his hand and runs the tip along your slick, coating himself in your arousal before he notches the head at your entrance and thrusts in. 

God, you loved when he got like this. Possessive. Feral. It was also the only time he truly let his guard down. 

“Fuck, darlin’. You’re so wet…so tight. Always so tight.” He rolls his hips into you sheathing himself completely within the heat of your walls. You’ve never felt so full. 

He rocks himself into you over and over, his mouth swallowing your soft whimpers as he kisses you passionately. Your joint moans fill the space around you as he works you towards your climax. 

You can feel yourself teetering along the edge and just as you’re about to fall he pulls out causing you to groan in protest. “Joel what….”

He lays himself back on the bed and grabs you so you’re straddling him. “Wanna be able to see you, darlin’. Want you to ride me.” He stares up at you, eyes blown wide with lust, and he watches as you slowly sink onto him. 

He groans, head pushing back into the pillow as he grips your hips. “Never gonna get used to the size of you, Joel. Fuck.”

“Need you to move now, darlin’.” His voice is husky with need and when you move your hips above him, he groans loudly, eyes closing as he feels you slide up and down his cock. 

“That’s it darlin’…just… just like that. So beautiful like this…. takin’ me so well.” Your head falls back as you come around him, a breathy moan passing your plush lips.

“Fuck…I can feel you coming baby…squeezing me so damn tight.” He groans as he starts to thrust upward meeting your movements and you can feel yourself coming again. 

“Oh god, Joel…. I’m…fuck I’m gonna come….” you cry as you flutter around him again. His fingers dig into your hips as he grunts loudly. “God damn, darlin’. You’re so pretty when you come. Gonna look even prettier, round and swollen with my baby.”

Baby?! 

“Joel what are you…” He sits up, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight as he fucks up into you. 

“Ya heard me, darlin’. Now you need to hush and let fuck you full of me, ya hear. Wanna have you nice and round with my baby.” His breathing was becoming laboured as he neared his release. You came again with a flutter of your cunt at his words, and it sends him over the edge. 

His head rests on your breast as he calms his racing heart. Your mind is racing from what just happened. He came inside you. Something he never does. “Did you mean it?” You ask nervously, hoping that he hadn’t just said it in the heat of the moment.

 Running your fingers through his hair, he hums, a contented sigh falling from his lips. He pulls back a little so he can look at you. “Meant every word, darlin’. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot lately. I mean we’re safe here in Jackson. We got family, friends who would help us with the baby.” 

He kisses the edge of your mouth. Once. Twice. 

“I never thought in a million years I’d want this. Not after Sarah. Not with the way the world is but then I found Ellie, found you and now it’s all I want. I want nothin’ more in this fucked up world than to have a family with you.” His fingers caress your cheeks as he stares intently into your eyes. 

A single tear falls down your cheek and you give him a watery smile. “Are you sure?”

“Never been surer about anything, baby. So, what'd ya say?” His eyes flicker between your own and when you nod at him, he pulls you into a heated kiss.  

“Best eat that dinner now because I ain’t lettin’ you leave this bed until I’m sure I’ve fucked a baby into you.”

***

Joel was a man of his word. 

He had kept you in that bed for days before he went out on patrol again. Making sure he had you full of him. 

And sure enough, a month later you had missed a period. Something that never happened. You didn’t even notice at first until you began to feel nauseous all the damn time. 

Maria had laughed when you heaved at the smell of her cooking. Some fish dinner Tommy loved, and she had jokingly said ‘you’re not pregnant are you’. 

“I think I might be.” 

“Oh, my god. Really? This is amazing. Ok ok…eh, I think there are some pregnancy tests over at the Johnsons. Let’s go.”

She pulled you by the hand and led you to the house across the street where she asked Lauren for two tests. 

“Here. You want me to come with you while you take them?” She asks, looking down at your slightly shaky hands. 

“No. Thanks but if it is positive, I want Joel to be the first to know.” Maria nods in understanding. 

“Ok but then you gotta come find me and let me know.” She stares at you with a pointed look. 

“I promise.”

***

3 minutes.

The longest three minutes of your life. You pace the length of your bedroom as you wait for the result, too caught up in your own head to notice that Joel has come home and is calling for you. 

The door slowly creaking open startles you and you whip your head around to find him looking at you, face full of concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong darlin’?” He asks, voice low as he slowly makes his way to you. His arms slide over your hips to wrap around your back, pulling you close. 

His eyes look down at you and you can make out the concern in them. “I-I uh…. I’m late. And I haven’t been feeling too well lately so I…” You worry your bottom lip and tilt your head towards your bedside locker where the white stick is placed. 

His eyes drift to where you’re looking and when he sees it his gaze flickers back to you quickly. “Are you?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked.” 

His fingers move up and down your back in a soothing manner and he smiles down at you. “Let’s look together then. Come on,” he says as he grabs your hand gently in his and leads you to the bed. 

Grabbing the stick he looks at you, his face full of love and adoration and you instantly calm. “Ready?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

“Yeah.” God, you hope it’s positive. You hope it isn’t just some bug or something. Joel looks so happy right now and you don’t even know if you are yet. 

Two pink lines.

Pregnant.

“Does that…. are you?” He gulps nervously as his eyes shift from the stick in his hand to you.

“I’m pregnant. We’re gonna have a baby.” You say with a smile. His eyes instantly light up and you huff out a breath as he pulls you into, both of you falling back on the bed. 

His lips are on you the minute your back hits the mattress and his hand rests on your stomach. “Our baby’s in there.” His voice is almost a whisper but it’s full of pride. His face is a myriad of emotions, and you think you can see tears well in his eyes. 

“Hey,” you say softly as you cup his cheek in your hand. “You, ok?”

His eyes linger on your stomach for a moment before his gaze meets yours. “Yeah…I- it’s just…Sarah would have loved this. She always wanted a brother or sister just…. I just never found the right person.” He chokes in his words as he tries to hold back the tears. 

“She’s still here, Joel. In here,” you say as you point to his heart. He nods. A smile edged its way onto his face. 

“Yeah. She woulda liked you. And Ellie.” He trails off as he stares down at his hand on your stomach and your heart breaks for him. Placing your hand atop his, you squeeze it gently. “And we would have loved her. How about, if this baby is a girl, her middle name can be Sarah. To honour her big sister?”

A watery smile adorns his face as he looks at you and nods. “I’d like that.” His hand rests on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. “I love you.”

“I love you too. We love you.”

***

Ellie was over the moon when you both told her. Delighted to be becoming a big sister and between herself and Joel, they wouldn’t let you do much. 

The protectiveness has only gotten worse as time goes on and you start to show. You’re five months along and your bump has finally popped, something Joel is very proud of. 

You’ve seen another side of him since becoming pregnant, a softer side and you wonder if this is how he was before the outbreak. 

“Morning baby girl. Hope you slept ok?” His soft voice stirs you from sleep and it takes you a moment to realise he isn’t talking to you. He is talking to your baby.

“Hope you didn’t kick up a storm and keep your mama awake. She needs all the rest so you can grow big and strong. This world is a big scary place, but you don’t gotta worry, because your old man is gonna keep you safe. I’m not gonna fail this time.” His voice cracks a little and you can feel tears building behind your eyes. You want to reach down and comfort him, but you know he needs his time with your baby, so you wait.

“You got so many people here who love you. Me and your mom for one but you also got a big sister who is very special, and she is gonna look out for you no matter what. Then you got your uncle Tommy. He’s an idiot. Don’t tell him I said that. He’s a good man though and he can’t wait to meet you and tell you stories about me and him when we were younger.” He laughs quietly as he rubs his hand over your bump. 

“Hopefully not all of them.” He continues to talk about the community in Jackson and when he trails off you reach down and run your fingers through his hair. He releases a contented sigh and lifts his head. “Morning darlin’. You sleep ok?”

“Hmm, best sleep ever. What are you doing?” His face blushes and his gaze drifts to your bump. “Just havin’ a chat with my baby girl.”

“Mmm, and what if it’s a boy? What then?” You say with a smile. His gaze meets yours again and his smile makes the butterflies in your stomach dance. 

“Nah, it’s a girl. I can tell.” 

***

You weren’t entirely sure when your due date was exactly, but the local doctor had it narrowed down to a certain week. Joel was on patrol for the next two days even though he was supposed to be home. Jason had gotten sick, and they needed an extra hand, so he agreed reluctantly. 

Ellie and Maria had assured him they would look out for you until he got back but you could see the anxiety in his eyes when he left. 

That was three days ago now and you were beginning to get worried that something had happened. Not only that, but you’d started to get pains across your lower back and you were worried you’d go into labour without him here. 

“Hey, you ok? You don’t look so good.” Ellie asks as she walks into the kitchen. You nod your head but then a sharp pain erupts across your stomach, and you bend over with a gasp. Water pools on the floor between your legs. Oh shit. 

“Ok. You’re not ok. Let’s get you into bed and then I’m going to get Maria and doc.” She leads you slowly to your bed, helping you in and propping you up with pillows before she rushes out of the house. 

You pray that Joel comes home soon. He’ll be so annoyed if he misses this. You hope he’s ok. 

“Hey. Ellie tells me you're in pain. Where does it hurt?” Jessica the local doctor asks as she comes to sit on the bed beside you. 

“Along my lower back and across my stomach. It’s been on and off since this morning but it’s getting worse.” You clench your teeth as another pain rips through you. 

“Ok. I’m just gonna have a look and see how everything is, ok?” Jessica helps remove your trousers and underwear and begins to examine you. Maria and Ellie are standing on either side of the bed and you turn to Maria who smiles down at you. 

“Any word? Are they ok?” 

She shares a look with Ellie before smiling down at you. “Hey. They’ll be ok. It’s Joel and Tommy, ain’t nothing gonna happen.”

“I need him here. I can’t do this without him.” Your face scrunches in pain as another pain shoots across your stomach. 

“Ok, so you’re 5cm dilated. You need to be at ten to push. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything for the pain but I’m gonna be here the whole time, ok?”

You nod.

“You need to breathe through the pain. In and out. In and out.” Jessica breathes in deeply to show you and you imitate her. “Good. Hopefully, we’ll have a baby soon.”

Jessica orders Maria and Ellie around, getting them to gather supplies and then you all just wait. 

It gets harder and harder to stay quiet through the pain and eventually your cries of pain echo around the room. 

“Go to the gate and see if they’ve heard anything,” Maria asks Ellie and then she’s gone. You turn to Maria who smiles and holds your hand. “I need him.”

“I know. He’ll be here, I promise.” She hopes. 

***

“Ok Y/N, I’m gonna need you to push now, ok?” Jessica asks and you shake your head. 

“No! No, I can’t. Not without him. I need to wait.” You cry in pain as another contraction spikes. 

“I know but the baby is ready to come now. We can’t wait.” Jessica looks at Maria and gives her a knowing look. 

“Y/N, Jessica is right. The baby is ready to come. You can do it; I know you can. Joel would want you to.”

Suddenly the door opens, and all eyes are on the intruder. Joel. 

“Joel!” You cry as you grip Maria’s hand tight, face scrunching in pain. 

“It’s me, baby. I’m here.” He rushes to your side thanking Maria for being there for you. He leans down and kisses the top of your head. 

“I thought you were dead.” You sob as tears begin to fall down your cheeks. He rubs the top of your head gently, soothingly. 

“I know, baby. But I’m alright. I’m here and I’m ready to meet our baby girl.” He turns to Jessica, “is ok if I get on the bed with her?”

“Sure. It might even help.”

Joel takes off his dirty shoes and removes the pillows from behind you, taking their place. He kisses your cheek and holds your hands in his as he whispers words of encouragement. 

“That’s it, baby. Just a little more. You’re doin’ so well.”

You push and push and push and then the room is filled with the cries of a newborn. “Congratulations you two, a beautiful baby girl.”

Jessica hands your baby to Maria who is cleaning her as she cuts the umbilical cord. “I told you it was gonna be a girl, darlin’,” Joel whispers into the shell of your ear as he kisses your neck. “You did so well, baby. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.”

“Guys she is gorgeous,” Maria coos as she hands you your daughter. She is the image of Joel with her brown eyes and a mop of dark hair on her little head. 

You cradle her in your arms and Joel holds you both from behind. A strangled sob escapes his lips, and you turn your head to look back at him. “You, ok?”

He goes to speak but his voice cracks. He closes his eyes for a moment before meeting your worried gaze. 

“She’s beautiful. She looks…. she has Sarah’s eyes.” You smile at him before shifting your gaze to her again. 

“I forgot how small they are,” he whispers from behind you. “Thank you, darlin’. You’ve given me everything today. I still feel like I don’t deserve it but I’m so fuckin’ happy.”

“Can I hold her?” Ellie asks from beside you and you nod your head before handing her gently to her. 

