#goddamnit do I need to write a fic for this

[foreststarflaime]

Oh my god this latest episode. First of all a HEIST EPISODE my favorite!!! But then god I am always hit like a truck by the sudden random extremely emotional moments, the goodness and the friendship 😭😭😭 Parrot purposefully not giving any diamonds so he’s the one on the chopping block for execution agegegehwhahhs he is making me INSANE he has such a good heart

I need to know what was going on through his head as that roulette wheel was spinning. Was he hoping it would land on him to spare dean, like he’d been prepared to do for all of them when he came up with that plan? Or deep down did he hope he would get to live, like he’s desperately been trying to do in every video, fleeing with his best friend across thousands of blocks or to the ends of the End to try to build a life for them? Did he finally despair of getting a happy ending, or was he desperately clawing at life? (The Genesis Rhapsodos ff7 parallels oh my goddddd)

OH MY GOD LUIGI NOOOOO was that the first actual death we’ve seen? Bc if so that’s an insane way to start that—not in some grand battle for a grand cause, but suddenly in the midst of a pointless struggle for an impossible arbitrary goal—with as many diamonds as Reddoons has, the value of diamonds kinda becomes pointless, I mean what is he going to do with all of those? Because it seems like he just wants to sit on them like a dragon on its hoard. “Clearly you guys value life more than I do” well why do you value diamonds red? The main thing they’re used for is to craft armor, like all the miners just did to get gear to fight you. Armor, the main goal of which is to preserve life, which becomes meaningless when you don’t value life. I am going to start chewing drywall

And at the beginning of that scene Reddons saying someone has to die to make a point, when really when he killed Luigi he made a martyr and only hardened the resolve of his enemies 🥲

“Here lies Luigi, a friend” oh Parrot. You love so hard and so fast and it kills me. Being the first to advocate for potentially trusting Coin too, and the fact that that single act saved their lives in the end, kindness pays off ohh my GODDD

Alas. But even if kingdoms founded on good intentions like Parrot’s end kingdom seemed always doomed to fail, at least all the tyrannical kingdoms always fall as well

OH. OH it landed on green??? Oh god he’s finally valuing life in the worst way possible they are insane for that twist, holy shit that ending

“I won’t let you die. I promise” I am going to hurl myself into the void

The emerald o7 🥲

[livingininsomnia]

"You have a motorcycle?!"

... With all that leather going on, you shouldn't be surprised, but somehow, it doesn't really seem to be something you would expect Silver to own...?

The man in question shrugs. "One thing lead to another with Father, and then..." he says helplessly, and you nod. Of course it would be Lilia's fault.

Then he puts on a helmet, and makes you take the other.

Surprisingly, it's a perfect fit. Hmm. But still.

"... Is it safe?" you ask hesitantly.

Silver swings one leg over the machine, and he makes such a handsome silhouette that you can't pull your eyes away. You can see the outline of his biceps even below the leather jacket, and your eyes are drawn helplessly to the line of his shoulders. All of a sudden, motorcycles don't seem so bad.

He offers a hand to you, and you still take it, despite your apprehensions. He pulls you close and and draws your arms around his waist.

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you," he murmurs, before starting up the motorcycle.

"Hold on tight."

[nonbino-chaos-fox]

Sometimes you just gotta watch a show and talk to your friend about the stupid shit that is happening during it and then they get a batfam fic idea out of it

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man is quiet. The villain. The boss. The groom. Your... husband. 

The vows were what you would find in a script. Nothing special. Just standard. Just going through the motions. And when he lifted the veil, his kiss was just as prescribed. That’s it. Your life is over and his is just beginning. 

Your hand is in his as he guides you from the hall. He takes you between the pews and out the tall doors. A shower of petals rain down on you as you come out into the sunlight. There’s a car waiting. The people around you are like actors on a screen. It’s all fake. This isn’t a happy day, this is business. 

The car door shuts on the other side of him and you’re closed in with this stranger. The stranger you’ll spend the rest of your life with. You know his name and his bad deeds, but nothing else. 

You fold your hands over the layers of the full skirt. He shifts as he pulls a fold of tulle from beneath him. You watch his large hand and tremble. 

“Sorry,” you breath and snatch the skirt so that it can’t overflow onto his lap. 

He catches your hand and you freeze. You lock up, bones aching, muscles clenched. He tugs on you. You let him draw you closer as you stare at his steely grip. He brings his other hand over to pet your knuckles. The softness of his touch makes you tingle. 

“You’re scared,” he states. It isn’t a question. He knows. “If you are loyal, you don’t need to be.” 

You nod, “yes, sir.” 

He huffs through his nose, “I am your husband.” 

You close your eyes and tempo your heartbeat, “what should I call you?” 

“You know my name.” 

“Walker.” 

“August,” he insists upon his first name. “Maybe one day, you will have something softer to call me.” 

“Maybe,” you shiver and he squeezes your hand. 

“Your father wrote his own fate, you will write yours,” he raises your hand and lays a kiss on the back of it. “It doesn’t need to be the same.” 

You stare ahead. You can’t let yourself feel or you will feel everything. The fear, the grief, and even, the anger. Once they boil over, you will be lost. 

“I understand, August.” 

Another heavy exhale. 

“You will not act so cold in front of my men.” He takes your hand and forces your fingers open. “You will touch me with kindness.” He puts your palm to his cheek and leads you to cradle his face. His stubble pokes at your delicate gloves. “You will do so without my order. You will behave as a wife, so far as they are concerned. Let your father’s defiance die with him.” 

“I will not resist,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

“Goddamnit, look at me,” he says. 

You turn to look him in the face. The anger you expect is absent. He watches you placidly. Your fingers twitch and he leans into your touch. He takes your other hand and forces you to twist toward him. He leans in and before you can think, his lips are on yours. 

It is different than at the altar. Not just a peck, more. His lips part and his tongue flicks out along yours. He hums and you open your mouth. His hand creeps up the back of your neck and he locks you against him. His tongue invades your mouth and you squeak. 

He draws away and his eyes narrow, “better.” You’re unsure if he means it was better than before or that you need to do better.  

He lets you go and sits back against the seat. He closes his eyes as he pushes his shoulders wide. His feet are planted as he lingers in unspoken thought. You look at the driver then out the window. You turn back to him. 

You touch his sleeve and shimmy closer. He hums again. The tone assures you that you aren’t unwelcome. Play your part, fulfill your vow. That is all that needs to be done.  

This is more than you, there is your mother, and others beyond that. Those that were once loyal to your father. Those you called friends and family. Those who now walk the same tightrope. Those that have already fallen. 

The car stops. A flicker of panic strikes in your chest. The door opens from outside and he pulls you out with him. You keep one hand on your skirt and the other on his arm. He marches ahead. 

You enter the large building and wait in some room. He remains silent, pensive. You’re summoned and after a time. He fixes your arm to hook through his as you stand before the large doors. 

“Head up,” he girds before you enter. 

They watch you, just as before. You can hear them this time, whispering. You don’t look anywhere but ahead of you. He nods at the more notable guests. You will not doubt be met again with those faces through the night. 

He puts you ahead of him to climb onto the platform where the bride and groom’s table stands. He follows closely. He pulls a chair out but puts his hand to your back so you cannot sit. He sidles behind you. Instead, he sits with you, lifting you into his lap. 

You quiver again. Humiliation surges through you. This is his show of victory. He boasting. No, you will not just be beside him, you are his.  

[coolshadowtwins]

Shen Yuan gets hit with a truth serum plot fic round up!

These are from the comments and reblogs of my previous post

Absolution by airplanelanding

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51587557#main

Summary: Luo Binghe stared back at him. There was something distant in his eyes, something Shen Qingqiu was too tired, too drained, to decipher. Then, Luo Binghe’s lips opened in a non-apology, a soft, murmured sentence—a quiet, “I need to know the truth.”

Shen Qingqiu frowned. He opened his mouth to question the damn-near imploring words, but he never got the chance.

He failed to notice something was in Luo Binghe’s hands until it was too late.

Or

Luo Binghe is determined to get answers this time, now that Shen Qingqiu can't run away. Even if he has to use a truth serum to do it.

aka A Water Prison Re-Write.

"open my lungs to let you in" by ghostybreads https://archiveofourown.org/works/37276570

Summary: Shen Qingqiu had a secret. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before he was hit by a truth serum wife plot.

//

“How are you?”

“Horny. Kind of want Binghe to rail me, I guess. But it’s manageable.”

Liu Qingge’s hand on his forehead froze, and he was close enough that Shen Qingqiu could hear his breathing stop. He stared back expressionlessly, the mortification distantly crawling up the back of his neck. Honest One-Horned–

The frustrated scream that he usually vented in his head, came out straight from mouth.

“aaAAAAAHHHH GODDAMNIT AIRPLANE–”

no regret (i've been sorry all these years) by krmilia

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39006066

Summary: There is no actual way the System hated him so much, right? Right?

Recently a lot of shitty things happened to Shen Qingqiu. By that he meant sowers in Jinlan city, return of his wayward disciple – who, uhm, prepared him surprise by leaving the Abyss two years early – and now… Well, now he was poisoned with a truth serum.

(Or, Bingqiu finally talk.)

speak your mind (not that much!) by nyoomerr https://archiveofourown.org/works/38953875

Summary: Before the investigation in Jinlan City, Shen Qingqiu is hit by a curse that forces him to speak his mind. Unfortunately, this means that the first thing he does when he sees Luo Binghe for the first time in three years is to tell Luo Binghe that he's grown up to be really quite pretty.

Luo Binghe, not sure what's going on but absolutely enjoying the ride, abandons all his plans immediately. He has new priorities now, including but not limited to:

- get his Shizun to call him 'pretty' again

- steal his Shizun away from his (probably in existence) harem

- ???

funny how you just break down (waiting on some sign) https://archiveofourown.org/works/36742384/chapters/91657246

Summary: Luo Binghe’s hand is half-raised, and Shen Qingqiu is going to die and this is the hand that will—

“[Notice: In appreciation of your continued use of our services, System 2.0 is offering {Valued Customer} a complimentary Bonus Plotline! Do you accept?]”

aka, What if Luo Binghe could read Shen Qingqiu’s mind during the Jinlan City arc?

What is Seen by CavetteDracones

Summary: …is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison?

BONAS:

Moshang

If It can be destroyed by Tossawary https://archiveofourown.org/works/53124079

I’ll probably add more as they are either found by me or suggested!

[bamfkeeper]

Drunk and hungover Kurt is a needy, whiny mess and you get to take care of him.

In a comic I read Kurt goes insane and drinks himself to a hangover and I wanted to write a fic about it. Turned out way longer than expected, it was supposed to be a funny little drabble lol. I came back to this at two different times so I hope it doesn't read as choppy.

Warnings: Alcohol use, hangovers, descriptions of vomiting, gender neutral reader, unedited.