“Mind her head,” Joel says, his face serious as he looks at Ellie. “Don’t worry, I got this.” She beams.

Later that night after you’d delivered the afterbirth and got cleaned up. You relax back against Joel in your shared bed, which is now clean thanks to Maria and Ellie.

Your baby girl is suckling at your breast as you gently rub her cheek. Joel holds you both close as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Ellie is gonna call back in the morning and help make breakfast,” he whispers, trying not to disturb the moment. 

You hum. 

“What are we gonna name her?” You ask, gaze focused on your daughter. 

“Whatever you want darlin’.” His hand rests on your daughter's leg, rubbing soothing circles into her skin. 

“How about Olivia Sarah Miller?” You hear him suck in a breath and you turn your head slightly. 

“I love it, darlin’. Sarah she…. she uh…she loved the name, Olivia. Always said if I gave her a sister that’s what she wanted her to be named.” His eyes are glazed over, and a single tear runs down his cheek. 

“Then it’s perfect.” You look down at her once more and smile. “Welcome to the world Olivia.”

***

6 months later…

You wake with a start, hand brushing over to reach your husband only to find the bed empty. Throwing on one of his shirts you make your way next door to check on your daughter but she’s not there either. 

Panic floods you. 

As you make your way downstairs the deep timber of his voice calms your racing heart. Without making a sound, you make your way towards the open door and lean against the frame as you take in the sight of Joel on his rocking chair, Olivia nestled into his side. 

The sight of him with your daughter has your heart racing and the butterflies fluttering within your stomach. Seeing him like this makes you love him even more. 

“I’m gonna build you a swing set right there,” he says as he points to a certain point in the garden.

“Watch you playin’ while me and your momma sit here with our cups of coffee.” You can’t help the snort that passes your lips, and he turns in your direction with a smile on his face.

“Mornin’ darlin’. Sleep ok?” 

“Yeah. When did she wake? I didn’t hear her.” You move off the door frame and walk towards them until you're pulled into Joel’s lap. He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips while your daughter giggles beside you. 

“Wanted to let you sleep, darlin’. You’ve been exhausted.”

“You, Joel Miller, are too good to me.” You say softly before leaning in and kissing him. “Will I take her off you now?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. We’re havin’ a good chat ain’t we baby girl?” Olivia coos at her daddy and your heart melts. 

“Ok, well I’ll go and make us some coffee. Be back in a minute,” you say as you stand, kissing Olivia on the cheek and making your way inside. The sound of Joel’s voice fills your senses, and you smile at his words. 

“I love your momma so much, baby girl. I don’t know what I did to deserve her but I’m so grateful she walked into my life and I ain’t ever letting her go.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade

[tlouadditc]

to the brim ... <3

dom!abby x fem!sub!reader

!! not my pic !!

warnings: fluff + smut [MDNI and MEN DNI.] modern!au / no apocalypse, established relationship, softdom!abby [?], i couldnt think of good gifts dont mind it, abby is a gamer confirmed bc i said so, breeding [duh], abby has a breeding strap, filthy talk omg :(( ah!! i think thats it

a/n: ever since i read @seattlesellie's ellie breeding fic... i've been a changed woman. so here's my take on abby! p.s.: no desc. of hair, skin color, size, etc. :) this is also kinda long but enjoy my loves!

you and abby had been together for around 3 long, happy years. the happiest years, you could say. it was weird; you never thought you'd end up like this. never.. imagined being happy with someone, especially someone as outgoing and brave as abby. you were complete opposites, you being more introverted and kept to yourself while abby was loud and proud. even the way she asked you out [buying you your favorite flowers, making you dinner, AND two cute little matching rings] was memorable and creative. you've always loved everything about her.

today, in present time, is your anniversary. every year, you attempt to top the last year. always remembering little details and bookmarking whatever she sent you just for this moment. abby's currently at her office job; "busiest day of the year, but i'll be back in time for dinner," she explained earlier that morning. "promise!" you take this as an opportunity to buy her gifts and plan out a romantic dinner for the night.

lately, she's been wanting these lego flower sets [specifically the orchid ones since they reminded her of you.. :,)], so you quickly bought one. that isn't enough, you think, so you also get custom lego keychains of both of you, making them both wear wedding dresses and smile as bright as the sun. while you're at it, you get her favorite cake, chocolate with strawberry sprinkles, and have "happy 3rd anniversary, my love" on the top. you smile as you reach your apartment, already visualizing her surprised face. i'll get her this year, you think as you step inside.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

hours later, you hear a slight knock knock knock on the door. perfect timing, you think, quickly fixing your hair and looking over your outfit. you're wearing a black maxi dress, tight-fitting over your curves, but simple in style. it's kinda casual, but abby insisted on staying home. "it's for my surprise," she argued, a smirk forming on her face as she said it. she always had some quick trick up her sleeve, but you're even quicker.

well. most of the time.

you peek in the peephole, and there she is. she's wearing her glasses today [her bluelight ones you bought for her your last anniversary since she always complained about her headaches], dressed in all black and her hair flowing down her shoulders. her hands hold onto the handle of a medium sized, deep red giftbag. she probably feels your eyes on her, because flashes a pearly smile up to the small opening. no matter how much she smiles, you never get tired of it. you quickly unlock the door and open it widely.

her pale skin turns a slight dusty shade of pink as she looks you up in down, lovingly taking in your beauty. her mouth opens to say something, but all that comes out is a soft, "hi, baby," before she pulls you into a tight hug, exhaling as she wraps her toned arms around you. she feels like.. like something familiar, but nothing you've ever felt before. something comforting. like home.

she pulls back, placing her hands on either cheek. her eyes move back and forth from one eye to another, almost as if she's trying to read your mind, hear your thoughts. "missed you so much, bun." she leans in, giving you two small pecks on the lips before pulling you into one last hug.

"missed you more abs," you murmur, "more than you'd ever know."

she pulls back, smiling as you mirror her expression. after a couple of seconds, she finally looks around the apartment. "babe?" she questions, clearly in shock. there's big, red heart balloons and her favorite candles are lit all around. she's completely enveloped in the candlelit room, gasping when she looks down and sees rose petals scattered beautifully on the wooden floor. you see her eyes lock onto two red, nicely wrapped gifts on the coffee table. "oh. my god," she looks from the living room back to you, astonished. "no, you didn't."

"oh, yes i did," you giggle as you close and lock the front door. she walks carefully over the fresh rose petals into the living room. she sits on the couch, looking up at you with doe eyes. "babe, if this is what i think it is..." she pauses and exhales. all you can do is smile; your excitement cannot be contained. "open them up!" you cheer, sitting down in the armchair beside the sofa.

she picks up the smaller box, cautiously shaking it. she was always great at guessing your gifts. but this time, she furrows her brows in confusion. she shakes it once more, a little harder this time, deep thought written across her sharp face. the scrunch in her nose makes you laugh a bit. "is it.." she starts, but cuts herself off. "i don't know.. actually."

you shrug, "then open it, babe." she sighs before accepting defeat and opening the small package. as soon as she gets the paper off, she gasps and looks up at you. "oh my god!" she exclaims. "wait, are these-" she looks back at the package, back at you, and holds it up to your face. "oh my god! it's us!"

you smile and laugh while she gushes over the fact they look exactly like you two. "how did they get my hair perfect? and the little dresses! i mean, look at it, oh my god." she admires them silently for a few seconds before uttering, "this is gonna be us, bun. i promise."

the uncontrollable urge to smile takes over your face, making your cheeks hurt a bit. she's muttering a thousand "thank you"s before opening the next one; the one you're the most excited about. she's been talking about this since last year, but she never had the time to get it or start it, matter of fact.

she tears the paper once again, immediately stopping in her tracks. her eyes move up to you once again and her jaw goes slack. "oh my FUCKING god," she yells, ripping the rest of the paper off. it's almost like she's a child again; the way her face lights up makes your entire day worth while. she proceeds to nerd out over the set once again, "this is so... oh my goodness i can't even explain how excited i am. thank you so much babe... wow.. i got so lucky..."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

you made her favorite dinner that night, having it freshly prepared for her and still warm on the stove. she just rambles about how she's the luckiest woman in the world to have a beautiful girlfriend and how much she loves you. she continues this throughout the entire meal, making sure she can treat you with the same treatment whenever she can; wiping your cheek when anything got on your face, getting you whatever you needed with no questions asked.. anything. basically, your everyday treatment with her.

after dinner, you both sit on the sofa, talking about your days. mid-conversation, abby randomly gasps.

"and then he was li- uhm... abby?"

"oh my god. i almost forgot!"

"what? what's the matter?"

"your gift!!"

she practically jumps out of her seat, striding over to the counter where she left the giftbag. "can't believe i forgot my gift for my special girl." she scoffs at herself and sits while handing you the bag. it's not heavy, but it's also not lightweight. you scan through your memories of things you've mentioned to her: cats, a wedding ring, books... but it didn't seem like any of that stuff was in here.

you give up, opening the top and looking inside. your jaw drops. you see a long, light pink box. there's fancy gold lettering across the front that you can't read. you take the box out, and unwrap the ribbon bow from around it. as you lift the top up, you see plush flowers and.. a small hello kitty stuffed animal in between the flowers. you squeal as you put the bag down and hug abby tightly, muttering thankyouthankyouthankyou!! all she does is smile and whisper "of course, princess." you think that's it before you realize there's a small pink card and a even smaller box inside the bag.

confused, you pick up the card and analyze the cover. it's a baby princess themed card; such an abby thing to do. you glance over at her to crack a smile, but you realize she has on that devilish smirk plastered across her face. uh oh, you think. "why're you smiling like that, babe?"

"like what?" her smirk grows wider.

that's even more 'abby' like than the card.

you roll your eyes jokingly before deciding to open the card up. inside, there's a paragraph written:

"dear y/n,

happy 3rd anniversary, my love! i'm so glad you're in my life, even after all this time. you'll always be special to me and i see that we will grow old together. i know you've been wanting that bouquet for a while, but i noticed you've been obsessed with something more.."

you glance up at abby once again. she's watching your reaction with that same smirk. what is she up to? you continue to read:

"i hope you noticed the cover of the card; of course, you're my princess, and you always will be. but i always see you looking at baby clothes when we're out, gushing over baby videos at home, etc etc. and even though we technically can't make one.. i can still give you the experience. ;) love your [nonofficial] wife, abby"

you feel your face heat up as you close the card. abby's large, warm hand suddenly starts stroking your leg through the dress, jolting you back to reality. she chuckles, whispering, "mm, you want that, right? you want me to knock you up?" she's getting closer, her hot breath hitting your neck, making you shudder. "want me to fill you to the brim, baby? hm?"

she's kissing your neck, small pecks turning into full-on hickeys. she loves the way you whimper and squirm, the way you turn your head to give her more access. "i'll take that as a yes," she breathes, a small laugh leaving her mouth. her hand travels from your leg, up to your neck and chin, making you turn and kiss her.

"so pretty like this," she coos in between kisses. she's lost in your big eyes, your noises; lost in you. she toys with the thin straps of your dress, subtly signaling to take it off. you, of course, rush to peel it off. after you do so, you're almost completely naked while she's completely clothed. the drastic difference makes you feel small under her predatory gaze. she taps her thigh twice and demands, "come here, princess."

you straddle her lap, your clothed cunt slightly gaining friction against her pants, making you whimper. "such pretty noises," she murmurs, mostly to herself. her hands rest nicely on your sides, right above your hips. "so, tell me," she starts. "how you wanna do this, mama?"

the new nickname makes you feel a slight heartbeat in between your legs. "oh, you liked that, huh?" she comments, smirking as she looks up at your pretty little face. "well, if you want me to take control, i'll do it. i'll do whatever you want, mama."

"use me," you blurt out, desperately needing her right at that moment. you move your hips back and forth, grinding against her crotch to relieve the ache in between your thighs. abby lets out a breathy laugh, "oh, you want it that bad? god, you're so cute."

before you can respond, she's wrapping her arm around your waist and standing up. you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck out of instinct. she's walking you to the bedroom, just like her little princess.

when she gets into the room, she lays you on your back, legs behind held back by her large hands pinning them under your armpits. your breath is shaky, heartbeat practically bulging out of your chest. she leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck alllll the way down to your bellybutton. "f-fuck, abby," you shudder, her face getting closer and closer to your heat. "what's wrong?" she asks, "what you need, baby?"

"need you inside," you beg, not caring how pathetic you sound now. "oh, i know, baby," she coos, "but i wanna make this special for you, okay? no rushing. just us."

you appreciate her genuine care with your intimate experiences with her, but at this point, the ache was growing more and more painful as time went on. you whine, moving one of the hands pinning your leg to your cunt. "please, abs. need it."

"fuck, babe," her voice is low and husky, almost a growl. "okay, okay, i got you, mkay? i'll treat you right, promise."

her pointer finger ghosts over your swollen clit, forcing a small moan out. small little circles stimulate your bud, drenching your already soaked panties. she groans, "always so wet f'me, my god." as if she can't take it anymore, she practically rips off the small cloth off your aching pussy. the cold air meeting the warmth of your core makes you gasp, squeezing your thighs together in response.

abby's warmth comes back and divorces your legs apart, pinning them back to where they were originally. "gonna take such good care of you, mama," she mutters, kissing your inner thighs. after what feels like an eternity of teasing, she finally lays small, short kitten licks on your cunt. the small feeling of her warm muscle against your clit relieves the burning ache in your core, but only for a second. she lays a flat tongue, collecting your slick as she moves up. your small "oh"s egg her on, fueling her ego as she spreads your lips apart and latches onto your bud. your moans grow louder and louder, legs slightly trembling from how good it felt. little did you know, she's getting off on your pretty little reactions; she's moaning against your bud, vibrations making your legs shake even more.

"ffffuck-," you cry out, gripping the sheets from pleasure. the vibrations send you over the edge, the familiar tingly feeling in your abdomen unraveling. "m'cumming- oh my god," you wail, attempting to close your legs to get away from abby's tongue. her hands grip your thighs, forcing them apart once again. she continues to suck on your clit, overstimulating you. "t-too much - fuck!"

your juices and her saliva mix, coating the bottom of her chin. she finally unlatches from your sensitive, swollen bud and wipes her chin. "sorry, bun," she says, heavily breathing, "you just taste so goddamn sweet, i had to!"

as abby starts to walk away [you assume it's to help you clean up so you guys can sleep], you slowly drift away into a deep sleep..

"nuh uh, 'm not done with you, mama."

your eyes force open, eyes immediately landing on abby's bare chest. she was almost never topless around you - except when you two showered together - but it wasn't a norm in the house. you unintentionally whisper, "you're so beautiful," causing a wide smile to go across abby's kind face. "thank you, baby," she replied, "c'mere." she patted the edge of the bed. her usual black strap was buckled on, intimidating you from the end of the bed.

you crawl to the edge, sitting on your feet when you reach abby. she giggles, "get on your back, babe. you know the drill." you follow her orders, slightly chuckling at your mistake. as she lines herself up with your slit, she caresses your face, just telling you how much she loves you; "love you so much, bun. i'm so lucky to have you, y'know that, right?" she peppers small pecks along your face in between, smiling at your perfect face.

"'m gonna go all in, okay? jus' let me know when i can move," she warns. you nod, slightly nervous. the strap seemed bigger than usual; a bit wider too. it made you think she'd rip you apart with this thing! but as she bottomed out, the sharp painful sensation was short lived and replaced with a more pleasant sensation, the feeling of being full. and not just full, but full of her.

you start to slightly grind on her cock, trying to get any pleasure. the desperate motion making abby smirk and slam into you again, this time earning a loud, pathetic yelp from you. she continues to slam into you, holding your hips for leverage. "yea, keep makin' those pretty sounds for me," she groans, almost in an animalistic way. all you can do is tell her how good you feel, hands gripping onto her toned biceps.

she brings a hand down, right over your abdomen, pressing slightly. "you feel me right there, yea?" there's a slight bulge where her strap is; the sight makes you drool slightly. you nod feverishly, focusing on her voice and her dick pounding into you. her hips snap back and forth, squishing sounds filling the dimly lit room.

she, on the other hand, is hyper-focused on watching the black silicone disappear inside your gushing cunt, a vague white ring forming around the base of her cock. the sight alone has her pussydrunk and practically forming a pool in between her thighs. "such a messy fucking cunt," she murmurs. "wish i could fucking - shit - fill that little pussy up."

your moans become louder, your grip tightening on the meat of her muscles. your head goes back, putting the hickeys she gave you on full display. "oh, you fucking like that, huh?" she places both hands on either side of your head, still fucking you at a relentless pace. every thrust she does, her tits bounce slightly in front of you. her hair frames her face perfectly, the sweat beads racing down her skin as she pounds into you.

"holy fuck," you whimper. her cock, buried deep inside your greedy little cunt, hits that spongy spot inside of you, making you go insane. she smirks, she knows what she's doing. "what? speak up, princess," she speaks, a mocking tone laced in her words.

"s-so good," a choked moan cuts you short.

"you like the way 'm fucking you? like the way that dick got you going crazy, huh?"

a string of yesyesyes's is all you can get out, too lost in your own pleasure.

"wan' me to fuck my baby into you?" she's out of breath, start to whimper, but she doesn't slow down or stop. she just keeps. on. pounding. she's chasing her orgasm, clit bumping against the base of the strap. you're just a wailing, helpless mess under her, begging for her to cum into you. "i need it, p-please, abs!"

she moans loudly as her thrusts get sloppier, slowing down slightly. you feel a thick liquid unleash into your hole, filling you up. the new feeling causing you to gasp, looking down at where you two met. abby fully pulls out after a few seconds, when a gush of white liquid slowly drips out of your stuffed cunt. she whispers, "fuck, that's a pretty sight to see." using one hand, she spreads you open, your fucked-out hole on display, just for her.

you're still trying to steady your breathing, getting more tired by the second. abby sits on the bed next to you, pulling you into her lap. she caresses your face once again, "did so good f'me, baby. happy anniversary." she kisses your forehead, cuddling you close to her body. before you fully fall asleep, she picks you up, bridal style.

"wh- what are you doing?" you question, half asleep.

"gotta clean you up, babe." she giggles at your sleepy voice.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

after a long, warm bubble bath together and a small cleaning session, you and abby finally lay back on the couch to watch a movie and cuddle.

"y'know what, babe?" she asks, shoveling chocolate cake into her mouth.

"what?"

"i wish i could actually get you pregnant."

you slightly giggle at that, "me too."

"i also want to marry you. really badly." she's looking at your face now, reading into your soul.

"we should get married," you speak, thoughtfully. what's the point of her bringing this u-

she gets up unexpectedly, walking over to your giftbag. confused, you ask, "what's up?" she pulls out that small box you saw earlier. "oh, nothing.." she walks in front of you, then dips down onto one knee.

you gasp. is this really happening? right here right now?? someone pinch me.

"y/n, you've made me the happiest woman on earth for the past 3 years we've been together. not to mention the first 4 of us being friends. now, i'm not gonna give a long, sappy speech during this amazing moment," she slightly chuckles, "but i want to ask you.. will you be my wife?" she opens the box, a shiny ring glistening in the light.

you can't see it that well since tears well up in your eyes. you could've never asked for anyone better than abby. she's made you a better person overall. she's been there for you, even in your darkest times. you nod, wiping your tears.

she's slightly chuckling, which you don't realize until your eyes clear. it's.. a minecraft ring. specifically a minecraft rose on a thick band of gold. you laugh and let her slide it on your ring finger.

"i'm sorry," she's still giggling as she gets up from the floor, "i saw this while i was out and i was like 'this is perfect.'" you're also giggling, "it is perfect. thank you, baby."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

a/n: abby's such a jokester! anyway hope u guys enjoyed this took forever!

taglist: @unicycl @xnoviee @aouiaa @akenosimp167 @njplatesruler [if you're striked out, i can't tag u!! :(]

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

PREACHERS DAUGHTER- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Best Friend! Peter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: you and peter were complete opposites, you the goodie two shoes preachers daughter, him the bad boy next door. yet fate has pulled the two of you together, and you can’t help but feel a certain lust for him.

Warnings: ORAL (fem), teasing, kissing, marking, pet names, best friends falling in luvvv, swearing, weed involved, booze mentioned, praise kink, masturabtion mentioned, lotsss of dirty talk, peter blowing smoke into reader mouth

based of the album- preachers daughter, by ethel cain

It was mesmerizing- the way his fingers moved. 

You felt as if you were under a trance, the watch on the chain swinging back in forth in front of your eyes, hypnotizing you. 

His rings, silver and shining in the pale moonlight the clock hands, the veins that ran up his wrists acted as the numbers that blurred together after some time. 

Each component drew you in as his fingers strummed each string, moving up and down the fingerboard to play each chord, a sweet melody emerging from the instrument. 

Your mind was far, far off from the homework you swore to yourself you would be doing tonight, despite having your best friend over. You knew you couldn't focus on anything but him, yet you let him slip through your window, with the cracked and peeling paint you refused to paint over- because you and Peter were the reason for its damage. 

You refused to change anything he had touched or wrecked, whether that be the broken dresser handle that was hanging on for dear life, or the jumble of photos the two of you had pasted on your walls while drunk out of your minds.

 They looked awful, all crooked and cluttered to fuck, but you didn’t touch them. 

Refused to. If Peter placed them there, that's where they stayed. 

You looked up at them now, gaze focusing on the smiling faces that stared back at you, that watched over your every move- in a comforting sense. Their presence lingered, as you peered back over to Peter, following the sound of strum from the strings, the sound coming to a screeching halt as he suddenly fished for something in his ripped jean pocket. 

He was so beautiful when he was concentrated. 

The subtlety bite of his lip, pearly whites tugging on the flesh with a sense of urgency as his jaw would clench. The way his messy, slightly ruffled russet hair would fall in front of his eyes, rings glimmering as he slid his hand through the locks to push it back into place. 

You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wanted to tug on them to make him hiss in pleasure, the way he did the one night he had decided to use your thighs as a pillow. Peter's reaction was tenuous, a slight growl escaping from the cage of his clenched teeth.

 You noticed, though. You always noticed, when it came to him. 

“Bunny? You want one?” he asked softly, pre-rolled in blunt twirling between his large fingers, making you stare in awe. 

“Bun?” 

Oh shit, you were staring. 

“N-no Pete it’s okay. I’m good for now.” you smiled, a heat rising to your cheeks as you forced yourself to stare back down at your tattered notebook filled with scribbles and numbers you had no clue what to do with.

 It was better than looking at his fingers and getting caught again. 

Anything was. 

“Alright pretty but you let me know if you want one okay? Your asshole of a father won't find out, if that's what you're worried about.” he chuckled softly, throwing you a wink as he toyed with the drug, a cat with its dinner.

 Of course that's what you were worried about. You were the minister's daughter, a holy saint if there ever was one. The good girl, your father's little angel. 

We have a reputation to uphold Y/L/N. Don't mess it up, or there'll be consequences. Big ones. 

You had followed his words as he did with passages in that dog-eared bible of his, the rosemary beads sprawled out as a bookmark for his pages. 

So, how in the world did Peter Parker- the boy wrapped in sin your father warned you about, end up as your best friend, the man you trusted with your life? You didn't know, but you were thankful for it. 

It made you laugh every time Peter offered you a smoke, he knew your answer had never changed, yet he always offered anyways. He was sweet that way. It was different with weed, you supposed. 

You were always terrified your father would be able to see right through you, be able to sniff the drugs on you like a hound dog. You made excuses for booze. 

Your father provided red wine during Sunday services, the blood of the lord for all to taste, cannibalism in its cleanest, purest form. Counting on two hands the number of times you and Peter had snuck into the old, gothic church your father managed, getting drunk off the wine in the wooden pews under the stained glass windows was impossible. 

You watched as Peter leaned his guitar against the windowsill, grabbing a lighter from his other pocket, the snake tattoos curled and wrapped along his finger seeming to hiss at you in the dim light of your room. 

“Peter?” you called, making his head snap up, the fire from his light diminishing as fast as it came. “C-can I light it for you?” you asked shyly, watching as that boyish grin that you loved so much came to his face, dimples appearing as he took you in, realizing you were serious. 

“You wanna be an angel and help me out eh?” he teased, making you nod frantically. 

Angel. 

The words alone had your toes curling in your thigh-high socks you knew Peter adored, his fingers always seeming to toy with the little black bows whenever he got the chance. He towered over you even more than he already did as he stood, making his way over to where your body was lounging on the ruffled white sheets. 

“Dad’s not home ya know. I forgot about that.” you tugged on your inner cheek, watching as Peter dropped to his knees before you, like a devil about to spread its wings. 

Begging for mercy before you. 

“Does that mean you do wanna hit then?” he asked, blunt between his teeth as your thumb flicked the flame to life, watching the blues and oranges crackle as you lit his joint. 

“Don’t know how.” you shrugged, watching as he exhaled, the sweet sickly smell of weed filling your senses as he exhaled.

 “We can try something if you want bunny. D’trust me?” You nodded, eager to obey his commands. He smiled, rings cold against your chin as he grabbed it lightly, the pads of his fingers slightly calloused from the strings. 

“Say ahh bunny.” You opened your mouth widely, the smoke he had inhaled floating into your mouth as he exhaled, fogging up your lungs. He was so close you could hear the thud of his heartbeat, could feel the soft heat rolling off him in waves to soothe you in a gentle embrace. 

“Atta girl!” he laughed as you felt the sticky taste coat the back of your throat, mouth turning dry as the Saraha.