WC: 2.5k

You had no idea where Kurt was during the Gala, he had gone off for another drink and he never came back. You searched around, finally finding him slumped on the floor. He hiccupped, his head lifted up and he was definitely dazed. "L-Lieeblinggg...." he slurred, his smile slanted as he tried to seem like he was totally fine...when he was clearly drunk.

"Kurt! How much have you had to drink??" You asked with a frown, you never really cared if he drank, but it seems that tonight he went crazy. He drank excessively and he was way over his limit. He could barely even hold his head up, god forbid he teleport anywhere.

"Come on..." you grunted after you received no response, "Let's get you back...you are gonna feel like shit in the morning." You managed to weasel your arm around his back and lift him up enough, his feet supporting him but he was like a large, weak dummy you were trying to puppet. "Kurt, please work with me..." you strained, jerking him up a little bit more.

He lifts his head up at the sound of voice, his expression looking completely dazed and drunk, his vision a bit woozy as he tries to focus on your face. Kurt takes a moment to process what you just said, the gears in his mind turning as he blinks a few times and eventually understands your words.

Kurt just ends up letting out a small chuckle, nuzzling the side of your face and clinging to you tighter, almost in a childlike manner. “Ach-“ he murmurs, his words slurred and his thick German accent sounding heavier than normal. “I can stand, mein Engel. Just fine.”

His feet shifted below him and he supported himself so you weren't struggling as much. Good. He was standing. Now came the hard part: getting him to walk.

"Okay...let's go. Time to get home..." You instructed calmly, you began to slowly take steps forward, his tail curling around your waist tightly. After walking for a few minutes he became fidgety, like a child wanting out of a carseat. You frowned and held onto him, "You can't walk on your own," you reasoned with him but he just shook his head.

He lets go of your arm to take a few steps forward, only to stagger and fall forward almost immediately. Kurt would’ve face planted, but thanks to his tail still wrapped around your leg, it prevented his fall completely and you had caught him by the waist before he could topple onto the concrete sidewalk.

"Goddamnit, Kurt! You almost ate the sidewalk!" you groaned and tried to pull him upright again, his feet nearly tripping over each other in his struggle to stand up again. "Please, please try to walk, I know you don't feel good, but I really need you to try. I don't have super strength..." Your reasoning fell on his ears and sounded like water slushing through one and out the other to him.

Kurt didn’t resist you pulling him closer to you, instead choosing to nuzzle his face into your shoulder once more, seemingly unconcerned by the fact he just almost took a nosedive into the sidewalk. His tail still has a firm grip on your leg, even as leans into you. He lets out another quiet chuckle as he clings onto you like a koala, mumbling into your shoulder.

After a long, very long, walk to your home, you managed to get him inside. It took a lot of effort on your end, since he was basically a ragdoll at the end of the walk. You dragged him into your home, watching him stand and sway like he were on a ship. "Sit," you guided, taking his shoes off since he clearly couldn't do anything on his own right now.

You moved to his clothes, slowly unbuttoning his extravagant outfit from the gala you attended that night. He's all over the place as you attempt to strip him out of his formal clothing, stumbling and nearly toppling to the floor more than once as you struggle to get his suit off of him. How he does this from a seated position, you will never know.

“If you wanted to take my clothes off, I would’ve let you sooner…” He mumbled, his drunken self still surprisingly cheeky and flirtatious even if he’s nearly out of it. You rolled your eyes a little bit, expecting him to be a little cheeky. When he did have a casual beer, he would drink just enough to be buzzed and he always got super flirty. But he was still sober enough to talk, walk, function like normal. Not like now.

"Kurt, hold still...I need to get you out of this for bed, no funny business. Bed only. To sleep." You successfully tug the suit jacket off and toss it aside, letting it hit the floor with a heavy thunking sound. He’s now only left in a thin, skin-tight white undershirt that leaves very little to the imagination, especially as it sticks to his abdomen and chest, the sleeves a bit ruffled and very pirate-esque.

He looks down at you through heavy lidded eyes, a smirk still on his face that’s half-hidden by the way he’s nuzzling the side of your neck. “Does that mean I can’t have any fun?”

"You are not having fun tonight, Kurt...you are incredibly drunk, and I wouldn't do that." You insisted back, frowning at him as you took his undershirt off. He murmurs something in German under his breath, a quiet stream of words that are nothing more than heated, drunken mumbles of affections.

Kurt’s hands wander to your hips now, gripping at the fabric of your clothes rather firmly as he tries to regain his balance. “You look so good…” He mumbles, one hand sliding lower. “I just want to touch…”

"Hey, no." Your hands pull his away, and you give him a stern look, "No, Kurt...you are drunk. You are going to get up and come to bed, for SLEEP." With some struggle, you finally got him up again and drug him to the bedroom, pulling the blankets back on the bed and looking back to see him swaying again.

"You're cruel..." he slurred out, his voice soft and pouty, "You know that..?"

"Mhm, so cruel that I drug you back home instead of leaving you all alone at that party to wake up hungover slumped against the wall." You replied plainly, gesturing to the bed. "Come on...bed."

You were pleased when he trudged over and sat down on the bed, letting out a huff as he plopped down. He looked up to you, his face blushed from his drunk affliction and his eyes weary. Your hand came up and ran through his hair, "Am I mean still? For taking care of you?" You questioned the poor blue mutant with a slight tease in your tone.

Kurt leaned his head into your hand, his yellow eyes fluttering closed and a low purr-like noise rumbling in his chest as you pet his head. Despite his protests and grievances, Kurt’s nothing less than a lovesick puppy.

"Ach, yes. You’re so mean to me, mein schatz.” He replies, sounding more sarcastic than sincerely annoyed as he speaks. He lets out another small groan, flopping backward and spreading out on the bed dramatically. Good...that saved you time. You pulled the covers over his body and tucked him in. Luckily once he actually laid down in bed, he passed out almost immediately. He gave a few more whines and moans, but with some coaxing he blacked out.

A quiet, half-hearted groan can be faintly heard from inside the room. Kurt has woken up, and unfortunately he wasn't feeling too great, as you predicted.

The first thing he notices is that you’re not next to him (which he isn’t happy about), and the second thing he notices is that he feels awful. His head is pounding and he feels nauseous, and judging by the way his stomach is twisting in knots…he follows his body's rapid urge and he throws the covers off him, stumbling out of the bed and rushing towards the bathroom.

Kurt let out a low, pained groan as he leaned over the toilet, his hand gripping the edge of the seat as he began to retch. He lets out a few dry heaves before bile comes up his throat, the acidic liquid burning and leaving him with a bitter, stinging taste in his mouth.

You heard this from the spare room, you decided to sleep there in case he tried anything in his drunken state. You didn't want him to realize he did anything and regret it, or whatever. You'd never want to cross that boundary and take advantage of him in any way, even if he seemed like he wanted to. You never knew if he did or not, it was basic sense not to do anything with someone who can't think clearly.

"Oh, Kurt..." you sighed seeing him curled over the toilet, walking up to him and rubbing his back. "Don't fight it...just let it out. It'll be over quicker if you let it happen."

Kurt’s stomach let out another loud ache as he retched into the toilet more, spitting up another string of bitter, burning bile. He lets out another low, pained groan as he does so, his tail drooping weakly behind him and his yellow eyes beginning to fill with a thin layer of tears.

A small shiver ran through him as you rubbed his back, his body leaning into your hand as he tried to even his breathing between bouts of being sick. “I feel like I’m dying…” He mumbles under his breath, his voice a pathetic whine as he tried to get as much comfort from you as possible.

His body shook with another painful gag and he once again threw up, a stream of bitter fluids coming up his throat and into the toilet. He let out a small grunt, his yellow eyes looking glassy and out of focus.

He’s trembling slightly, an uncomfortable cold shiver running through his entire body as he retches and coughs. He’s not holding back anymore, letting whatever is left in his stomach empty out. Eventually the dry heaving passes, and Kurt lets out a small groan of pain. “Hnnng…”

He throws up for ten minutes straight. Small intervals between each wave.

After several minutes of dry heaving, he rests his head on the rim of the toilet, breathing heavily between pants. His eyes close and his face flushes slightly with exertion, “Please…” He manages to get out in a quiet, pleading voice. “…make it stop….”

"You haven't thrown anything up for a little bit...I think you got it all, baby." You pulled him to sit up more, flushing the toilet and running a rag under the faucet to dampen it. "Just sit still if you can. A little clean up then you can lay back down, I promise."

You began to wipe his mouth with the rag, supporting him as much as possible but letting the wall he leaned into do most of the work. "That's it...now here, rinse with this and I'll help you back to bed."

He practically leaned his entire weight on you as you helped him up off the floor and led him to the sink. He spat out the rest of the bitter taste in his mouth before using the mouthwash as instructed. Kurt took the mouthwash you handed him and slowly began to gargle it. It almost made him throw up again, just from the act of gargling.

When he was done, you wrapped your arm around him and pulled him towards the bedroom. "Good job...come on. Back to bed okay? I have some water there for you." You were relieved he didn't protest when you guide him back to bed, he sits down on the edge, taking the glass of water you held out to him and quickly downing it.

Kurt lets out another small, pained groan. “…I feel awful.”

"I don't doubt it. You drank a lot. Beer, some whiskey and gin...then tequila shots." You recalled what one of your friends told you when you reached out, and Kurt whined loudly, holding his mouth.

"Nngh...bitte....I will throw up again just hearing that..." Kurt's whine made you smile lightly, so you stopped.

"Alright, alright," you smiled and gestured for him to lay back down in bed. He needed to rest some more. You'd be there to take care of him.

Kurt places the empty glass down on the nightstand before he laid back down on his side again, pulling the covers up over himself. His entire body is still trembling slightly as he shivers, and Kurt looks as if he’s struggling not to pass out.

He lets out another small, pained groan as he curls in on himself. “Es tut mir Leid...I must have been such a fool last night." Kurt mutters with slight shame and sadness in his voice. "Stay with me..?” He requests quietly in a somewhat pleading tone.

How could you deny that face?

"Of course. I'm here to take care of you." You reassured him and stroked his hair comfortingly, "And don't apologize. I mean sure...I was a little shocked at how much you drank, but hey, everyone was partying." You tried to help him feel better, in all honesty you weren't mad at him at all. Just worried, since he drank so heavily so suddenly.

He gave a weak smile, but he was still feeling like shit. "Danke...for taking care of me and dealing with my sickness...I do not think anyone else would sit in the bathroom with me and watch me puke." Kurt chuckled, though it was soft and pained.

"You don't need to thank me for caring for my boyfriend," you chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Now...you need some much needed shut eye. I'll be right here if you need anything. Water, medicine, a trash can. For now, just try to get some sleep to fight that headache I know you have." Your hand continued to stroke his hair, your fingers running through his locks and scratching his scalp lightly.