 “Peter this tastes like shit.” you groaned, coughing and sputtering as he gently slapped your arm. “No swearing. Or else I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” he teased, making you burst out in laughter as he rolled onto the bed, smooshing your lower half with his bodyweight- making you groan as his head lolled. 

You felt your skin warm to the touch with how close he was to you, your legs parted slightly so he could wedge his way between them and rest on you. 

“I gotta do my homework silly.” you smiled as he took another puff, his eyes turning a fair shade of red as he watched the smoke slither upwards.

 “I can be your study buddy if ya want.” 

“I’d get no work done if you were my study buddy. You distract me too much.” you teased, giggling as his hand reached over to tickle your thigh gently. “We’d make such a great team. We could be on the mathletes together bunny.” 

You rolled your eyes at his sly commentary, a hand slipping through the soft, messy tumbles of his hair as he sighed in happiness. Nails began to scratch his scalp soothingly, and his chest began to rumble- purring like a cat as you tended to him. 

Just as you wanted. 

The curtains rustled in the breeze that snaked through the cracked window goosebumps appearing on your bare skin as the papes blew. You looked out through the glass, scoping out the graves that surrounded your house. 

You could map out the entire cemetery as you had lived in this old, creaking house your entire life- could picture every little twisted path and old rusting benches that were scattered. It was peaceful here, the only real company consisted of the ghosts and Peter when he came over to visit. 

Your father was never really present, too busy with the works of the church than his own flesh and blood.

 It was an easy silence between the two of you, one you enjoyed immensely. It was different than the other silences you had dealt with in your lifetime- long and uncomfortable. With Peter, they were pleasant and easy, a place where you could be in your own thoughts and not feel bad about it. 

You were lost in them now, as you looked down at him. 

He’s never looked so beautiful. How did I get so lucky- to score him as my best friend? 

Continuing your head scratches, you let your head lull against the headboard, closing your eyes to tune out the world. He continued to smoke, hand resting on your thigh with each inhale. 

“You got somewhere I can put this angel?” he asked, hand waving as he gestured to the stump of the blunt, the weed diminishing. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, the hands on the clock hoping forward since the last time you had looked over at them. 

“Over there is fine.” you pointed to the little dish on the dresser you had left for him whenever he was over, degrading it whenever your father returned home. 

You didn't comment on how much Peter had smoked, just as you didn't comment on how much whisky your father drank whenever he got mad. 

You didn't care enough. 

He shuffled up, puffing the remainder towards you, the smoke cascading around your cheeks, tickling your eyelashes as the old bed creaked. 

“You’re such a doll, you know that?” You smiled. 

“Maybe. It's not like you tell me allll the time or anything.” you teased, poking fun at how sweet he was to you. No one was as ever kind to you as Peter was. It made your insides tingle, made your skin all sensitive to the touch. 

He smiled that cheeky grin that drove you wild, tapping the ash into the dish before he crushed it with his fingers, rings glittering in the soft candlelight. Your homework was long forgotten at this point, your attention solely focused on the beautiful angel of a man that stood before you at the foot of your bed. 

“Hi.” you waved to him, his hand raising to wave back from across the room. 

“Hi bunny.”

 “Cmere.” you insisted, and he smirked as he crawled onto the bed, the look in his eye hungry as he took you in. You looked at him now, really looked at him as his strong arms slid to each side of you, caging you in his hold. 

He was black and blue, the beautiful melancholy shades in between. The way he loved was different than anything you had experienced before. It was scary, a freefall into the depths of the icy water you were scared to tread. But it was numbing- the way he cared. 

A soft and sweet energy, that pricked you gently like pins and needles. His breath was warm as he refused to break eye contact and you wanted to shrink into the depths of the mattress as you felt yourself cave. 

“I bet you taste so good.” he confessed softly, his words making you shudder with delight. 

You knew where this was going. It was heading down the old beaten path the two of you had stumbled down so many times, when you were both drunk off sin in the walls of the church. 

You liked it. 

“Yeah?”

 “Yeah angel. Mmm god I think about tasting you all the time, your skin, your lips, your fingertips..” he trailed off, head dropping down to your chest, rubbing his nose against the skin of your collarbone. 

You felt your hips wriggle, wetness seeping into your panties. “What do you think they taste like?” you sighed as his teeth gently grazed you, biting into your flesh to mark it as his own. 

“Like cinnamon n sugar. So. Fuckin. Sweet.” he kissed your neck between each word as you gigged softly, his plump lips making you squirm. 

“You’re so addicting baby. The things I wanna do to you…” he smirked, licking a stipe where your silky nightgown dipped, revealing the slight curve of your breasts. 

Heels were dug into the ruffled sheets, the sound of your books falling to the hardwood below echoed as the strong breeze brushed you again. No amount of wind could chill the fire that was burning in your veins right now. 

“But we can’t do them. Cause we’re best friends.” you pouted, running your fingers along the back of his neck, curving them around to trace each vein that pulsed as he shivered. 

“Who says?” he whispered, like he was in a trance, and you felt your dress being pushed up, up, up to pool around your waist, your stomach exposed as his head dipped down towards it. 

“Best friends do everything together bunny. Don't you think about me like I think about you?” he asked mischievously and you nodded frantically.

 “Mmm sometimes.”

 “Cause I think about you alll the time. Think about how good you’d be for me when I’m strokin my dick.” he confessed, shuffling down to trail kisses across your stomach, your legs spreading wider as he found his home between them. 

“Y-yeah?” you whimpered, heart beating so fast you heard the blood racing in your ears, his voice sounding distant. It was hard to focus, but at the same time it was hard to focus on anything but him. 

The human body was a funny thing, sometimes. How yours could bend and contract to his will at the whisper of his voice, at the touch of his skin.

 “Mmm yeah. You make me wanna do such bad bad things. But you’re too sweet for that.” 

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

“Peter-” 

“Can I tase you? Please? Just a lil lick, I swear.” 

You moaned at his words alone. How did they sound so sweet, so innocent when there was so much filth behind them? You could never say no to him.

 Never. 

“Please.” you urged, the chill breeze making you tremble as he removed your thong, your knees bent slightly over his shoulders. It happened in a blur, time seeming to jump and snap back again as he had you under his thumb, hanging onto every word he said. 

The first lick sent you into overdrive, body shifting up gears as you crude out his name- hands tugging at his strands of hair as if they were reins. The faint scent of weed trickled through your nose, blemishing your skin and sweat as it trickled. 

You couldn't think. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. 

You and Peter had fooled around before but this…this was new territory. And it felt good. A lick turned into a taste as you heard him growl, tongue stroking through your sensitive folds again. 

“You- you said just a taste-” you panted out, hips thrusting against him as he chuckled.

 “I lied. You should've known.” he teased, eyes meeting yours again- stare so intense you had to look away. 

It was frightening- the eye contact. It was an endless void, a freefall you weren't sure if you'd have a hand to catch you. It was filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, a haziness that made you feel sluggish, like you had drank too much cheap booze, and smoked too many cigarettes. 

You were as breathless as the summer's night outside as he dived back in, malnourished and needy as he devoured you. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking it sweetly as you wethered and moaned. 

“So so sweet…” he murmured. You felt yourself snap under him as his tongue pushed you over the edge, releasing onto his face as you cried out. His hands tightened their grip around the barricade of your thighs, chin gleaming with your juices as your body shuddered from the aftershocks. 

“That's a girl. My sweet sweet angel.” he sang out, shuffling up to kiss your lips gently, the taste of yourself staining your mouth. You savored his affections, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperate for something to cling to. 

You were scared to let him go, scared he would leave you vulnerable and open like all the others. He sensed your hesitation, rolling over to the side of you, nuzzling his head into your neck as you continued to hold him close. 

“Was I good?” you asked meekly, your biggest fear not being enough for him. 

He just smiled. 

“More than good. The best.” he whispered, kissing your skin. You exhaled a sigh of relief, tension seeping from your bones as you cradled him. 

You heard an owl coo out from the branches of the old oak tree that scratched your house, the wind howling against the old siding. You basked in the emptiness of the room, no one here but the two of you and the peeling posters that peered down at you from the walls.

 He wasn't leaving you. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed and he was staying with you. He wanted to do this. 

It was hard to think about, hard to wrap your head around it as you had been so shameful of your desires towards him for so long. The old wooden cross that was hung above your bed seemed almost mocking as it reflected in your vanity mirror, a symbol of overcoming sin now with a meaning diminished. 

“You awake?” you asked Peter softly, ripping your eyes from the wood, knowing your father's words would haunt you the longer you were left to your own avail.

 There were so many responses you wanted to spew out to him. 

God loves you- but not enough to save you. 

But you didn’t, to save yourself the abuse of his wrath. 

“Mmm.” he mumbled sleepy, the weed putting him a place of serenity and calm as he synced his breathing with yours. “Did you want me to return the favor?” you mumbled, feeling bad he didn't get the same opportunity you did. 

He just shook his head. “Another time angel. Let me just… lie with you. I like when I just get to be with you like this.” he yawned, bed creaking as he slung his arm around your waist to pull you closer.

 “Okay. Whatever you want.” 

Silence. 

You sighed, flexing your feet, then pointing your toes. The red polish glimmered as the shadows of the wax dripping off the candles bounced off the walls, the smell of the incessant to “hide” the weed smelling of sandalwood. 

A truck rumbled in the distance, its tires rolling against the gravel. Peter sat up, eyes flickering to the headlights that beamed towards the house, making you feel anxious as you clung to the bedsheet. 

Was your father home early? He wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night, and you knew if he walked in on you and Peter- you’d never hear the end of it. 

“Is he home?” Peter shook his head as he moved towards the window, and you readjusted your nightgown. His hair was messy and rumpled as he stood, hands resting on the windowsill as he peered down.

 A grin was on his face as he turned back to face you, your heartbeat slowing its dangerous pace with an exhale. 

He wasn't home. Or else Peter wouldn't be smiling. 

“Well? Who the hell is at my house at-” Your eyes flickered back to the clock. “Eleven at night?” 

Peter just shrugged, a cheeky look on his face as he walked towards the bedroom door, grip on the brass handle tightening as he swung it wide open. 

You heard the front door open, two familiar voices echoing from down the hallway. 

Bucky and Steve. 

“Look who decided to pay us a visit!” Peter laughed, making you shake your head with a smile. 

Look who decided to visit indeed. 

[lordsukunas]

tldr: bf!yuuji being needy for kisses. please give him a kiss.

cw: none! a buncha fluff ft. protective yuuji moment. megumi cameo (dont ask why). also black-coded!reader !!

a/n: can yall tell i rly like bf!yuuji... its getting outta hand atp, i have like two or three drabbles for him in my drafts, but this might be the only one making it out of there (i have way too many drafts... :p) anyway, hope yall enjoy this lil snippet

“hey.” poke.

“hey, baby.” poke.

“heyyyyy–”

“yuuji,” you huff, but there’s that familiar smile on your face that just makes his grin grow, revealing pearly whites. “i’m tryna read.”

he looks up at you from where his big head is resting on your thighs, and his fingers play with the fabric of your shirt. his shirt, really. “did you give me a kiss today?”

you flip the page. “i did. i gave you one when we went out to eat for breakfast,” (he remembers that because you tasted like maple syrup and strawberries) “and during lunch after i got beat up by maki.” even after five hours and a melted icepack, the bruise on your ass still hurts.

yuuji’s lips curve downward into a little pout. clearly, he was trying to catch you off guard, which was dumb. you’re never gonna miss his scheduled kisses.

“mmm, okay...” he taps his chin in exaggerated thought. “buuuut did you give me one this evening?”

this evening? that’s new.

you place your bookmark in between the pages and set your book down. finally, you’re looking at him, brow raised with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “oh, so we’re doing dinner kisses now?”

a light red dusts his tan cheeks, but he nods. “well... yeah.” a beat. “c’mon, baby, i jus’ want one!” big caramel eyes peer up at you, lips puckered ever so slightly for a kiss.

the sight is adorable, and the part of you that never wants to deny yuuji anything is practically screaming for you to give him that kiss. on the other hand, the little devil on your shoulder is telling you to keep teasing him a little.

unfortunately for your boyfriend, you’re feeling a bit cheeky right now. and you maybe, just maybe want payback for him letting you get your ass beat by maki.

“okay, but if i give you one now, i can’t give you one before curfew.”

yuuji’s jaw drops like you just told him the world’s ending, and he shoots upright, his body twisting on his bed to properly face you. “what?! no, please! that’s not even fair. y’know i need it, otherwise i can’t sleep good and fushiguro gets all mad at me.”

you shrug, barely fighting back a smirk. “then you gotta pick. you either get a kiss now or later. i only have three kisses per day.”

“only three?! babe, tell me you’re not–”

there’s a loud thump against the wall that yuuji’s bed is pushed against, and both of you freeze, his arm shooting out in front of your body.