His eyes close and his head leans into your hand as you pet his head, a quiet, small purr-like noise rumbling in his chest. "Okay." Kurt's voice is so tired, he's ready for more sleep. He enjoys when you play with his hair, so you gladly continue until you see his breathing pattern even out and deepen. Kurt snuggles into you, and luckily he fell asleep even though he felt pretty shitty. All because you were there to help him, and he couldn't be any more grateful about it.

You felt his tail weakly curl around your leg, his sleeping form seeking you out naturally, any way he could. So you moved closer, smiling down as he cuddled into you. He was such a sweetheart, no matter what. You hear him mumbling something in his sleep, and it just makes you pull him even closer to you. You don't know if he was awake at all, but you heard him regardless.

“Ich liebe dich..." his tired, sleepy voice murmurs against your skin.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Way of X #3 (2021)

[absurdthirst]

Mafia Love {MobBoss!Joel Miller x PlusSized!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.8k

Warnings: Drinks, murder, abduction, drugging, forced marriages, mentions fat phobia/fat shaming, insults, body image issues, food/eating, dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), safe words, choking, degradation/dirty talk, multiple orgasms, miscommunication, angry Joel, confessions of love

Comments: Assistant District Attorney, witness to a crime, you are forced into marriage with the head of the Miller crime family, Joel Miller. Hating how you are forced to save your family and tied to a man who could kill you, or worse, make you fall for him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

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.

"God, it's so good to just relax. I finished that big case and now I can let loose." You tell your friend Gianna whose birthday it is. She picks up her glass, clinking it against yours. 

"Cheers to that." She grins, knowing how work takes over your life. It was inevitable, being a lawyer is hard work and you rarely get time to enjoy your personal life.

You finish your drink and stand up after grabbing your clutch, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." You tell Gianna. 

"Do you want me to go with you?" She asks and you shake your head, "no. Enjoy yourself." You tell her, offering her a smile before you make your way through the gyrating crowd. It takes a few minutes but eventually, you find the bathrooms. Huffing at the ever present line for the ladies, you wait and check your emails. Eventually, you use the bathroom and check your makeup. Once exiting the bathroom, the line has disappeared and you frown, suddenly feeling a little sick. The exit door is right there and you need air. You stumble out of the heavy door and that's when you see the man drop to the ground, blood splattered everywhere and you try to scream but nothing comes out. The man holding the gun is surrounded by a few others who move fast to rush after you but you manage to catch your nails in the exit door before it closes and you fling it open, rushing through the crowds, pushing your way through until you run out the front of the club. There's a taxi passing and you grab it, getting in and exhaling shakily, tears stinging in your eyes. You just witnessed a murder. It's too much to handle and you cover your mouth to silence the sob. You've seen a lot during your cases but nothing firsthand like that. You fumble to grab your phone from your clutch so you can call the police. "Fuck." You choke when you discover the battery is dead. "Shit." You tilt your head back to rest it on the seat, knowing you will have to phone the police tomorrow. 

**** 

The next morning, you wake up with a headache, both from the booze and the horror you witnessed. The way the man's brains scattered on the concrete will stay with you forever. You grab your phone, biting your lip, and trying to decide if you should phone the police. You work for the DA's office after all. Surely they will believe you. You falter, knowing your story is ridiculous. You had a lot to drink, so was it real? Or part of some booze-induced nightmare? You aren't sure. Deciding to go for a walk to clear your head and get some coffee, you get up and get dressed. The air is cool and fresh and you are walking through Boston Commons when the car pulls up beside you. Two men get out and you try to run but it's too late. They grab you, dragging you into the black SUV and before you can scream, the needle is pushed into your neck. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you wonder if you're going to die.

****

“Goddamnit Tommy.” Joel growls, curling his hand around his bourbon glass so hard it’s a wonder that the crystal doesn’t shatter. Glaring at his younger brother and wondering why his mother cursed him by making him promise to look after him on her deathbed. “I’ve fuckin’ told you about keeping that shit private.” Tommy’s latest incident is his most reckless yet and now they are in hot water. “She’s a goddamn D.A. This wouldn’t have happened if you had kept it to the warehouse like I fuckin’ told you to.”

Tommy shakes his head, “we were tryin’ to track him down. He’s a goddamn state senator. He owes us millions. He didn’t give a fuck when he was benefiting from our networks, gettin’ drugs and weapons.” Tommy reasons, “I was impatient. He owed us too much.” Tommy growls and Joel hisses. 

“This is the fuckin’ shit that sent us runnin’ from Texas.” Joel growls, knowing he’s spent years trying to establish the new network in the north east after leaving Texas once his mama had died and left the estate to him. 

“She won’t be a problem. The guys are getting her now and there’s a solution.” Tommy says and Joel snorts, “we ain’t killin’ someone else. Especially a D.A. We will be raided before you can say lawyer.” 

Tommy shakes his head, “marriage. A spouse can’t testify against their husband.” He says and Joel scoffs, “last I remember, brother. You’re married to Maria.” He says and Tommy shakes his head, “not me. You. You marry her.”

Joel is speechless, staring at Tommy like he’s lost his mind for a few moments and expecting the bastard to start laughing like it was some kind of joke. He doesn’t. “No.” He spits, hating the mere idea of marriage and being tied to someone again. 

“Think about it.” Tommy jumps in again, leaning over and clapping him on the shoulder. “She can’t testify about something that happens with her husband. She can’t be coerced into giving them anything.” 

Joel snorts, “but she can be coerced into marriage? Tommy, I swear our mother dropped you on your head.” The bad thing is that it would make his problem go away and that makes him frown even deeper.

“She’s pretty. I looked her up. She’s your type. She - she has a sister and a niece. We could threaten them. Coerce her into marrying you and then when the case is dropped, you can divorce her. It’s a great idea, even you gotta admit that. She won’t be able to testify against our family and we continue doing our shit. The fuckin’ Firefly assholes in New York would love to see us in the clink.” Tommy growls just as Tess walks into Joel’s office. 

“You have a delivery waiting for you in the garage.” She says, confused and suspicious when Tommy looks back at Joel. 

“Come on.” Joel gruffs and the younger Miller brother follows him through the house. 

“Go away.” Joel growls at Tess when she tries to follow.

****

Your head aches, your eyes feel heavy and you try to open them, hearing male voices and you suddenly remember what happened. Grunting, you try to move but your hands are tied behind your head and your eyes are blindfolded. “Wha- where- I” You rasp, throat so dry that you can’t even speak.

Joel stares at you, his dark expression not giving away his inner thoughts. Hands crossed over his chest, he knows he looks imposing. Or he will look imposing when your blindfold is eventually taken off. You are pretty. Just on the other side of plump, you are curvy and lush in all the right places. He admires you for not crying immediately when you stiffen, realizing that you are being held captive. He nods at Tommy, giving him permission to remove the blindfold.

You blink rapidly when the blindfold is removed and you look up to see the man you witnessed kill someone and the other is broader, his eyes dark and intimidating and his arms crossed, making his muscles bulge. He has gray hairs weaving through his locks, a scruffy beard, and you know he is capable of killing you with a flick of his wrist. You swallow, throat so dry with fear and you look between the men. “I- are you going to kill me?” You gasp, terrified about what’s going to happen to you.

The naked fear in your eyes gets to Joel. He doesn’t have a problem killing, he’s done plenty of it. Except he’s having a hard time imagining you laying there lifeless. Tommy steps forward. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He tells you apologetically, pulling his gun out from behind his back. 

Joel knows his impatient brother will pull the trigger. “You’re gonna marry me.” Joel announces. “Or I’m going to kill your sister and your niece.”

You are shaking, the gun pressed against your temple is still there as the older one declares you’re going to marry him. “You- you - oh my God. Why- why marry - why do you want to marry me?” You ask, voice shaky and your lower lip trembling as the one you saw kill lowers his gun and you inhale deeply, still scared but relieved the gun isn’t aimed at you.

“I- I wouldn’t be married to you. You are the one who I witnessed murder someone.” You huff at Tommy, not wanting to be lectured about the law. 

“It’s still family and if I go down, so does Joel. You won’t be able to testify against the family.” Tommy argues and you look up at Joel when he growls, “enough of the law bullshit, yes or no? I have men outside of your sister’s place in Maine. 1256 Florence Lane. Your niece goes to Bellview Elementary?” Joel rattles off and your eyes widen, knowing that these are dangerous men. You can’t risk your family. You will figure out how to escape. For now, you just need to comply. 

“Fine.” You spit at Joel, “I’ll marry you. If you kill me, there’s no guarantee you won’t go after my family anyway. I need to make sure they are okay.” You barter, knowing that this is your reality until you figure out your next moves.

He watches you for a moment and then nods. “Fine.” He agrees, straightening slightly. “We will get married in two days. I will have my men pack up your things and bring them to the house.” He tells you without any emotion in his voice. “Tommy, take her to the blue suite and let her clean up. Get her some breakfast.”

You are in shock, reeling from the news that you are going to marry a man you don’t even know. Nothing beyond his name and his job. The younger one, Tommy, unties you and grabs your arm. “Maybe not so rough.” You huff as he guides you out of the garage and through the house. It’s beautiful. Not what you expected at all and you know you aren’t in the city. You stumble as he drags you along the halls until you are shoved into a room, it’s blue like the name dictates and you take a moment to admire the decor. There’s no way two men decorated this home. “Can I call-?” The door is slammed and locked and you slump against the wall as tears sting in your eyes. You’re trapped.

“Goddamnit.” Joel huffs, walking into his office and dropping down into his chair and rubbing his eyes. The fucking Fireflies are all over his ass and FEDRA was breathing down his neck. 

“What’s wrong with you?” A sarcastic snort comes from a chair off to his left and he sighs, opening his eyes to find Ellie staring at him. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Bored.” Ellie shrugs, spinning one of the chairs he has in his office. Her legs kicking out as she grins. “What’s died and crawled up your ass?” She asks him, tilting her head with teenage curiosity that tends to drive Joel insane.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” He grunts, looking at the girl of one of his former Lieutenants. He had gotten killed, and Joel had taken responsibility for the girl. He sighs, knowing he should warn her about you. “There’s a woman gonna be living here. Don’t bother her.”

Ellie’s eyes widen. “A woman? For what? For who?” She asks, ever curious and wondering if she’s going to be with one of the girlfriends or if she is going to be a worker. “Me.” Joel says and Ellie can’t help it, she throws her head back and laughs. “You? You? Please. Don’t joke like that Joel. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.” She sasses and Joel rolls his eyes. 

“She’s going to be my wife.” He explains and Ellie nearly falls out of her chair. “Wife?”

“Yes, wife.” He hisses irritably, wondering how the fuck he could get her to shut up. He should have never said a word. “It’s a temporary thing, so don’t get attached.” He warns her, knowing that despite his warning, Ellie will do what she pleases and he can almost guarantee that as soon as she leaves his office, she will go find you.

Ellie shakes her head, “you? With a wife? Oh boy.” She stands up and slaps her knees. “Well, I’ll see you around.” She says, determined to find you and discuss the fact that you are going to marry Joel. Joel grunts and she swiftly exits his office, running through the house until she hears sobbing. She knocks on the door and you shuffle back, stopping your crying to worry if someone is going to kill you. “Who- who are you?” You ask the teenager, confused by her appearance.

“I’m Ellie.” She announces, walking in nonchalant and dropping into a chair to face you. “And you’re the woman Joel is going to marry. Why? He’s so fucking old? And he’s…..Joel.” She thinks you’re pretty, even though it’s been obvious that you’ve been crying. “That doesn’t mean you have to cry about it though.” She looks at you curiously, waiting for you to answer.

“Joel is…your dad?” You ask and she shakes her head, “no, oh hell no. No. He - he was my dad’s boss. My dad was killed in a car accident when he was chasing someone. It - my mom died when I was born so yeah…tragedy kid. Joel felt sorry for my orphan ass and took me in.” She shrugs, “not a bad place to be taken in.” She gestures to the bedroom, “although I’m not Sarah.” She murmurs and you frown, “who’s Sarah?” 

Ellie curses, “oops. Said too much. Maybe ask Joel. Yeah so, uh, why are you marrying Joel?” She asks and you sniff, wiping your eyes. 

“Because he’s gonna kill my family if I don’t.” You whimper and Ellie snorts, “Joel might seem like a bear and sure he’s dangerous, he’s killed, but it didn’t used to be that way. His uncle was actually in charge of the Miller household and Joel used to be a contractor but when - well, ask Joel about Sarah and Helen, uh, and yeah, he wasn’t always this way according to men I’ve spoken to.” Ellie explains and you realize you have even more questions. 

“I - I can’t risk my family. Even if I have to sacrifice myself.” You murmur and Ellie nods in understanding. “Well, welcome to the fam.” She grins, “I like you already.” She declares and you offer her a soft smile, “thanks. It was nice to meet you.” You tell her and she nods, backing out of the room. 

You sit there for another few moments before you decide that if you can get to a phone, you can phone your sister and warn her then maybe you can escape. You creep to the door, listening and when you don’t hear footsteps, you make your way into the hall, figuring there must be a house phone somewhere and your guess is the kitchen. You sneak downstairs, trying to find the kitchen in the ridiculously large house and you grin in triumph when you find the kitchen is empty and there’s a phone on the wall. Picking it up, you dial your sister’s number that you have memorized for emergencies and it starts to ring.

The light on Joel’s desk phone lights up and he sees that the kitchen phone is in use. He had expected you to try to call your sister. He picks up the handset and speaks into the phone. “If you tell her, our deal is off and she becomes a liability.” He growls into the phone, listening to it ring once more and then the sound of your sister’s voice comes over the line, answering.

Your heart pounds when your sister answers and the urge to call for help is on the tip of your tongue but Joel’s growled warning echoes and you greet your sister. “This isn’t your cell?” She asks and you clear your throat. 

“It died. I just - I, uh, I’m using a friend’s phone. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” You say and she is suspicious. 

“Whyyy? I love you but you’re so busy with work. You never call.” She says and you hate that she’s right. 

“I was thinking of you guys and wanted to see if you’re doing well.” You lie slightly and your sister smiles against the phone, “we are doing good. The brat has a spelling test tomorrow so she’s been studying.” She says affectionately and you grin against the phone. Your niece gets everything she wants but she’s a good kid, brat has been her nickname since she was a baby. 

“Good. I’ll, uh, I’ll have to take some time off to come see you guys.” You say, tears stinging in your eyes because you know that won’t be likely, especially if Joel kills you. 

“That sounds good. Just let me know. Oh shit. I gotta go. The cat just got out.” She curses and you smile, knowing the kitten always tries to escape from the photos she texted you. 

“I’ll talk to you later. I love you.” You tell her and she snorts, “love you too. Talk later.” The line goes dead and you lean against the wall, inhaling deeply and glad that your family are alive. You have to keep them safe. They are all you have left.

“Come to my office.” Joel hangs up the phone and then stares at it for a moment. He knows you are upset. He knows you would rather do anything but marry him, and he really doesn’t want to marry you. But he will in order to make sure that Tommy doesn’t go to prison. He leans back in the chair and waits for you to arrive, not exactly sure what he is going to say to you.

Your hands tremble as you set the phone down. You don’t know where Joel’s office is and try a few doors until the double doors open and Joel stands there, face like thunder. He gestures for you to walk inside and you do, silently praying to whoever will hear you that he won’t kill you right now. You decide to stand tall when you’re in his office, not wanting to die a coward if he does kill you. “Ellie unlocked my room.” You declare, wanting him to know how you got out, “and I wanted to make sure you kept your word that my sister is safe.”

He knows that silence intimidates, so he doesn’t say a word, just watches you. Waiting until you squirm slightly and start to speak again. “After we are married, you can have your phone back.” He decides. “Call her everyday. You keep your end of the bargain, I’ll keep mine.”

You cross your arms, “how do I know you won’t just kill me anyway?” You ask and Joel steps closer to you, looming over you and you inhale sharply as his dark eyes meet yours. 

“I may be a monster but I am a man of my word.” He promises and you nod, swallowing harshly. 

“Are you- do you expect us to have - once we are married, do you expect sex?” You ask, wondering what he wants from you.

Joel snorts, insulted by the horrified expression on your face. “No, darling.” He sneers, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to fuck me. I’ll make sure that I satisfy my primitive urges so I don’t drag you off by the hair to fuck you.” He knows he’s being harsh, but it’s better that you just steer clear of him rather than trying to get to know him.

You blink, tears stinging in your eyes as you feel unexpectedly rejected by the gruff mafia boss. You understand, he probably has a line of beautiful women waiting to fuck him and you’re…you. “Right well, I guess we both know where we stand. I’ll head back to my room. You’re having my things brought here? How do you- wait, dumb question.” You stop yourself with a humorless chuckle as you step away from him to head towards the door. “I need to call my work too. Tell them I’m sick or - or something.”

Joel considers telling you no, but he is aware of how seriously you are taking his threat. “Fine.” He motions towards his desk as he wonders why you suddenly teared up. You should be jumping for joy that he promised not to touch you. “Make the call right here.” He demands.

You nod, walking over to his desk and you pick up the phone to dial the D.A’s office. “The line is untraceable before you try anything.” Joel tells you and you nod. The receptionist answers and you ask to be put through to the office. You tell your team that you have to go to your sisters. Family emergency and you don’t know when you’ll be back. The excuse is flimsy but you’re hoping Joel and his family will let you go once enough time has passed. Your team wishes your sister well and you put the phone back in the cradle. 

“I didn’t tell them anything.” Your eyes meet Joel’s, your back straight in defiance as you ponder your future here. You won’t let him walk all over you.

“I heard.” He assesses your fatigued look, the puffy, red rimmed eyes and the way that your eyes narrow when you think he’s not paying attention. He strides over to his desk and pulls open a drawer, pulling out a bottle of aspirin and setting it down before opening another drawer and pulling out a crystal glass to take over to his bar and get a bottle of water out of the fridge. He pours you a double whiskey and brings it and the water over to set down beside the aspirin. “Hair of the dog.” He tells you. “Helps with the hangover and the drugs they used on you.”

You are suspicious of him suddenly being so nice but then you realize that he probably doesn’t want you to hate him when you’re going to be living in his house. You’re going to be his wife for the foreseeable. “Thanks.” You open the bottle of aspirin, knowing you should be concerned about the pills, but the man could’ve shot you. You don’t think poisoning you is his style. You grab the whiskey, downing it as the reality of being his wife crushes you. You always imagined you’d marry for love, not to keep alive. “Thanks.” You say again as you set the crystal glass down.

“Are you hungry?” He had given his housekeeper, who normally cooks for him, the day off since he didn’t know how you would react. But if you are hungry, he won’t let you starve. There are plenty of nights he makes himself an egg sandwich when he works late. Or the kid wakes up hungry and demands he make something.

You bite your lip, “I, uh, I usually skip breakfast. I can just grab a granola bar or an apple.” You shrug, not wanting to put him out and you shouldn’t eat a lot if your wedding is in a couple of days. You’re certain he wants a beautiful wife, even if it’s a fake one.

Joel frowns, and the silence between you is enough that he can hear your stomach growl. “Right.” He huffs, shaking his head. “Follow me.” He demands, striding towards the door of his office and throwing it open so he can take you back to the kitchen.

You follow him through the house, downstairs and you see several men roaming the estate. When you enter the kitchen, he gestures for you to sit down. “Seriously Joel, I don’t need a big lunch. I- I should be making you something. Seeing as I’m supposed to be your wife in a couple of days.”

“You can cook for me then.” He tell you shortly, turning towards the large stainless steel commercial fridge. “Unless you plan on poisoning me.” He huffs, looking over his shoulder as he opens the door. He’s joking, but his voice is still pitched down and gruff.

You shift to sit down at the counter and watch him. You never imagined that a man like Joel would be able to cook anything. You watch his muscles move under his button down and you know you shouldn’t find him attractive. You should be revolted by him but you aren’t. He grabs some things out of the fridge. “Any allergies? Anything you hate?” He asks and you shake your head, “no. I’m pretty easy to cook for.” You tell him and he nods, walking over to the pantry. “You have a beautiful home.” You tell him, trying to make some conversation.

“It’s a house.” He offers, pulling out some things and then turning back towards you. “It’s safe. It’s imposing.” He adds, smirking slightly. He doesn’t mention that it’s not really a home. Not in that traditional sense. He hasn’t had a home for a long time. “Pasta is good for a hangover.” He tells you. “That okay?”

You bite your lip, knowing you shouldn’t but you are starving. “Sure. That sounds good.” You offer him a small smile, grateful that he doesn’t seem to want to kill you anymore. “I met Ellie. She seems…a handful.” You chuckle softly, already sensing that he doesn’t seem like a man who has patience.

He rolls his eyes. “She’s a pain in my fucking ass.” He grumbles, even though he would kill for that kid without any hesitation. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t annoy the shit out of him every chance she gets. He pulls out a cutting board and a knife to start chopping garlic and onions.

You can hear the affection even if he grumbles and that calms you a little. A bad man wouldn’t take in an orphaned teenager. “She said you seem like a bear but you didn’t used to be this way.” You tentatively ask, “she loves you. So…so I don’t feel as in danger as before. I trust her.”

“You trust a little brat you met for five minutes?” He asks, raising a brow as he pauses in the mincing. “Interesting. Is that a skill you picked up in the D.A.’s office?”

You snort, “I’m a good judge of character. I’ve dealt with the worst of the worst cases and I have a good gut instinct.” You defend yourself and Joel turns to look at you, knife in hand. 

“And me? Do you trust me?” He demands with a frown.

You lean closer, refusing to be intimated. “If you wanted to kill me, you’ve had several changes including now. I don’t trust you but I know you’re not going to kill me. Otherwise why would you marry me?”