“can the both of you shut up?” megumi’s voice is muffled, but the irritation in it is crystal clear.

immediately, yuuji’s arm drops and the tension drains out of your bodies. he sighs. “sorry, fushiguro.”

you might have heard a grunt of approval before it falls quiet again, the faint chirping of crickets and the familiar hum of his fan in the background. your boyfriend is still giving you the puppy-dog eyes, practically batting his dark lashes. “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?”

ugh. you’re never gonna win — he’s too cute! plus, megumi is a little scary when he acts like an angry mom.

“fine, c’mere.” you cup his face, bringing his soft pink lips closer to yours. your lips touch, and a burst of energy rushes through you as yuuji places his hands on your hips.

after a few long moments (because heaven knows you can’t help but get a little greedy with him), you pull away, a small grin on your face. “there. is that enough to tide you over until curfew?”

“nope,” he says, and leans right back in for another kiss. you move your head to the side, so instead of connecting with your mouth, his lips press to your cheek.

you tsk, theatrically wagging your finger, which earns a snort from yuuji. “now you’re definitely not getting another kiss. needy self.”

“what?! it’s not my fault you taste good!”

“maybe you just needa have more self-restraint.”

he huffs. “how am i supposed to have self-restraint when it comes to you? that’s like telling a bee not to make honey!”

oh.

heat rushes to your cheeks, and you’re glad it doesn’t show when you blush. how is your boyfriend so unknowingly good with words?!

you pinch his cheek and pray he doesn’t notice the slight strain in your voice. “whatever. let me finish reading, and maybe i’ll think about giving you a kiss before bed.”

“if you finish reading early, do i get extra kisses?” yuuji hands you the book, grinning.

“gotta think about it.”

surprise surprise — he ends up getting extra kisses.

[misspearly1]

Ohhh the fluffff!!! It’s so good! 🥰🥰🥰 I love how sweet and soft Frankie is here. And again, I love the way you write the reader character. This was yet another fabulous story!

Ice Cream

Frankie Morales x reader

Summary: The guys want Frankie to move on, but he doesn't believe anyone would want him. Maybe you can make him change his mind?

Notes: A huge shout-out and much love to @pascalslittlebrat for helping me with this one and @yespolkadotkitty for beta reading ❤

Warnings: Insecurities, pining/yearning, sexual innuendos, kissing, fluff.

Words: 2253

Jealousy. That would be the word coming to mind, as Frankie sees Santi talking to yet another beautiful woman at the bar. Will and Benny sitting beside him, timing him. Picking up girls has always been Santi’s forte, slowly turning into a game of how fast he can get them to say yes.

When he finally gets up and the beautiful woman follows him to the bathroom, he smirks over his shoulder at the guys.

“40 fucking seconds! Must be a new record.” Benny sounds impressed, smiling towards the bathroom.

“Nah… Seen him do it in 20 seconds once” Frankie counters, trying not to sound bitter.

The others were excited for their friend, but Frankie can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Never been much of a ladies man, always been a little insecure. Especially after Lori packed her shit and left him alone with a two-year-old.

*

When Santi returns from the bathroom, it’s with a shit eating grin on his face. Sitting down, he sips his beer, looking at the others. “So… When are you guys getting into the game?”

“I think my girl would hate that” Will smiles softly.

“And you know I can’t compete with either of you.”

They all look at Frankie. He doesn’t even look at them, just fiddles with the label on his beer. Santi scoots closer, putting an arm around his friend.

“Come on, Fish. You get girls… Okay, maybe not in 40 seconds. But you get 'em.”

Frankie looks up and flips him off. “Pendejo.”

But all Santi does is smile, squeezing Frankie’s shoulders gently. “Any woman would be lucky to have you. And you should definitely get back in the game.”

There is a sudden silence between them, Santi moving into sensitive territory. Benny senses the tension and moves closer to Frankie, trying to soften the situation.

“It… It’s been almost two years, Frankie. We just want to see you happy again, that’s all."

Frankie just nods, emptying his beer. He looks down, before getting to his feet.

“I… I’ll go get another one.”

“Fish-” Santi tries, but Frankie is already walking towards the bar, ignoring him. As he reaches the bar, he sits down, exhaling sharply.

“Having a rough night?”

He looks up into the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. Immediately interested, he smiles softly, even if that little voice tells him he doesn’t have a chance.

“Yeah, something like that…”

You’re instantly captivated by the deep, smooth voice of the stranger next to you. His beautiful eyes are soft yet filled with… hurt? Insecurity? Not sure you even have a chance with a man as beautiful as him, you still ask him softly;

“Wanna talk about it?”

The look he gives you sends shivers down your spine. Like he is gazing into your soul, maybe to see if you really mean it.

“Nah, don’t want to bother you with my problems, querida, but thanks,” he says with a sigh before he turns to the bartender and orders a new beer.

Afraid to push your luck, you try again. “Honestly, I got stood up, so you’d do me a favor,” you chuckle lightly, as his eyes move to you again. “Keeping me company before I go home and watch bad tv alone”.

Frankie can’t believe it. Is this really happening? Does this beautiful woman actually wanna talk to him? Her smile and the way she looks at him, makes him feel that she could actually be interested. He turns towards her.

“Well… My friends are pushing me to move on. I… My wife left me two years ago.”

“And you’re sad because you don’t want to move on?” you try softly.

Frankie smiles as he looks into her eyes. Thinking that he might as well be honest since he probably doesn’t have a chance anyway.

“No, I… I have a kid. Complicates things. Plus,” he fiddles a little with the label on the bottle, biting his lip, before he looks into your eyes again, ”I’m too old for anyone to want me.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Does this beautiful man next to you not know how attractive he is? The small curls at the nape of his neck, begging to be played with. His full kissable lips begging to be kissed. His deep chocolate eyes. The small dimple on display, even at the faintest smile.

If only he knew the effect he had on you. The effect he must have on every woman he comes across.

“I wouldn’t call you old. What’s your name?”

“Francisco. Ehm, friends call me Frankie.”

You lean a little closer, smiling at him. “Frankie, I’m sure a lot of women would love to get to know you. You just don’t see it.”

He smiles softly, that cute dimple on display again.

“Maybe you’re right… ehm?” he pauses, as he silently begs for your name.

As you say your name, Frankie repeats it. Trying it out. He likes it, smiling a little wider. He extends his hand and when you take it, all he can think about is how soft your skin is against his. How small your hand is in his. You lean in closer, almost whispering.

“There are three men staring at us. Friends of yours?” you giggle softly, a cute sound that instantly makes Frankie’s heart flutter.

“A Latino and two blondes?”

When you nod, he huffs softly, looking into your eyes with a grin on his face. “Yeah, that’s my friends. Probably thinking I’m hitting on you and waiting for me to fail miserably.”

He laughs in defeat, thinking that he has a snowball's chance in hell with a beautiful woman like you. Should have just gone back to the table, save himself the humiliation.

But then your face changes. A mischievous smile forming, you look into his eyes.

“You know,” you start, “I was gonna go home alone and eat some ice cream… watch a bad scary movie… You wanna join me?”

For a second feels as if time stands still. Did he hear you right? Did you just invite him home?

You look at him, as silence falls between you. He looks taken aback, which just makes you like him even more. His insecurity is endearing, and you bite your lip, smiling softly at him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks. ” Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you shrug your shoulders, smiling, “I would get some company and you could lie to your friends and tell them whatever you want.”

You just smile at him gently, as he takes in your words. Whether it’s from shock or because he’s just not interested, you don’t know. But your heart, beating faster, tells you how much you hope he says yes.

“So. You wanna go? No funny business, I swear. Just crappy tv and ice cream.” Your smile is beautiful, and Frankie feels his heart beat faster. A sudden wave of nervousness washes over him, but he still gives you a small smile and nods. You both stand and as you walk towards the door, the guys are shocked, their jaws almost dropped to the floor.

“Did… Did that just happen?” A smirk slowly graces Santi’s face.

Benny laughs, looking at the door as Frankie disappears with the woman. ”Sure did.”

You open the door to your apartment, and you thank all possible gods for cleaning before you left for your failed date. Frankie walks in behind you and instantly his phone buzzes. When he looks at the screen, he just smiles and laughs softly. The sound is wonderful and it makes your stomach flip.

“The boys?” you ask softly.

“Yeah. Wanting to know everything.” A small smirk forms as he looks up into your eyes. Fuck, could he get anymore gorgeous?

“You should wait with a reply until morning. Really give them something to talk about,” you giggle as you make your way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you look at him again.

“So… I have chocolate, chocolate chip, strawberry and pistachio. What tickles your fancy?”

Frankie swears for a second his heart stopped beating. The smile you gave him is the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. Fuck, would it be a cliché to say your smile lights up your face? Hell, the entire room?

He smiles softly and walks closer, feeling his palms get sweaty. He shouldn’t be this nervous. He’s a grown ass man, for God’s sake.

“How about all of them?” he counters.

You smile before taking all the flavors out of the freezer. Frankie steals a glance at your ass as you bend over to get the ice cream. He catches himself staring and quickly looks away before you turn around, afraid to get caught.

He reminds himself that you said no funny business, but as you turn and give him another smile, vibrant and happy, he can’t help but think how hard he has to fight himself to keep his hands to himself.

You can’t help but notice the way he looks at you. You try to supress the growing feeling of butterflies in your stomach, as you make your way towards him, setting the ice cream down on the counter.

“Bowl’s are in the cabinet behind you.”

When Frankie turns to get the bowls, you can’t help but look him up and down, quickly. A nice little ass and a broad strong back. You smile to yourself, finding it hard to deny the attraction.

You open the drawer and get the spoons, before nodding towards the couch. As you make your way to your living room, you smile at the beautiful man beside you.

“So, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

The first part of the movie, you learn a little about the man beside you. Ex-military, working as a mechanic, trying his best to be a good father to his daughter. For every word, you feel yourself falling a little harder for him.

You look over at Frankie, seeing some ice cream on his bottom lip. Without thinking, you reach out and gently caress his lip with your thumb, swiping away the ice cream. Frankie looks into your eyes.

“You… had a little something-”

Frankie swallows a huge lump and stares deeply into your eyes. He then leans forward and plants a soft, quick kiss on your lips. As he pulls away, you smile softly, surprised by the kiss.

Frankie realizes what he did and clears his throat.

“Ehm… You have more chocolate over there?”

“yep.”

You bite your bottom lip and put the container closer to him. He takes some ice cream and smiles at you, as he licks the chocolate off the spoon. You swallow hard, eyes flickering to his lips and back at his eyes, feeling yourself grow flustered at the thoughts of his tongue running through your head.

He couldn’t help but notice how your eyes widened when he licked the spoon. If only you knew what he would rather have done. He could already feel himself harden at the thought, but he won’t do anything tonight. This is the best thing that’s happened to him in years, and he won’t risk it by moving too fast.

You both look back at the screen, suddenly finding it harder to concentrate on the movie.

Frankie slowly puts his arm on the backrest, silently inviting you to lean in closer.

You’re quick to follow, wanting nothing more than to be closer to Frankie. As you come closer, your heart beats faster. He is so warm and inviting, you can’t help but nuzzle closer. You hold the small bucket of ice cream between you, as he scoops up some of it.

“Tell me more about yourself, Frankie," you prompt.

And he does. The minutes quickly turn into an hour, the movie long forgotten and the ice cream already melted. But neither of you care. You haven’t left his side, listening, his deep voice captivating you.

His hand softly caresses your arms, not wanting to let you go, as he gets to know you better. Now and then, there’s a comfortable silence, none of you say anything. Just enjoying each other’s company.

But then he shifts a little, turning his body slightly towards you. When you look into his eyes, he could swear his heart skipped a beat. He gently cups your cheek, his pulse quickening.

“I… I really want to kiss you again… Can I?”

You nod softly, afraid your voice would fail you if you tried to speak. Frankie closes the distance between you, pulling you towards him. When your lips finally meet, for a second, all that exists are his lips against yours. His mustache tickles you slightly, but you don’t mind. In fact, your entire body is begging for more.

You place a hand on his chest, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt, willing him closer to you.

Frankie deepens the kiss, wanting more. Already addicted to the feeling of your soft, plump lips against his. HIs entire body is tingling with excitement, your touch like small bolts of lightning. He wants more, so much more, but he stops himself. It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this and he’s afraid of ruining it.

He pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. He exhales sharply, overwhelmed.

“Too much?” you ask him softly, nothing but love and understanding in your voice.

“Yeah, but still not enough.”