You have a point and he nods once before he looks back at his task. Sautéing the onions and garlic in olive oil, he adds crushed tomatoes and fresh basil from the garden that Ellie decided to grow in the backyard. It was more accurate that the gardener grew it, but she likes to take the credit for it. “It would save me a lot of headache if I did kill you.” He tells you, his back to you at the stove.

You stare at him, watching him cook and finding it horrifically sexy. You should not be attracted to this man, this self proclaimed monster, but he’s so capable and you find yourself trying to reason with kicking out every moral you have. “I- I agree it would.” You don’t argue that point. It would be easier to kill you. “However, the Boston PD aren’t dumb. They will find evidence of the state senator's murderer. It’s a big case, high profile. They won’t let it slide.”

“They won’t have an eye witness.” He reminds you, turning towards you and cocking an eyebrow at you in challenge. “Might even be a good thing that my wife is a D.A.” He chuckles roughly.

You huff, crossing your arms on the counter. “They will check cameras.” You counter and Joel snorts, “you think we aren’t professionals, darlin’?” He asks and you bite your lip. 

“What’s the end game here? Keep me hostage as your wife until when?” You ask and Joel turns to look at you.

“When enough time passes and we know they have dropped the case.” He says, “maybe you can even help with that.” He raises his eyebrows and you scoff, “I can’t do that. I- I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I dismissed a case without cause.”

“There is cause.” Joel reminds you. “Tommy got rid of a piece of shit. Who cares? He was embezzling money from the state. He deserved to die for lying to the people he claimed to serve.”

“And he deserved to die for that?” You counter and Joel scoffs, “well and the human trafficking. I deal in drugs and weapons. People decide to use those things whether I smuggle them or not but I draw the fucking line at little kids, at women. No way. I’ll kill anyone who deals with that shit.” Joel growls and your eyes widen, unaware of the senator’s dark side. 

“Shit. I- I didn’t know.” You whisper, staring across the room.

“Now you do.” He tells you bluntly, salting the pasta water and humming when it starts to boil. “What you do with that information, that’s up to you.”

"Well, nothing I can do if I'm married to you, is there?" You counter but you decide that you could tip off a journalist, expose the senator. You know it's bad to speak ill of the dead but the people deserve to know the truth. You watch Joel continue cooking until a bowl of pasta is in front of you. "This looks - wow." You blink rapidly and look up at Joel who sits beside you with his own bowl. "It looks amazing." You compliment him just as a woman walks into the kitchen, her eyes immediately narrowing when they land on you and Joel.

“Joel.” Tess frowns slightly but her lips twist into an insincere smile. “Who is this? And why is there a D.A. Attorney sitting in your kitchen eating pasta?” She knows who you are, she just wants to know why you are here. 

Joel says your name, and then points to Tess. “This is Tess. She’ll be here sometimes.”

You can see from her expression that there’s more than that between them. You set your fork down and stand up, offering your hand to Tess who narrows her eyes at you and doesn’t shake your hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” You say, your smile falling a little and you step back towards the counter to sit back down. 

“We are getting married.” Joel says nonchalantly and Tess sputters, “married? What the fuck, Joel? What - when - why?” She asks, confused by the announcement.

“Two days.” Joel flicks his eyes up to Tess and then back down to his food. He cares about her, how could he not care about a woman who had been with him through his brutal assumption of power? Still, things are easy with Tess, uncomplicated in the way he likes although he knows she’s always wanted more. “Tommy.” He tells her, as if that will explain the reasoning behind the marriage.

Tess scoffs, “he got you into this? I should’ve known. Fuck me, Joel. She’s a D.A. She’s gonna - this is bullshit.” Tess shakes her head and Joel sighs, not wanting to get into this. 

You clear your throat, “I witnessed something I shouldn’t have. I- I am marrying Joel so I can’t testify against the family. This is to protect the family.” You reason for Joel, knowing you’re still struggling to come to terms with it but you don’t want Tess to be angry with Joel when he could’ve killed you.

“To protect the family.” Tess snorts and shakes her head. “Right. This is going to go well.” She says and arches a brow at you. “Do you know what you are getting into with him?” She asks, hooking her thumb towards Joel. “What he’s done and what he’s capable of?” 

Joel grunts, narrowing his eyes. “Tess.” He growls, annoyed that she’s trying to scare you off of this.

You straighten your spine, “I don’t, but I think I can imagine. I know the Millers aren’t good men but my family is on the line and I can’t allow them to be hurt because of me. Whatever he has done or who he is, we are getting married and that’s that. I- I understand if you’re hurt but this isn’t my choice. I have to do this.” You plead with her to understand where you are coming from.

Tess’s gaze slides towards Joel questioningly and he shakes his head. “It’s done.” He tells her. “Don’t ask any more questions.” He grunts and nods towards you. “Finish your dinner.”

Tess can’t help but lash out, “fine. Marry the fat bitch. Don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong.” Tess hisses and you are about to take another bite of pasta when you pause, setting the fork down as Tess spins and makes her way out of the kitchen.

Joel sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t listen to her. She’s pissed because she is the one who spends nights in my bed.” He reveals. You nod but you don’t pick up your fork to eat. It pisses him off because he knows that you didn’t eat enough to assuage that hunger. Cursing under his breath, he spins your chair around and reaches for you. Hoisting you out of your chair and onto his lap.

You squeak when he drags you into his lap. “Joel!” You gasp, shifting to move off of his lap but his arm wraps around your waist, keeping your back against his chest. “You need to eat.” He says and you shake your head, “I’m sure someone in your position wants a perfect wife. You don’t - I can grab an apple and go back to my room.”

Joel picks up the fork and spears some of the pasta and holds it up to your mouth. “Eat.” He grunts at you. “I don’t care about having a perfect wife. You are fine just like you are. Soft and lush.” His cock twitches underneath you.

You are shocked at the compliment, your eyes darting to his as you take the bite from the fork. His hand rests on your thigh and you swallow obediently, eyes closing for a second. The very act of him feeding you has your stomach twisting with arousal. It’s wrong. So wrong, yet you start to get wet as he feeds you bite after bite, his hand squeezing your thigh every now and then.

“Good girl.” He tells you when the plate is empty and you’ve finished every bite. He squeezes your thigh and pats it once he drops the fork back onto the plate. “Don’t ever starve yourself. You eat and eat what you want.”

“Yes sir.” You murmur, your eyes meeting his and you see the years of anguish in them. You want that to melt away. You wonder what he’d look like if he was happy, what he looks like when he smiles. You get so lost in your thoughts you don’t even realize you’ve leaned in to kiss him. The man you should hate for taking everything away from you yet he just showed you more kindness than most.

He sees that you want to kiss him. Lost in the moment, the intimacy and he knows you will regret it. Joel pulls back and pats your leg again. “Good.” He tells you gruffly and watches you pull back in shock at yourself. He knows it was the right move to pull back, to not take advantage of the situation. Of you.

You blink, shocked he didn’t kiss you back. You feel sick with embarrassment. He must think you’re pathetic. Trying to kiss the man who has kidnapped you and is holding you hostage. You shift off of his lap, clearing your throat. “I’m gonna - I need to - oh God.” You gasp out and rush out of the kitchen, face burning with mortification and you know he could take advantage of that moment. Any hand you could’ve played is gone and he holds all the cards.

Joel sighs as he stares at the doorway that you disappeared through. He knows you are upset now, apparently he had been supposed to kiss you. He doesn’t know why you are upset since you had appeared horrified about sleeping with him. He stands and starts to clean up, wondering if he will see you again tonight.

You keep in your room for the rest of the day, surprised when your things are placed in your room. Boxes and suitcases. It seems to be everything you own except your furniture. You sigh and start to get out your essentials, placing them in the en suite bathroom. Dinner is left at your door after you made it clear you weren’t coming to dinner and you eat in peace, contemplating the fact that you’ll be Mrs. Joel Miller in 48 hours. You think about why you wanted him to kiss you. Sure, he’s attractive with his gruffness and the gray scattered throughout his hair and beard. You shouldn’t want him to kiss you. You should hate him. The confusion has your head hurting until you fall asleep on top of the sheets, too exhausted to even get under them.

Joel wakes up early. Groaning slightly at the stiffness in his joints and the aches and pains that come with getting older. He sits up and looks over his shoulder at the empty bed. Tess didn’t come back last night, so he had slept alone. Actually preferred it that way considering he didn’t know what to do with you. He opens the door to the bedroom out onto the back patio and decides he will take a swim to limber up before getting to work.

You wake up, back aching from sleeping in the same position all night and you glance around, disorientated until it hits you what happened. You sigh and shift to sit up, stretching. You realize how trapped you are here and you groan when you remember the way you tried to kiss Joel. Today, you’ll stay in your room. You shift to look out of the window after opening the curtains and that’s when you see Joel about to get into the pool. Your jaw drops at his broad shoulders, the way he rolls them and stretches his strong arms. “Shit.” You hiss, understanding why Tess was so pissed off at you becoming his wife. You wouldn’t want to give that up either. Not that she’s giving it up. You know Joel will still sleep with her even after you are married. With that thought, you head into the bathroom to get ready for a day of unpacking.

After Joel showers and dresses, he heads into the kitchen, seeing Ellie sitting at the counter but you are nowhere to be found. His housekeeper is cooking breakfast and he huffs. “Make enough for another tray.” He tells her, knowing that you will skip eating if he allows you too. He will bring you the food himself and make sure you eat.

You get dressed and ready and decide to stay in your room. Just because you have to marry him doesn’t mean you need to be with him constantly. You sigh when there’s a knock at the door and open it to find Joel there with a tray. “I brought you breakfast.” He says awkwardly and you step ahead so he can enter the room. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, watching him for a few moments.

Joel sets the tray down and corrects the small flower vase that had tipped over with a single flower on it. Wondering why the housekeeper had added it. When he looks up, he sees that you are watching him and drops his hands to rub on his pants. Almost nervous and hating how you make him feel that way. “I’m sorry for yesterday.” He grunts. “I should have- I know you just - that you regret that. Just don’t worry about it. I’m not going to touch you since you seem so worried about it.” He wants to punch himself for sounding like an idiot. “Anyway…eat.”

You don’t say anything, you just nod and watch him as he shuffles towards the door. “Joel.” You murmur and he turns to look back at you, “I don’t regret it. I regret how you reacted and that’s it - I made a fool of myself.” You confess and he nods, not saying anything else as he exits your room and shuts the door behind him.

Joel strides down the hall and stops a few steps from the door and sighs. His shoulders dropping and his head hanging slightly. You didn’t make a fool of yourself, and he wanted to kiss you. But he doesn’t want you to kiss him, touch him, if you are doing it because you think it will keep you safe.

**** 

You exhale shakily, glancing at Ellie who is standing near you outside the courtroom doors. You are dressed in the only white summer dress you own and you are nervous to marry Joel. You phoned your sister this morning to make sure she was okay and you reminded yourself that you are doing this for them. No one else. You are doing this to keep them safe. You inhale deeply when the doors are opened and you walk fast down the “aisle” to get to Joel. There’s no music, no flowers, nothing fancy. Just you and Joel alongside Ellie and Tommy as your witnesses.

The magistrate obviously knows you, his eyes widened when he had seen your name on the marriage license and Joel is worried. He might ask you something and you tell him that you are being forced into the marriage. He frowns as he waits and when the door opens, he turns to see you walk down the small path to him, looking lovely and perfect in a white dress that sways when you walk and he thinks you are beautiful.

You recognize Garrett who is officiating the wedding and you offer him a smile as you move to stand beside Joel. Your sister and your niece flash in your mind and you greet Garrett. “It’s good to see you.” You offer and his eyes dart between you and Joel. “I- I didn’t know you were planning on getting married.” He says and you swallow, giving him a shaky smile, “life is unexpected. It has been a whirlwind.” You confess and he nods, looking down at the paperwork.

Joel shifts slightly, taking your hand and squeezing it. Both in warning and because he wants to touch you. “You look beautiful.” He tells you quietly, although he knows the magistrate can hear him. “I’m a lucky bastard.”

You know he is acting on Garrett’s behalf to make this seem real and you swallow harshly, “you look good too.” You murmur, liking the way his hair is slicked back and the button down he is wearing. You turn back to Garrett who begins the service and you stare at Joel, trying to figure out what he’s thinking about.

Joel wants to rip that dress off your body and see if you are as soft and sweet as you look. If your thighs are pillowy when they squeeze his head as he feasts on you. If your ass jiggles as he slams into you again and again. If you would look as wrecked as he imagines as he fucks you. His jaw clenches, reminding himself that this is a wedding in name only, although there is a bridal set in his pocket that easily costs more than your last five years as a D.A. “You ready?”

You nod, knowing you have no choice. You have to protect your family. You need to do this no matter how much you hate getting married to a man you don’t love, a man you don’t know. “Yes. I’m ready.” You whisper and Garrett starts the service. You repeat the vows, the words feeling heavy on your tongue, and you listen to Joel gruffly repeat the vows. You aren’t expecting a ring so you’re surprised when he pulls the box out and hands it to Tommy after taking out the ring he slides onto your finger a moment later.

Joel repeated his vows, remembering another wedding a lifetime ago and he concentrates on getting the ring on your finger so he doesn’t hurt you. The magistrate tells him that he can kiss his bride and Joel doesn’t waste any time pulling you into his arms and bending you back while he kisses you with a passion that surprises even him.

You gasp into his mouth and your palm is on his chest, feeling his beating heart as he steadies you and you are breathless, lips tingling from the kiss. Garrett clears his throat and offers you his congratulations. “Thank you.” You murmur, glancing back at Ellie who sticks her thumbs up to you. Tommy offers you a stiff nod and your hand shakes a little as you sign the marriage certificate.

Joel bends down to sign the certificate after you. “I want this filed as soon as possible.” He tells the magistrate with a small wink. “Want it legal and for her to be able to change her name.” As customary, he slides the man a large payment for his services, and turns towards you to pull you to his side. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yes baby. Can’t wait to be a Miller.” You lie, knowing this will end badly. You hope Joel will let you leave before you get too deep into this. Garrett nods, taking the envelope and pocketing it in his jacket. “Yes sir. I’ll get it filed as soon as I leave here.” Joel shakes his hand and you bid Garrett goodbye, letting Joel escort you out of the room and through the courthouse. 

“Congrats.” Ellie says with a grin, coming forward to hug you and you can’t deny the teenager you’ve already grown fond of. 

“Thank you.” You smile and Tommy approaches, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “welcome to the family.” He gives you a pointed look and you clear your throat, “perhaps we can have dinner. I’d like to meet your wife, Maria.” You say, wondering what she’s like to be married to Tommy.

Joel grunts and wraps his arm around your waist. “Next week.” He tells Tommy, making it an order. “This week, I’m unavailable. We have to have a ‘honeymoon’, so you’re in charge.” He pins his younger brother with a cold stare. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

You’re surprised to hear that he wants a honeymoon. “But I thought - we weren’t going to - can I go home? I mean, we are married now. On paper. It doesn’t mean that I can say anything to anyone legally. Can I go back to my life?” You ask Joel softly, his grip tightening on your waist.

“No.” Joel shakes his head, hating how hopeful you sound. “A lot of people would try to hurt you to get to me.” He tells you. “You stay at the house, safe and secure. But you can have your phone back. Go anywhere you want to go, as long as you have someone with you.”

You deflate but at least you can regain some of your freedom. “Can I go back to work?” You ask and Joel sighs, “yes but you cannot take the Senator's case.” He orders and you nod, excited to somewhat get back to your life. “Fine. I can do that.” You promise, “but you want a honeymoon first?” You ask and he nods. 

“We are married, I’d like to know you a little better.” You weren’t expecting that but you reach for his hand to hold it in yours, “okay. We can do that.”

Joel leads you out of the courthouse and towards the dark SUV that is waiting. He turns to Ellie and smirks at her. “Ride back with Tommy.” He orders her, making her whine and roll her eyes as he opens the door for you.

You shiver at his tone and let him guide you into the SUV, the ring sitting heavy on your finger, and you dread to think about how much it cost. “You didn’t have to get such a beautiful ring, Joel. We aren’t married for real.” You remind him after you settle in the swat.

“Doesn’t matter.” Joel grunts. “You’re my wife. One day, ten years, you’ll have a ring that is appropriate for a woman who is standing beside me.” He explains. It’s not about the statue, he could honestly give a shit less. However, he plans on letting you keep the ring, as a way to apologize for this mess, so you deserve something pretty.

You nod, knowing that he might be a smuggler by trade but to the rest of Boston society, he’s a wealthy man who has social standing, even if he doesn’t want it or desires to attend the events. He would never be turned down if he wanted to go. You glance at him then at the ring. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” You admire it, feeling the strange weight on your finger. It’s unusual and you aren’t sure how to feel but you place your hand on your lap and look out of the tinted window.

“As far as the honeymoon,” Joel tells you, pulling out his phone. “I know you don’t want to fuck me, and I don’t expect you to, but if we don’t have a couple of weeks where you and I are alone, people will question.” He explains. “We can stay at the house, just not receive visitors and I will let Tommy handle the business. That way we can say we just spent the entire time in bed.”

You bite your lip, wanting to admit that you wouldn’t mind fucking him. Crazy how 48 hours can change everything. His gruffness and his innate strength make your stomach twist with desire but you know he doesn’t want you. He has Tess. That much was made obvious. “Sure. I- i can take a couple of weeks off. I already told work I’d be away. What about…I’m sure Tess will want to be in your bed so how are we going to handle people possibly seeing her leaving your room?”

“The staff will be sent home.” Joel reveals. “And Tess is still pissed at me, so I might just be sleeping alone.” He had tried to have her come over, and she’d refused. Making some snarky comment that he had ignored and she just decided to leave him hanging. It’s been a few days and will be a few more until she decides to come back. He will just have to deal.

You feel a little relieved that the staff won’t be there to watch your every move and the fact that Tess won’t be around relaxes you even more. She clearly hates you for being with Joel, even if you aren’t actually with him. “I can cook tonight…if you want. Since the housekeeper will have been sent home.”

“Whatever you want.” He isn’t too concerned about it. “We can order in if you don’t want to cook or whatever.” He is actually looking forward to a couple of weeks to relax and not worry about things. Maybe he can swim every morning. “Think of it like an at home vacation.”

You turn to look at him again, “I don’t see you and vacation going well together.” You tease and he snorts, “no. I- I haven’t taken a vacation in so long.” He confesses and you lean a little closer, “then let’s make this a vacation. I’ll cook tonight. I want to cook for my husband.” You say, wanting to find a middle ground if this is your reality until he decides to divorce you. 

He nods, “whatever you want darlin’.” His nickname makes your heart pound and you lean back in your seat, watching Boston pass by as you exit the city. 

**** 

You bite your lip as you mash the potatoes, the chicken rests after you roasted it, and you wonder if Joel will like the white wine you have chilling in the fridge.

In his study, Joel shuts down his computer and sighs softly. He’s married. Again. The narrow golden band on his finger feels foreign and yet he remembers the first time he had one on his hand. It had been such a happy time for him, quickly turning to heartache and sorrow. Pushing back from his desk, he exits the office and follows the delicious smells towards the kitchen, wondering if you were enjoying cooking or if you were trying to stay on his good side.

You glance up when Joel comes into the kitchen, putting the final touches on the dinner as you set it down on the kitchen table. He has a formal dining room but you refuse to sit there miles apart at opposite ends of the table. “It smells delicious.” He compliments you and you smile, “good. Come sit. I - I hope you like white wine. I wasn’t sure which one I should get and the cook left the chicken in the fridge so I- yeah.” You finish lamely when he doesn’t interrupt you.

“White wine is good.” He doesn’t care for wine most of the time, but you seem so nervous that he won’t pour himself a glass of bourbon like he usually would. “You didn’t have to do this.” He reminds you quietly. “Although I’m eager to see if you decide to poison your husband on your wedding night.” He teases.

You chuckle, setting the gravy down and you look at him after you sit down. “What a story that would be for a Lifetime movie.” You tease and notice his glance at the wine. “You don’t like wine.” You state and want to hit your forehead, “let me - what else do you want?” You ask, standing up from the table.

“I’ll drink the wine.” He tells you but you shake your head, “what do you normally drink with dinner?” You ask, making him sigh. “I normally have a glass of bourbon with dinner.” He admits. “I like the burn of the whiskey better than the tartness of wine.”

You want to please him, as ridiculous as it sounds since he essentially blackmailed you into being his wife, yet you still want to win him over. Perhaps it’s the years of insecurity, wanting him to want you so you don’t feel like a total failure at love and relationships. You see the bar over in the corner of the kitchen and you stand up, touching his shoulder as you walk over to grab a crystal glass and pour him a healthy measure. “Here you go.” You say as you set it down and sit back in your seat.

“You didn’t have to get that.” He insists, even as he takes the glass and immediately takes a sip. “But thanks.” He motions towards the plate in front of him. “It looks delicious.” He’s already noticed that your plate is much smaller than his and he wants to call you on it, but he doesn’t.

“Thank you. I love cooking. I don’t get to do it too often between work and living alone. I usually grab something on the way home. It’s nice to have something homemade and this kitchen - it’s a dream. Every spice. Every utensil. Anything a cook could want or need.” You compliment him.

“It’s yours to use.” He promises you. “If you enjoy cooking, indulge. Use this time to do whatever you wished you had time to do. I hope to spend a lot of time out by the pool.” He admits as he forks up a bite of the mashed potatoes and groans when they hit his tongue.

You shift slightly in your seat at the way he groans. The way his eyes flutter closed makes your chest swell with pride and you wonder when this started to feel real, like you really are married. You start to eat and imagine him swimming like you saw him earlier. You’d love to join him but you doubt he’d want that, to see you like that. “I will. I have missed cooking a lot and the pool sounds like fun. You don’t seem like a man who takes any time off.”