He chuckles, relieved. You’re everything he could have wanted and more. Maybe this could really be the start of something new.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging a few people: @lucy-sky @pascalnerdery @pascalslittlebrat @yespolkadotkitty @loverhymeswith @a-reader-and-a-writer @mindidjarin @chasingdreamer @wardenparker @sherala007 @songsformonkeys @221bshrlocked @bison-writes @fan-of-encouragement @pilothusband @wyn-n-tonic @thirstworldproblemss

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hi honey! How are you? It’s my birthday today and I have the birthday blues :’) I feel very lonely, unloved and very scared to grow up tbh. Could I request a fluffy fic with James or Sirius to cheer me up a little bit and make me feel loved? If you have too much requests it is totally fine, just ignore this :)

happy birthday my darling! i’m sorry you have the birthday blues :( i’m going with both of them in a kinda poly!situation except there’s no remus i hope you don’t mind!!

sirius knows the emotions well- the weirdness that settles in your chest that comes from growing a year older, from knowing that you’re changing and could possibly outgrow the people you love.

james identifies with the ‘wanting to make it not so heavy’ part and he goes all out.

you’d sounded so down on the phone that your boyfriends just had to do something on top of what they’d already planned.

james filled the tub and set a glittery mint bath bomb in, while sirius emptied out your favourite takeout in your special bowl and filled your cup with peach iced tea.

“i’m home boys,” even your voice sounds done. sirius coos as you step into the flat and you try for a smile.

“we got you some things, and before you protest you did tell jamie to save his spending for birthdays, anniversaries and christmas.”

that pulls a little smile from you. “here’s mine first.”

sirius gifts you two boxes, one bulky and one thin. you open the little one first and find a dainty heart locket laying on a chain.

you’d been eyeing a locket for the longest time, “flip it over,” on the back are his initials and james’.

“siri,” you’re water logged. he kisses your cheek just as james comes out to the foyer.

“angel, wait for mine!” you giggle wetly as james rushes to the bedroom for his gifts.

his are three boxes stacked on one another.

“do one of james’ and then my last one,” you nod, ripping through two of james’ boxes.

one is a tennis bracelet and the other is a pair of dangly star shaped pearly earrings.

“jamie! i love them,” you kiss his lips.

you hold sirius’ last gift and rip it open carefully. instantly your eyes tear up- it’s two books, the good omens book and a herbalism book that you’d been eyeing for some time.

“sirius, thank you so much,” the boy wipes your tears away and kisses your reddening nose.

“you’re welcome, doll,” he brushes your jaw, “jamie’s last gift goes with this.”

you open james’ last one and tear up even more. it’s a green sprout bookmark.

“you boys spoil me,” they both laugh.

“the time for spoiling is far from over, we set up the bath and we’ve got some movies loaded up and your favourite take out.”

“you guys are the best,” you blubber, pulling them both in for a hug.

“we just love you, angel. so much.”

[snek-panini]

For Binderary Book #2 we have a tiny (letter quarto) book! Here is It's Getting Hard, This Holding Back by @zehwulf (Hi, I asked to bind your fic back in January. Surprise, it's here!). This is for sure one of the cuddliest things I have ever read, and if you want to read something extremely soft and silly and asexual where everyone's favorite angel and demon fail to communicate till the end but it's funny instead of heartbreaking, then oh boy is this the fic for you. It remains a favorite for me and I read it when I'm sad.

I've fallen into the habit with my letter quarto binds of using materials that I already have on hand, and I did the same for this one. The cover paper is a pearly white scrapbook paper that I bought but didn't use in another project, and the spine is actually an off-cut of the platinum silk moire that I bought for binding Persuasion. I like it better on the spine than I did for the Persuasion endpapers; it was really well-behaved, didn't wrinkle or stain, and holds a hinge crease well. I don't know how well it's going to wear but I'd use it in this context again in a heartbeat. It's annoyingly hard to photograph though, as in the pearlescent paper and the metallic silver HTV. This book is so much prettier in person.

More photos under the cut!

Top view showing the ribbon bookmark and endbands. This isn't exactly a short fic at over 13k, but the typeset came out at less than a hundred pages so it was too short for handmade endbands. The blue is pretty though, and it matches the endpapers. Endpapers are scrapbook paper from Joann's (and I got some glue on them but don't look at that part). I bought them for an unspecified project because I thought they were pretty, but I accidentally grabbed an extra sheet. Fortunately you only need one sheet of paper to make endpapers at this size, so I still have a set to do another book with later on. And this bind, being all whites and silvers, desperately needed some color, so this was a good way to do it. The typeset is quite simple compared to a lot of the other ones I do, but I just felt it fit the story that way. I love an elaborate, flourish-y typeset when it fits the story, but this one's more about the core of things and the characters' interior feelings than the exterior obvious motifs. It was tricky to nail an aesthetic without some more overt imagery, but I think the simplicity fits it and I'm proud of this one.

[viviangreeneart]

At The Foot of My Bed

                             

    I stood at the foot of my bed. I was wearing a dark blue suit I didn’t recognize. The material was clearly expensive and well-tailored, hinting to a fit, lean body underneath.  A neat, white handkerchief was folded with care in the suit jacket’s breast-pocket. Staring forward , my green eyes were not the usual unattractive mix of exhaustion and hatred, but of contentment and maybe a little joy. Dark circles, like permanent eye shadow, of which I had grown accustomed to had not claimed these eyes. No, at the foot of my bed, those eyes did not have sagging, purple-grey flesh clinging to the bottom of their sockets like loose, cooked chicken skin. This skin was pink and tight. This me could be in an advertisement for eye cream they looked so damn healthy. Oh, and my scar! Where was that? The right side of his lips were unblemished. Had I never met the enraged man at the bar? Had his class ring that glimmered in the light as it came crashing down on me, snagging my lip and tearing it apart, not existed? Or had I simply not goaded him into a fight to begin with?

  If I had fought the man with this body, I would’ve surely won. I hadn’t lifted any form of weight in decades and a vegetable had not graced my dinner plate in just as long. The body in front of me most likely thrived on a high protein diet with a substantial side of greens. Perfect me smiled warmly, revealing his pearly white, exceptionally aligned teeth. It was apparent he never missed a single dentist appointment. I self-consciously rubbed my tongue against the bottom row of my broken, grey teeth. I felt like Narcissus gazing into the pool, aside from the fact that I did not have the beauty that the me at the foot of my bed possessed.

“Honey,” a ragged, drained voice called out from just outside my bedroom, ripping me out of my visual love affair with Perfect Me.

   “Uh, yeah?” I shifted my body to the left so I could see down the hallway. I could just make out the silhouette of my wife leaning out the bathroom doorway. 

  “Did you lock all of the doors?”

  “Yes, of course,” I sighed. This was part of our routine. I would say yes even I forgot. I could always lock up during my midnight fridge raid.

  “Oh good,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

   My attention returned to Perfect Me. He had only folded his arms during the pointless discourse with my wife. Suddenly a thought occurred to me - what would Tammy think when she saw him? I was still processing this when she ambled into our bedroom, wrapped in her floral house coat. Tammy passed the well-groomed me without a glance, plopping onto the bed next to me. It creaked under her weight as she settled in, shuffling the sheets about. Perfect Me’s eyes followed her movements with palpable endearment. A light smile played upon his lips as he watched her grab a book from her bedside table and open it to where her bookmark had laid snug since the night before.

   I struggled to recall the last time I looked at her with any form of love. Tammy was comforting and sweet in personality, but she was very mundane. I didn’t dislike my wife, but I found no beauty in her, inside or out. However, this undeniably gorgeous version of me, reacted as though Ava Gardner had just sauntered into the room garbed in an extravagant dressing gown. It was perplexing to say the least.

  “You don’t mind if I read for an hour or so, do you?” Tammy asked, eyes already glued to her book.

 “No, of course not,” I replied. I wanted an excuse to keep the lights on anyway. I couldn’t lose sight of Perfect Me. I wanted to speak with him. To ask how and why he looked so good compared to the ghoulish version of me that was hunkered down in a sagging bed next to his mediocre wife. Was he handed better opportunities than me? A better family than the hostile, demanding one I had been presented with? Was he accepted at a proper University instead of the community college I begrudgingly applied to? He certainly had a successful career, as was evidenced by his suit. In this life, I had only rented suits for special occasions. Fortunately, I was rarely invited to any occasion.

  I needed to speak with him, but if I could I only see him, I would look like an idiot speaking to myself. Well, I would be talking to myself. As I struggled to form a plan to communicate with him, I felt the bed sink slightly near my feet. Perfect Me had planted a knee down onto the bed. Too stunned to move, I caught sight of Tammy in my peripheral vision. She was oblivious to Perfect Me’s sudden advancement, with her nose inches away from her book, mouthing the text as she read. Perfect Me then leaned forward, placing his left hand next to my knee. His right hand, which was free of a wedding ring, reached out. Without hesitation, I brought myself upward and gripped his outstretched hand. His flesh was so soft in comparison to the harshness of mine. He must have a job that has been very kind to them, or at very least he moisturizes on a daily basis. My heart swelled as I met his gaze. I no longer cared about the possibility of Tammy looking up to see me holding onto an invisible force. Perfect Me grinned, letting out an easy, melodious chuckle.

  “Would you like to trade?” he whispered.

  My mind went to a story I read in elementary school, the Prince and the Pauper. 

  “Absolutely,” I whispered back.

  “So be it.” His grin widened into a sneer as he yanked me directly into him. 

   Bracing for a collision that never happened, I found myself on my back on the bedroom floor. Sitting up, I rubbed my forehead in an attempt to reorient myself. As I temporarily became distracted by how heavenly my skin felt, an unnatural itch crept throughout my body. I glanced down and saw the expensive suit Perfect Me had worn. It looked so comfortable on him, but on me, it felt like tiny bugs were burrowing their way into my skin. I tugged and pried erratically at the buttons of the jacket to no avail. It was like it was now a part of my skin. Or rather, it was my skin.

  Above, muffled voices broke me briefly from my turmoil. I jerked around and realized I was in front of my bed. Moving to my knees now, I peered upwards. I saw my old self in bed with Tammy. Hideous Me, with the horrific scar and the unfit body. They were deep in conversation. She giggled at whatever nonsense he was spouting. Her book lay abandoned on her lap.

   He pointed to her book and she nodded, giving a him a sugary sweet smile. As her eyes drifted away from him to the book, Hideous Me’s eyes shifted over to meet mine. He winked then returned his attention to my wife. I cried out to her, but could only release pitiful croaks as I fought against my suddenly weakened and dry vocal cords. I banged my fists on the bed as my warnings fell on deaf ears. I doubled over as blinding pain tore through my body. I silently whimpered, as I could no longer create sound. Despite it all, I shakily rose to my feet. Maybe after sometime I could convince whatever I traded places with to switch back. He will eventually regret inhabiting my old, misshapen body with my boring bookworm of a wife. Surely he will, I thought, as I watched him kiss her.

    I stood at the foot of my bed.

[misspearly1]

Oh, I love this! Joel is a man of few words here, but the words that he did speak floored me. "Quiet." That's all he said and oh boy, the way my mouth fell open. 🥵

As expected, this was an incredible story, my love! 💖

Sit Right Here {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cockwarming....that's the warning.

Comments: You have to sit somewhere, right? Why not on Joel's cock.

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

gif by @pedropascalsx

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s different. The blunt tip of his cock not serving as the battering ram against your cervix that it normally is. There’s no brutal thrusts designed to take away all coherent speech and thought. Leaving you only with him in your mind. Leaving you until to do anything more than scream his name and forgets the world - what’s left of it - exists outside of the sagging mattress that comprises his bed. 

Instead, that curved cock is a gentle pressure. Blunt and wide, stretching you open but not moving beyond the throbbing twitches that make you gasp and whimper. Urging you to move and explore the way that every vein and ridge of his thick cock would feel scrubbing against your overly sensitive walls. Instead of moving, he holds himself still inside you. Teasing you with what could be. 

He grunts; the rough, rolling sound of it vibrating through your entire being as if he had just spoken to you. The pressure of his shoulder pushing yours forward slightly as he reaches for the glass of bootleg whiskey that tastes horrible but gets you drunk as it sits just in front of you. Bootleg whiskey is what happens when the old distilleries have long been abandoned, though it makes you wonder if there are any casks left undisturbed. People would pay good money for a twenty year old barrel of Jack Daniels now. 

Eyes closed, you try to control your breathing, just letting yourself sit impaled. It’s hard and he knows it. Acting like he’s not affected at all but every time your walls hug him tighter, you feel the tiny hitch of his breathing. The responding jolt of his cock telling you that he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. 

The rustling of the map makes you lean forward, opening your eyes as you watch a thick finger trace old state routes. Practically hearing the wheels in his mind turning as he plots out the roads least likely to get him killed between here and Wyoming tower. It’s a long and dangerous road, one that you need to plan for carefully and then plan it again for when the first plan goes to shit. 

“Joel.” Your voice is low, almost breathless.

“Quiet.” His voice is just as raspy but it shoots through you. His hips tensing underneath you and you know that he wants to move too. Not that he will. Joel Miller wanted you to sit on his cock and not move and that’s what you’re going to do. 

The ragged piece of skin on your bottom lip snags your tongue, causing you to pull your lip in and chew on it with your teeth. Feeling the pulse of his blood through his cock, merging and meshing with the beat of your cunt around him. Joining you together in a way that you couldn’t explain if you tried. You pull the broken piece of skin free and soothe the raw flesh with your tongue. Satisfied for the moment before the feeling of his cock commands you attention again. 

The noise of the QZ is outside the windows. Faded to a slight din, there but unconcerning. Like it was a normal day in a normal year where the world hadn’t been taken over by clickers. Joel picks up the bottle again, pouring another generous amount of whiskey in his glass and this time it’s you that snatches it up. Hearing his unhappy huff behind you as you place the glass to your lips and swallow the liquid fire down, his cock nudging your cervix again as he pulses. 

It's a lesson in patience and you don’t want to learn it. As good as it feels, you want more. Need it like the FEDRA soldiers need the pills that Joel sells them. Need it like the ration cards you are trying to scrape together to get the car needed to go find Tommy. The glass slams down on the table, a small moan escaping your lips as you bite back the urge to beg him. 

His body curls around you again. Broad, thick, deadly. You’ve seen those hands that reach for the bottle bloodied. Broken on the face of someone who had wrong him, or you. Or just because they had broken through the limited patience he had and prodded the darkness within him to come out. Wrapping around you as he pours himself another drink and pretends not to feel that way your hips are ever so slowly rolling. 

Another drink, then another. All while you are poised on his cock. While your walls flutter around him with the beat of your heart. Steadily thinking, plotting….remembering. You feel the way his body starts to relax, tension draining slightly, looking over your shoulder at the bone deep fatigue in his eyes. The worry, the sadness that is buried down so deep that no one sees it. Except you. 

When he slumps back in the chair, it changes the angle. Making your eyes flutter closed and you try to breathe through it again. Desperately close to the end of your rope and needing friction. Craving the sweet sting of release and the dreamless sleep that normally follows. 

He must think that you are going to move, that you are going to pull off his cock, because his arms wrap around you and drag you back against his chest. The unsteady, hot puffs of air against the back of your neck make you shiver, the scent of alcohol on his breath teasing your nose. 

“SIt right here, baby.” He orders quietly, the tenderness in the strong embrace enough to make you squeeze your eyes harder, trying not to cry at the unspoken sentiment behind it. Words are never needed, they never would come, but you feel it in his touch, his need for this. His need for you. 

Of course you’ll sit where you are. Eventually you will get what you need from him. You always do. For right now, you just relax against his chest and will your body to not move. Giving him the hot, tight confines of your cunt to sheath himself in, to just stay suspended in the moment. 

You will sit right here for as long as he wants you, needs you to. Cock warming was what Joel needs right now and you are very willing to do it for him. 

[marcannethology]

✨ PRODUCTION UPDATE ✨

Check out this double-sided bookmark by @linnyart, it has a beautiful pearly effect; included in both paper and full bundles!

[swelilann]

"...she had a pair of pearly white eyes."

Dear Pearl by SwelilAnn

English Friendship, Heartbreak, Young Love, Pain

--------------------------------------------------

Yuri is a shy kid. He is always the kid who stays in the corner and never talks. He is used to it. It is how he lived his thirteen years of his life. No one is interested in him and his biological parents choose to leave him in an orphanage. But despite his situation, Yuri found happiness in art. He loves to draw, craft, and be creative.

One afternoon, he got bullied again after school. The older kids forced him to give them money. He has no choice but to give his savings that supposedly he will be using to buy new crayons. Success in avoiding physical injuries but he is emotionally exhausted by them. He sat down to take some rest on a rusty bench but before he left to go back home he noticed a piece of paper.

It was a cute pink envelope. It smells like strawberry.

Yuri wondered what it was so he hurried back to the orphanage to see what was inside. He finished his dinner quickly and got first in the bathroom before the others. He has his own room. Small, cramped, and in summer it is a living oven. Excited and curious, he sat down on the floor and checked the envelope. He opened it and a letter was inside.

It has pretty handwriting in black ink. The writer reiterated what happened in their day. They had to do something they didn't like but felt okay after drinking some chocolate drink their mom gave them. It's pretty cute, Yuri thinks. And in the last line a signature of a person named Pearl. He folded the letter and took a clean sheet of paper for himself. He needs to make a reply to Pearl!

He smiled after writing his first reply. He was satisfied with it and planned to leave it on the bench before going to school. Yuri woke up early to get ready. He's hoping that Pearl will reply to his letter. And he was not wrong, after class he found another letter, a reply from Pearl!

They exchange letters for weeks. They started to get to know each other. Pearl likes the color pink. She loves to wear a headband with bows, she sings and her favorite fruit is strawberry. Although they share likes and dislikes, both of them choose to obscure their physical identity. Yet they created a strong friendship through handwritten letters.

Then one day, Yuri's prayers came true. A couple decided to adopt him and he was so ecstatic about it. He happily wrote the good news to Pearl but he didn't receive a reply. His letter was still on the bench. He waited for days, maybe she was busy, so he constantly wrote the things happening in his life until Pearl replied. However, the day of his departure from the orphanage came. He was sad that he wouldn't be writing letters to Pearl so he wrote his final letter of goodbye.

Years passed and now Yuri is preparing for high school graduation. He transferred his last year to another university campus because of his father's work. In his first week, he has a classmate that is familiar to him. The girl has a familiar style, scent, and handwriting but her name is Micah. He confirmed his suspicion when he saw the bookmark he made for Pearl. He was so happy to see and talk with Pearl in real life but the latter was not. Micah was weirded and avoided him until she asked him to talk privately somewhere.

Yuri was glad and they met in an eerie place. He was confused at first but all he wanted was to catch up with her. Micah on the other hand has sadness in her eyes while talking with him. She nervously confessed she was not Pearl but she was the one who wrote for Pearl. Yuri took it as a joke but Micah was serious and led him to a grave where Pearl lies peacefully.

Pearl was diagnosed with eye cancer and she wanted to live her life to the fullest. Micah is Pearl's best friend and asked her to write letters dedicated to their future self. They enjoyed doing it together and decided to leave one somewhere which Yuri found. And it was the happiest day for Pearl when Yuri replied.

Yuri burst into tears after knowing the truth. They promised to meet and see each other but not like this. And for the last time, Micah gave Pearl's last letter to Yuri before she passed away.

Yuri cried and cried. He took another piece of paper inside the envelope. It was a photo of Micah and a girl in a hospital bed…and she had a pair of pearly white eyes.

[gatalentan]

9. shoulder kisses, bonus points if one of them is sitting or standing behind the other when they happen!! ☺️

Soft Prompts: 9. Shoulder Kisses Ship: Melissa/Barbara Melissa wandered back in from the kitchen, drying her hands on her jeans after finishing up the day’s dishes, socked feet thumping on the tile and then sinking into plush carpet. She got to the doorway and found herself pausing, seeing Barbara curled up there on the couch, her back to her, tucked up all snug with Melissa’s blanket around her shoulders. The soft light of the standing lamp illuminated the side of her face, chiselling her carved features even more than usual. So pretty.

She loved seeing her like this, all peaceful, no stress, no worries. Knew how much tension she carried through the day, how hard she worked to maintain her professional persona. And selfishly, it felt good that she could help give some peace to her, to give her a space where she could find a soft landing no matter the situation. A place where she could be entirely herself without judgement, and if all she wanted to do after a shitty day at work was sit and read, well goddamn that’s what Melissa was gonna let her do. She’d have the best damn reading session of her life. Mugs of tea on tap, an easy dinner she could pick at brought straight to her lap, and a nice, quiet, warm place to just be. She’d give her that every day of her life, if that’s what she wanted.  She didn’t wanna disturb her. But it was getting late. 

And she did look, well, like that. All lovely.

She’s only human.

Melissa rounded the back of the couch and sank to her knees to drape her arms around her shoulders, pressing her nose into the soft pocket at the base of her throat. God, she always smelled so damn expensive.

“Hey, pretty lady.” she mumbled into her skin. Barbara huffed a laugh from her nose. She tilted her head and popped a kiss on Melissa’s cheek. “Hey yourself.” “You coming up soon?” “Mm. I guess so. I’ve got-” Barbara flicked a few pages forward, using her thumb as a bookmark, “-about six pages left of this chapter. Then I can come up.”

“Hmm.” Melissa toyed with the pearly top button of Barbara’s blouse, popping it open and laying her hand on her clavicle, nails gently scratching at her collarbone. “You sure about that?”

“Yes, pretty sure.” she laughed again, in the back of her throat, rumbling against Melissa’s palm. She flicked her book back to her original place, ignoring Melissa, but tilting her head anyway to keep her there. “Must be a pretty good book.” She whispered, pulling back a little to press a soft kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder where her blouse had fallen open. “Can we make it two pages?” Barbara tutted, but Melissa could feel her silent laughter against her mouth. “Six.” “Four?” She peppered her shoulder with kisses, spreading up to the side of her neck. “Melissa.” She was fully laughing now, full-throated, giving up on her book entirely, slipping a piece of paper between the pages and slipping her fingers between Melissa’s where they draped around her neck. “How about if I just bring it upstairs, and then we both get what we want?” “Sounds like a good deal to me.” She pressed one last kiss to the crown of her head and moved to pull her up off the couch. “C’mon bookworm.”

[misspearly1]

Oh my... 🥹 Beautiful. Just beautiful.

I saved this story to my drafts a little while ago, fully intending to read and type up my feedback afterwards. Forgive me for how long I have actually taken to do that, but I gotta say now that I've read it, I've been missing out big time.

Oh, the way you wrote Arthur here was so comforting and compassionate, just inserting myself into this story reassures those doubts in my mind that I imagine many of us have/have had before.

This right here is exactly how I would dream of Arthur to remind me how beautiful I am. What better way to do that than making sweet passionate love in front of the mirror?

Your writing is fantastic! I love it. 💖

okay hear me out.... mirror sex with Arthur...

oh god oh god this started as a drabble and got away from me I hope you enjoy sweet anon <3

The Way I See You

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 1861 words

warnings: explicit, minors dni, penetrative sex, cunnilingus , sex in front of a mirror, cursing, smut starts right at the beginning

tagging: @cassidylynnj @inkandbloodbound @cowboydisaster @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdraghehe

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re… you’re so beautiful like this.” Arthur breathes out, looking up at you with lips glistening with his spit and your own arousal. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he speaks, the mixture of the two of you coating your thighs too.

A furious blush takes hold of your cheeks and you instinctively cover your face with your hands, suddenly shy despite the fact that Arthur was lapping you up and down like a starved man only moments ago. You love when Arthur goes down on you, he’s an expert at his craft, really, but the thought of how you look to him from that angle always sends you into your own head, self-conciousness taking a hold of your being. Most of the time, you manage to hold it back, but whenever Arthur comments on your beauty in this state you’re convinced he’s lying. 

“Shut uup.” You whine, the tone coming out bratty as you buck your hips up into his face, wanting him to stop complimenting you and stick his tongue back in your twitching, needy cunt. He’s about to, until he sees you cover yourself up. Both your wrists are taken into his strong hands, making them look even daintier in comparison, and he gently pulls them away from your face.

“Not a chance. You’re beautiful and I’ll never let you forget it. Even if I have to…” Arthur trails off, looking around the hotel room you’d booked for your date night away from the camp. You curiously follow his gaze, wondering where on earth this is going, before you realise he’s staring right at the mirror.

“C’mere.” He slides down the length of you, lifting you up off the bed and walking you to the mirror. You hadn’t gotten onto him yet, Arthur pouncing to strip and go down on you as soon as the door clicked shut, so he is still clothed and presentable, save for the tousled hair and unbuttoned shirt. You, on the other hand, are completely naked. If anything, this only heightens the discomfort, causing you to shuffle on your feet, the woollen carpet of the San Denis saloon brushing against the soles of your feet. 

Arthur towers above you, standing behind you and brushing a hand over your hair, following the cascading curls down your back. His eyes roam over you through the mirror and you swear you hear a little growl rumble his chest when his thumb runs over the curve of your ass. It tickles. You shudder. He chuckles. 

“Look at you… my beautiful girl.”

Every nerve ending feels as though it’s on fire as you stand exposed to yourself. It’s uncomfortable for you and Arthur can tell by the way your legs tense and your nails dig into your arm, leaving little moons in the flesh. 

“Arthur…” you start to protest, but he’s having none of it, snaking a hand up and around your throat to guide your head to the side. You watch him with wide eyes as he places a tender kiss on your neck. You feel his tongue run over your skin, feel his teeth nip and bite as the action becomes thicker in passion. It is the most incredible feeling, so good that you seem to slip out of your discomfort long enough to let out an indulgent moan. This spurs Arthur on, sucking and nibbling until red flourishes under his lips.