“I don’t.” He cuts into his chicken and there is another groan at the roasted poultry. “I work long hours and have little time for pleasure.” He agrees after he swallows. “Perhaps this is what I needed. A couple of weeks lounging by the pool with my new wife. Tell me, do you sunbathe nude?”

You snort, unable to stop yourself and he stares at you. “Oh you’re serious? Shit. I - really? I- I don’t think anyone would want to see me sunbathe nude. I can barely get into a swimsuit without crippling anxiety.” You chuckle, trying to make it appear like a joke when it’s anything but for you.

“Why?” Joel frowns as he looks up at you from cutting another piece of chicken. “You have great looking tits from what I can see and your ass is nice and round.” He tells you. “I bet you’d make a dead man’s cock hard.”

You are shocked as he nonchalantly tells you what he thinks and your heart pounds, your stomach twists with pleasure. "You - you think that I - my ex...he dumped me because I gained too much weight. He tried to force me to the gym, tried to give me a raw vegetable diet like I was a goddamn rabbit. I- I just - it's been a while since anyone was interested in me."

“Then you were dating a boy, not a man.” He grunts, shaking his head. “There’s not one inch of you that isn’t sexy, darlin’.” The slight Texas twang comes out when he tells you that and he points towards your plate. “So don’t you dare not finish your food because you think I will be repulsed.”

Your jaw drops slightly and you stare at him in surprise. His words have you wet, turned on by the twang and the way he essentially orders you to eat. You’ve never known a man like him. “Thank you.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you pick up your knife and fork. You start to eat, watching Joel eat his own meal and you realize that there’s more to him than the criminal killer you assumed he was when you were tied up in his garage.

The meal is finished in companionable silence and when he’s done, Joel drains the last of his bourbon. “That was amazing.” He admits honestly. “I don’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal like that. Don’t get me wrong, Kathleen is a good cook, but there’s something about your cooking that just….adds to the flavor.”

You smile, “that’s the love.” You tease, knowing you aren’t even on a friendship level let alone anything else. “I made dessert too.” You hum, standing up and grabbing the empty plates. You set them on the side and walk over to the fridge to take out the small cake you had made while waiting for the chicken to cook. You slice it up and set the plate in front of Joel.

“Cake?” His brows shoot up in surprise and he can’t help but smile. “It’s been a long damn time since I’ve had cake.” He admits, reaching out and taking hold of your wrist. “Stay right here and share this with me.” He orders you. “It’s our wedding cake after all.”

You are touched by his sentiment and you let him pull you onto his lap. “I didn’t think of it as a wedding cake but - it’s vanilla and raspberry.” You tell him softly, watching as he picks up the fork and brings the cake to your mouth. You take the bite he offers, wrapping your lips around the fork as he feeds you for the second time since you arrived at his home.

Joel grunts, watching your mouth and your tongue when you swipe it over your lips and imagines you with your mouth wrapped around his cock. Something you wouldn't want, but it makes him twitch. He smirks at you. "How is your cake, sweetheart?" He asks curiously.

You hum, nodding, “it’s good. Even if I do say so myself.” You smirk and reach for the fork so you can cut off a bite and lift it to his mouth. “Try it.” You tell him softly and he leans in to wrap his lips around the cake.

The richness of the vanilla and the tart sweetness of the raspberry melts on his tongue and makes him close his eyes as he groans. It's a simple cake, made even better by its simplicity and he can't help but think that it is a lot like you. You are rich and sweet and complex in your simplicity. "Perfect."

You enjoy his reaction, feeling warm from his dark gaze when he opens his eyes. “Good. I'm glad you like it.” You shift to get him another forkful and you bring it to his lips, enjoying feeding him.

His hand slides down and he squeezes your hip, enjoying the generous flesh and the softness under the pretty white dress you are still wearing. It makes him think of pushing the plate off the table and setting you up on it and having you for dessert.

You lean closer, letting him take the fork from your hand as he cuts off a piece and brings it to your lips. “Thank you.” You murmur after you swallow the bite, leaning in to kiss his scruffy cheek. He grunts and you lean back, “I don’t want to do something stupid but I want to make this work.” You reveal, looking at him.

His dark eyes seem to look into your soul and he presses his lips together. "You don't know what it's like." He warns you. "I'm not gentle. I don't do gentle. I fuck. Hard. Until you can't walk and your cunt aches for days after I'm done with you." He sets the fork down. "You should go back to your room. Stay away from me so I don't hurt you."

You swallow harshly, your eyes focused on his and your chest heaves. “I- I-” You choke, unsure of what you want. Part of you wants him to wreck you. Another part of you wants to stay away so he doesn’t hurt you. He’s not soft, he’s made that clear time and time again. “I’ll go.” You manage to choke out, shifting off of his lap and you glance back once before you scurry out of the room and away from the man you suddenly want more than anything else but you don’t know if you’d be able to handle him .

**** 

The water is cool and the shade keeps everything at a pleasant temperature. Joel’s sunglasses protect his eyes and he is able to keep his eyes on you as you float on top of the water with a frozen drink in your hand and a smile on your face.

You can’t believe how your life has changed within a week. You’re married. To Joel Miller, Boston elite and a notorious yet - unknown to most - mafia boss. You had some anxiety coming out to the pool wearing your bikini but no one is here apart from Joel and you can feel his eyes on you even behind his sunglasses. The evenings since your wedding day, you’ve cooked or ordered in and he’s talked to you, told you what his favorite movies are. Surprisingly it’s not The Godfather, and you have watched tv together like a real married couple. It’s hard to believe how different he can be when he doesn’t have to be the boss, the big brother, the father figure to Ellie who has eaten dinner with you a few times before sleeping over at her friend’s house. “What are you staring at?” You ask him playfully, knowing he thinks you don’t notice his eyes on you.

Joel’s lips twist into an amused frown and he pulls his glasses down his nose to look over them. “I’m staring at my wife’s tits.” He confesses with zero shame. Tess has come back around and he’s fucked her since he’s been married to you, but he still craves you. Reaching down and adjusting himself as he smirks at you.

You see his motion and chuckle, shaking your head as you take another sip of your drink. You want to believe his attraction to you but you’d seen Tess leaving yesterday morning and you’re not dumb. You know he is still fucking her. It makes your decision to not sleep with him the first night you were married validated. “At least you’re honest.” You hum, shifting off of the floaty after you set your drink on the side and you dip under the water before appearing again. “I’m gonna get another drink, do you want anything?” You ask Joel. 

“A beer would be nice.” He says and you nod, walking up the steps to exit the pool, water running down your body as you reach for your towel.

“I didn’t know you were turning the pool into an aquarium, Joel.” Tess appears under the shade of the porch, a mocking expression on her face that has Joel immediately pissed off. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growls, seeing you scramble to cover your body when you had just been so confident as you waved your ass towards him when climbing out of the pool.

Tears sting in your eyes as you rush into the house but not before you hear Tess say “wanted to see if the fat bitch was still here or if you killed her.” You choke on a sob as you walk into the kitchen, dripping water on the floor but you don’t care, knowing that Tess will be Joel’s number one. You’re only married on paper and these past few days don’t change anything for him. He wants her.

Joel growls and slides into the pool so he can wade angrily towards the steps. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He demands, shaking his head. She laughs as he climbs the stairs and he grabs her arms and shakes her. “Go the fuck away.” He growls, furious. He’s spent the last week with you and has grown to like you a lot. Not just physically, but he likes spending time with you. “Get the fuck out of here if you can’t keep your bitchy thoughts to yourself.”

“You know you don’t actually want her. It’s me who’s in your bed, baby. Why- why wasn’t it me? Why can’t you ever say it back?” Tess asks, her eyes growing watery as she stares at the man she loves, has loved for so many years. “Why can’t you give yourself to me like I have to you, time and time again.”

Joel sighs, closing his eyes and he can’t say the words. He cares about Tess, but he doesn’t want to love her. He frowns and looks into her watery eyes. “You knew the score when you hopped into my bed.” He reminds her. “It’s physical. If you don’t like that, you’re free to walk away.”

Tess rears back as if Joel just slapped her. Hearing the words she’s always known to be true but hoped they weren’t is painful and she shakes her head. “Whatever. Go fuck the whale. See if I care. I’ll go call Jack.” She scoffs, mentioning one of Joel’s men who has always flirted with her. She steps back from him and walks back into the house, passing the kitchen and she storms out of the house. You sniff and grab Joel’s beer, composing yourself after you hear the garage door slam and you are surprised to see Joel standing in the doorway. “Tess left before I could say goodbye.” You murmur, wanting to be the better person, even if you want to go to your room and sob at her insults.

“Yeah.” Joel frowns and steps closer to you, taking the beer and setting it down on the counter to grasp your chin, making you meet his eyes. “She’s jealous.” He tells you. “Don’t listen to her.” He knows you will take her insults to heart and he wishes you wouldn’t.

You scoff, “jealous of me? Why would she be jealous of me? I- I saw her the other morning leaving your room. I know you are fucking her and it’s none of my business but I thought- I thought we were getting a little closer. Even if we aren’t married for real, I’d at least like to be friends. I know you don’t want me like that. I know I don’t - I know you don’t want me.” You finish with a shaky inhale.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “She’s jealous because I do want you.” He reveals. “Because I’ve had to fuck her since you haven’t wanted me to touch you.” He takes your hand and brings it down to his crotch, letting you feel his hard cock. “Don’t tell me that I don’t want you when this is how I stay. I’ve been hard since you walked out in that fucking bikini.”

Your eyes widen when you feel how hard he is and your eyes meet his, seeing the desire in his dark gaze. Fuck, he wants you. You swallow harshly and remove your hand from his crotch. He moves to step back, thinking you don’t like that he’s hard but you reach up to remove the towel you have wrapped around your body. “I want you to take me to my room. I want you to fuck me. I want you to wreck me and leave me aching for days.” You tell him, knowing that you need this, you need to feel all of him. Your hand finds his crotch again, squeezing him through his wet swimming trunks.

Growling and twitching against your hand, he grabs your wrist and drags you closer to him. “One last chance to back out.” He warns you, his lips almost brushing yours. 

You whimper and shake your head. “I want you, Joel.” You tell him and he groans, pressing his lips to yours. Your hands slide up his damp chest, wrapping around his neck to press yourself against him as his tongue slides into your mouth. It’s rough and messy but it has more than your bikini dripping wet. His hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing the supple flesh and you moan into his mouth.

Joel presses you into the counter. The beer is forgotten, swimming forgotten. All that he cares about is touching you. One hand slides under your bottoms to squeeze your bare ass and grip it roughly, while his other hand moves to tear your top off your body, eager to see your tits.