Arthur takes your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to crane back to lock onto his lips with yours. He still tastes like you, tangy and sweet and the way he licks your tongue inside your own mouth sends your knees weak. You try to take the opportunity to turn to face him, push him back to the bed and have your way with him, but Arthur shakes his head and you notice just how dark his eyes look when he’s lust-striken beyond belief. 

“Nu-uh, princess. You’re stayin’ right here where I can see ya’.”

“Arthur, I… I can’t.” Your cheeks are back flushed crimson, your fingers intertwining with each other, getting kinda clammy from the nerves.

“Yes, you can.” You don’t have the chance to argue further as two fingers are plunged into you. Your knees almost buckle underneath you, but Arthur bears your weight, expertly fucking you with his fingers, ripping his name from your throat. Your eyes close tight because you really can’t help it, the feeling is so intense. 

You hear the unbuckling of Arthur’s jeans, followed by the thud of denim against the floor. He somehow gets his shirt unbuttoned, his fingers only leaving you when absolutely necessary to pull the sleeve over his arm. By this point, you’re putty in his arms, so drunk on pleasure that you’d let him take you on a plinth in the middle of town if he asked nicely enough. You open your eyes just in time to watch the final piece of clothing, his underwear, slide down his legs. He’s completely bare behind you now, and what a sight the two of you are. Arthur’s soaked fingers run up and down your side, his other hand almost possessively holding your shoulder. You feel safe with him, even if you’re right up against the boundary, and really want to do this, for him if nothing else. 

“Makes me so sad when you can’t see yourself the way I see you, sweetheart.” The pet name is sickly sweet in contrast to the downright sinful acts you’re committing, but you love it. It comforts you.

You’re quiet, not quite sure how to convince Arthur of your point of view anymore as your eyes roam over the pair of you in the mirror. Right now, the wooden frame stands tall in the corner of the room, facing the middle. Arthur approaches the mirror, turning it slightly so it faces the wall a little more. Before you can ask what he’s up to, you’re in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, wet, aching cunt transferring your slick right onto his stomach. He growls again at the sensation, before pinning you against the wall and lining himself up with your entrance. You look down, and the sight of his rock hard cock pulsing less than an inch away from where you need it the most pushes anything and everything from your mind but him. 

“Please, Arthur… I need you.”

It’s all the permission he needs to surge into you, all the way to the hilt, pulling a gasp from your lips. Your foreheads are pressed together, breathing in each other's air as Arthur gives you a moment to adjust to the invasion. You’re coiled up so tight after Arthur has all but edged you since you got to the saloon that those extra seconds feel like lifetimes.

“Right, beautiful. I’m gonna fuck you. Hard. And I want you to watch, okay? Y’think you can do that for me, princess?” 

You bite down on your lip, nodding vehemently. You’d say anything, do anything for him right now, cock drunk out of your mind before he’s even properly started.

“Good girl.” 

And then he pulls back, pounding right back into you. You scream, shutting your eyes tight closed, as if that will help adjust to the intensity. You’re already so close it feels like you’re dancing on the edge after only one thrust, but Arthur is relentless, fucking up into you, moaning and letting a string of the filthiest curses to fall from his lips. His hands grip onto your thighs to support your weight with a bruising grip, one hand reaching up to cup your jaw and force you to face the mirror. 

Remembering your promise, you force your lashes to flutter open and lock eyes with yourself, seeing the whole picture. This beautiful, carnal, visceral picture of you and Arthur intertwined while he spears into you. 

Arthur’s muscles are tense, your weight on him and his insane passion for you pushing his veins right up to the surface of his skin. With each thrust, you can see his cock, absolutely dripping with both of your fluids. Every time he pulls out and you see the whole length of him, you’re sure he’ll never fit back in. But sure enough, every time he hits that sweet spot right and you’re completely full of him. His face is contorted in pure bliss, sucking and nipping on the skin of your shoulder and neck as if his life depends on it. 

He’s art, but you’ve always known that. What you weren’t expecting to see was yourself, looking right back at you, looking… downright ethereal. Wrapped around such a perfect specimen, watching him absolutely worship you… it makes you look like a goddess. Arthur is right, yet again, damn him. 

It’s so hot, watching the way your ass ripples each time Arthur spears into you. Your legs are shaking, your head thrown back in pure bliss as you get closer and closer to that heavenly place only Arthur can take you to. You moan out his name, long and deep, your breath tickling his ear. He breaks free from biting down on your shoulder to look up at you, but you can’t seem to stop watching yourself.

“That’s right, that’s my girl. Y’gonna cum for me, beautiful? Cum all over me while you watch me fuck you? That’s my good girl.”

Almost like he knows it’s a reward, the hand that isn’t gripping into your ass clamps around your neck, squeezing in just the right place to send the corners of your vision funny. It’s everything you need, and before you know it you’re there. As much as you want to watch yourself fall apart in Arthur’s arms, it’s too much and you can’t seem to keep your eyes open. You open your mouth in a tiny ‘o’ as you scream and moan and cry out, Arthur silencing you with a searing kiss. It isn’t long before he’s right there with you, once rhythmic thrusts now erratic and messy. He has to let go of your throat to get a better grip on you, pushing you into the wall so hard the wallpaper burns your back.

It’s white hot, unadulterated pleasure, gushing over every inch of you. You can feel Arthur’s cock pulsing, pumping ropes of his seed deep inside you like a heartbeat. Your hearts are pressed together, pounding against each other as you both reach the peak.

When your eyes open again, when you finally don’t feel as though you’re going to fall off the edge of the earth, Arthur is sliding out of you slowly. You ache in the best way, throbbing as Arthur carries you to the bed. The silky sheets are just what your grazed back needs, Arthur’s lips just what your heart needs to bring you back down. 

You gaze up at him as he hovers over you, feeling the shake of his tired arms around you. He kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, before rolling to the side and pulling you into the most comforting embrace. 

“Love you, beautiful.”

“Love you too, handsome.”

[dulceskull]

Pink Sugar KS Bookmarks!

bookmarks for the kickstarter! I went with a simple design, art from one of the panels in the book. It's also printed on this pearly shimmery cardstock and it came out so cute !!! 

Posted using PostyBirb

[elegyforiphigenia]

THE NECESSITY OF HER FLESH

hush little baby, don’t you cry – don’t you realise? there’ll never be another lullaby. no, baby, don’t you cry – daddy can’t abide it, so:

he rips your gown, gags saffron robes in the screaming gape of lips, bride silenced before her quietus, false bride bridled. there is no diamond ring.

it was written this way: fated by the gods, one might say. cowardly men are parrots, repeating saviour phrases from their lips so agamemnon is absolved.

war trumps women and women bookmark war. daughter slaughtered so daughter might be slaughtered so he might fuck another’s daughter –

is that your victory, shaggermemnon? your lambkin, throat slit, sacrificed to a goddess you wandered at, all for this town, this savagery, this neon weeping.

i hope their blood is the brightness of their city. i hope it stains you glowing so that night never lets you seek refuge. their blood is enriched by the stars –

the stars a child spins across their walls – you ripped the stardust from too many throats – may you never ascend to them. 

iphigenia, i hold you in my arms: it’s flesh i feel, for i am tired of their spiritual excuse. your blood is not silver gold. it’s not wine red.

i will not take the death of a girl in a chalice and drink to good winds. how did it stop disease when the flies are rotting around you?

they consummate the bride. this isn’t the blood that was supposed to weep. and yet – it might as well have be. marriage may be kind…

…or marriage might only be a longer walk to the slaughter. sleepwalking on a pearly noose. isn’t that what some proclaim this war to be?

everything is founded on a woman’s flesh. we possess the most vital sin. weapongiftweapongiftweapongiftweapongiftweapongift.

is that a woman’s body? i believe instead that even if we wield it, it is neither such thing: we are cursed, for in choice, we have none.

our flesh is their necessity. we are not protected by it, whether weapon or gift. iphigenia, i hold your corpse.

 

a goddess plucks you from my arms. the maggots do not crawl round the hasty altar yet. you are still warm when she steals you.

your flesh pulsates boldly, squirming when she lets the blood run raw again: sets it screaming like vengeance throughout.

rumour has it there’s shame in this shaded wood – tell me this, artemis: is a goddess the same as a man, absolved only by his lust?

cowards say you ordained this; they say her flesh is your necessary comeuppance, heaping curse upon daughter for the disgrace of a father.

it seems to happen to all the girls in this twisted lineage of a family – the gods heap it up on a platter as tantalus served up his son.

and even in second-life, you demand her flesh for your own purposes; girl in red, seductress and giver of slaughter. tantalising weapon –

so iphigenia, slaughtered gift, turns the tables in offering to the one who stained her skin crimson. maybe she’s all your puppets.

 

dearest; so she is every man’s deer, and we all feast on her in the end: i sup on her now as i finish this song.

after all, it’s poetic necessity. we’ll keep her dying thrice a night. the necessity of her flesh to fuel ourselves – (i live up to my name).

and yet she is my constant grief. i use her name to spit anger. vehicle of flesh. the windchimes are singing. the song closes here. 

[misspearly1]

This is beautiful! Angsty, raw and painful, but so beautiful and full of emotion. I love it, Lily. Thank you for tagging me, I enjoyed reading this! ❤️

Not now, not yet

Joel miller x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood. I choose to leave out the rest, so I don't spoil.

Notes: I don't know what this is. Barely a drabble, but I had a thought and had to write it.

No spoilers for the show, promise.

Breathing hard, you look around as you try to gather your senses. Everything turned to chaos in a split second when that horde surprised you, coming from every side. Somewhere during your escape, you lost track of the others, but most importantly you lost track of Joel and Ellie.

Frantically you look around, disorientated by everything around you. Guttural growls that should only be in nightmares fill the air, followed by screams of pain and gunshots. Please don’t let it be Joel. It’s selfish to wish another person dead, but they could take anyone, just not Joel.

Leaning against a wall, you slowly pull up your shirt, the worm fabric already painted red. Shit. Not like this. Not now, not yet.You had to find Joel and Ellie.

Whump

The sound is almost soft, but it’s followed seconds later by a blast, the energy enough to knock you over. Fumbling to your knees, you see the cloud in the distance. You try to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion, praying Joel didn’t go that way.

“Oh God.” Your fingers tremble as they reach for the walkie. “Joel?” The line remains silent and you breathe out slowly, trying to hold back the tears. “Joel? Come in, please…”

There’s still no answer, only the white static filling the air, the sound taunting you. Trying one more time, you know how desperate it must sound, but you don’t care. “Joel!”

Perhaps… They weren’t even near the blast. Perhaps they’re still somewhere behind you, battling the infected. Perhaps they’re fine somewhere, nothing but a few bruises. They’re fine. They have to be fine.

With one final look around, you make sure the coast is clear before you move forward. One word keeps circling you mind as you move forward, searching for your group.

Please

The pain shoots through you, making it harder to breathe. The t-shirt is clinging to your skin, hot and sticky. You had to stop the bleeding, you knew that, but you wanted to find them. Had to find them.

It gets harder to walk, each step feeling like dragging your feet through sand. Blinking a few times, you try to focus, vision already getting blurry. Behind you the sound of an infected is drawing near. You have to fight it, its you or it, but you don’t have the energy. Body is getting heavy, but you have to go on. Have to find them. Have to…

“Sweetheart.”

His voice pulls you back, his beard tickling against the sensitive skin of your neck. Opening your eyes, you see the ugly wallpaper of your bedroom, the color so faded you barely can make out the print. An arm tightens around you. His arm.

Turning around, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent. He’s real, he’s there. Shaking, you move closer, impossibly close and Joel just holds you, one hand drawing soft circles on your back. “I… I thought you and Ellie were dead.” You sniffle, moving your head to his chest, the sweet sound of his heartbeat grounding you.

“Yeah, figured as much.” He drawls, his voice thick with sleep, as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. After the last run where you had a close call, you’ve had nightmares almost every night. But every time Joel was there to make it all better again. “We’re okay.” He whispers softly into your hair, holding you close.

“I know.” But still, you wrap yourself impossibly tight to him. You hate to be this vulnerable with him, but you can’t help it. He’s the one thing keeping you sane in this fucked up world. You can’t lose him. Looking up, you see how the moonshine falls on his face, making him even more beautiful. He looks to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. No words are needed, his eyes say it all. He can’t lose you either. And hopefully, he never will.

Tagging: @mindidjarin @misspearly1 @boliv-jenta @itwasthereaminuteago @scorpio-marionette @pedrito-friskito @iamskyereads @lucy-sky @marvelous-world-of-fiction @littlemisspascal @e-dubbc11 @thisishellfire @idrinkcoffeeandobsess

Soft tag (feel free to ignore): @absurdthirst @frannyzooey