His obvious hunger for your body makes you feel like you’re on fire and he tosses the wet bikini top to the floor. It hits the tile with a plop and his hands are cupping your tits after he pulls back to look at them. “Joel.” You gasp when he pinches your nipples. There’s no tender touches, he’s all in and he’s rough like he warned you.

“Fucking great.” He moans, leaning down and biting the top of one tit before sucking harshly on the skin. Determined to lean bruises under your skin to remember him by. “I knew they were great tits.” He moves down to pull your nipple into his mouth and bites down on it harshly before soothing it with his tongue.

“Baby.” You whine, tangling your fingers in his wet hair. “I - oh God.” No one has ever treated you like this, so roughly, but you fucking love it. His hands are squeezing your tits, tilting them so he can wrap his lips around your nipple, alternating one then the other until they are hard and sore under his touch. “Oh God. I need - take me upstairs.”

“Yeah?” Joel confirms it once more, smirking as he pulls off your tit with a wet pop. “You need me to fuck you, sweetheart? Destroy your little pussy until you can’t walk? Then maybe you’ll believe that you’re sexy.” He lets go of your breasts and brings his hand down harshly on your ass, making it jiggle when he slaps it. “I want you naked the second we get in that room. And I want you to spread out on the bed so I can devour your pussy.”

Your body feels like it's on fire and yet you feel like you could melt into a puddle at his words. That twang comes out and sends your heart pounding. "Fuck. I - Joel - oh God. Yes." You pant, unused to such dirty words. Your previous partners were tame and didn't smack your ass or treat you like this. You step away from him on shaky legs, needing a second to catch your breath and you turn to look back at him, channeling a more confident version of yourself. "Come on then, Miller. I want you to destroy me." You order, walking through the kitchen to the second set of stairs that lead to the bedrooms above.

Watching your ass shake in front of his face makes him reach out and slap it again. Grunting as his cock twitches and he can’t wait to have you on your knees while he’s pounding into you. He knows you’ve probably never had someone fuck you roughly, but he feels like you could take it. He hustles up the last few stairs and reaches out, grabbing you to pull you back so he can grind his cock against your ass, throbbing hotly. “I can’t wait to see how well you take me.” He growls in your ear.

You shiver, feeling like he’s hunting you down and you love it. To feel so desired. It’s more than you’ve had before. You force yourself to continue the last few steps to your assigned suite and his hands are on your waist as you open the door. He gropes your ass and you bring his hand to your bikini bottoms. “Take them off.” You order, wanting him to see all over you despite your stomach twisting with nerves that he might not like what he sees.

The strings seem to dissolve between his fingers and he flings the fabric away from your body. One hand grabs the extra skin around your stomach, groaning as he sinks his other hand between your thick thighs and pushes his fingers between the curls covering your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so wet.” He grunts, sliding a finger through your slit and back until he’s pushing a thick finger inside you.

You gasp, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders as he starts to finger fuck you. Quickly adding a second finger and you whimper, leaning your weight against him. “Oh God.” You pant and he shifts to walk you back towards the bed. You willingly lay down and groan when his fingers slip out of you. You close your legs, suddenly self conscious to be on display for him like this.

“Open them.” Joel’s voice is rough and he is impatiently pushing his wet swimming trunks down. His hard cock springing free and bouncing as he kicks them away. “I want to see your cunt, every inch of you.”

Your eyes widen at the sight of his hard cock, thick and leaking pre-cum and you are shocked at how turned on he is. His cock throbbing and an angry red. You swallow harshly, spreading your legs to show him every inch of you. Your fingers tangle in the sheets as your heart thumps.

“Fuck.” Your cunt glistens with arousal and he can’t help but twitch, making his cock bounce again. Kneeling down on the bed, he spreads your legs wider and pushes the two fingers back inside you when he lowers his head to bury his face in your folds.

“Oh shit!” You yelp when he sucks on your clit. You never imagined Joel would be a man willing to give oral and you are pleasantly surprised. His fingers curl inside of you on each pump and you moan, unable to stop yourself from reaching down to tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper locks. You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet and soon his free hand is gripping your jaw, his tongue leaving your clit throbbing and slick with his saliva. “Why are you biting your lip?” His rough voice demands and you lick your lips. 

“My - I’ve been told I’m too loud. I- he said it was like a banshee.” You confess, knowing your exes have done a number on you.

Joel turns his head and he bites your thigh until you yelp out in surprise. “Every goddamn sound belongs to me.” He growls, his dark eyes fixed on yours. “I will hear them.” This time, he spits on your pussy, watching it slide down through your folds and the dives back in with the vigor of a man starved.

You cry out, cunt gushing at the way he spits on your flesh like he owns you and in a way he does. "Joel!" You squeal when he sucks on your clit, his fingers pumping even faster and you can hear the squelch as your pussy weeps for him. "Oh God. Oh God." You pant, getting closer and closer.

Joel flicks his tongue, sucking his saliva back into his mouth and groaning when you roll your hips down onto his face. He loves how soft you are, how tangy and sweet you are on his tongue. His fingers curl and press deep, stretching you out for his cock.

"Fuck, baby." You pant, chest heaving and you reach up to squeeze your own tits, shifting onto your elbows so you can watch him. Seeing that dark gaze, knowing that his fingers - ones that are capable and have killed - are curled inside of you, making you feel only pleasure...it all sends you over the edge. You cry out and clamp down on his digits, your pussy gushing as you cum fast and hard on his face.

Joel groans as you come apart for him, his tongue slowly working you through it as the pressure around his head is perfect. He throbs against the bedsheets and watches you in rapture.

You slump back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as your chest heaves and you absorb the pleasure racing through you. You haven't felt like this before. You close your eyes and feel Joel shift after withdrawing his fingers. His wet fingers caress your hip and you open your eyes to look up at him. You offer him a lazy smile and he chuckles, "it ain't over yet, darlin'." You nod, shifting to sit up and you reach out to wrap your fingers around his cock.

Hissing at the pressure, Joel resists the urge to rock his hips forward. Letting you explore his cock since he had just done what he wanted with your body. “Fuck.” He groans when you squeeze him. “Give me a word.” He demands, making you frown, “what?” 

“A word, a fucking safe word.” He demands. “In case it’s too much.”

You haven't dealt with this before but you've read about it in those smutty books you'd stay up at night reading. You pause your movements as you consider the safe word. "Apple." You tell him, glancing over at the painting on the wall of the fruit bowl. "Apple." You repeat, looking back at him and resuming your grip on his cock.

“Apple.” He nods once, knocking your hand away from his cock and lunging over you. Your legs are hooked under his arms as he presses into you and folds them back. His hand guides his cock towards your wet entrance and his tongue slides into your mouth as he pushes forward and fills you in one harsh thrust.

You gasp around his tongue, his cock pushing deep and hard enough to take your breath away and you can't believe how thick he feels inside of you. Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, covered in healed scars, and you moan into his mouth when you adjust and he starts at a quick, but harsh pace.

“Shit, shit, darlin’.” He growls as he fucks into you with strokes that are meant to punish just as much as pleasure. Your soft body cradles him and absorbs the pressure with a beautiful jiggle. “Knew you could take me, fuck that pussy is tight.” He huffs. “Like a vice, god, you feel good.” He groans.

"Y- you too." You whimper, closing your eyes as you let him fuck you hard and fast. You feel like you're on fire with pleasure and it's only the beginning. "Pu-pussy is yours." You murmur in your haze of lust. His ring on your finger, his cock inside of you, you feel like you belong to him and for the first time since you arrived, it feels right.

Joel growls, your words just making him rock his hips faster. Wanting to pull more words from you. Wanting to hear what all you will give him as his cock shreds up inside you. “Mine.” He agrees. “My pussy, my soft, curvy girl.” He hisses, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth to keep from blowing his load at how sexy and fucked out you look below him as you hang on and take everything he gives you.

Your mouth hangs open, moans escaping your lips without any filter as he thrusts into you hard enough to push your body further up the bed. You reach for his hand, "Joel. I want - I need you to - to choke me. My ex - never wanted- I want you to." Joel stops thrusting, so shocked at your request. You bring his hand to your throat, "I don't want you to just grab my throat. I want to feel you fucking me, I want to feel my own heartbeat. I need you to own me."

A shudder rolls through him, his cock twitching deep inside you as his fingers wrap around your throat. He had never expected you to say something like this and he is eager to see how you react. “Filthy little slut.” He coos mockingly, tightening his grip until you gasp and then slowly pulling his hips back. “Couldn’t get what you need from your loser ex?” He smirks darkly. “I’ll give you what you need.” He promises.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you hard, his hips slamming against your ass as he bends you over even more and his grip tightens on your throat to make spots flash in your eyes. "Fuuuu-" You can't even talk, only groan breathlessly as he pushes against the back wall of your cunt. Tears push out of your eyes and your cunt squelches as you get closer. Your eyes meet his, a delicious smirk of satisfaction on his face, and he leans in to press his forehead against yours. "Cum for me baby." He orders and you can't hold back or deny him. You choke as you cum, unable to catch your breath as your orgasm rips through you, destroying you and gripping Joel's cock like you never want him to leave your body.

Your orgasm is breathtaking. Making him groan and his eyes roll back at how tight you clench around him as you soak him in your juices. Your name leaving his lips as he has to increase the pressure to fuck you through your orgasm. “Shit, there you go.” He pants. “Fuck that’s pretty, so wet. That’s it baby.” He knows he’s not going to last long, so he pulls back, pulling out of you completely.

He lets go of your throat and you struggle to catch your breath, your body shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Hands and knees.” He orders and you nod, struggling to shift from your back but you manage it. Kneeling on your hands and knees for your husband. Your cunt dripping as you display yourself for his hungry gaze.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand slaps your ass once, twice before he is shuffling forward to sink back into you. Watching as his cock pushes deep, he holds your ass and pulls your cheeks apart to watch your other hole flutter. “Gonna fuck your ass one day too.” He grunts before he starts moving again.

You moan, falling forward onto your elbows as he resumes his harsh pace. "Fuck. Joel yes. I'm yours." You promise, lost in the lust and the way he's making you feel. "It's yours. Whatever you want." You promise as he presses his thumb against the puckered hole.

“Yeah?” He grunts, slamming his hips against your ass and watching your body shake from the force. “Let me have what I want? Anytime I want?” He demands. 

“Yes, yes, anything you want.” You pant out quietly, making him chuckle. He sinks the tip of his thumb into your ass and reaches down to grip your neck roughly as he increases his pace.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck." You pant, his fingers digging into your throat from his grip and you want to look back and see him but you can't when his grip is so tight. "Yes! Yours. Yours." You ramble breathily as he slams into you again and again.

There’s a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he shouldn’t be so possessive over you. That it should just be an itch to scratch. He ignores it as he pulls his thumb out of your ass and slides his hand underneath you to rub your clit. “Cum for me.” He orders. “Cum for me baby, wanna feel it.”

You nearly collapse forward but the way he is gripping your throat keeps you upright and you grind back onto him when his fingers rub your clit. "Fuck baby. I'm gonna - again. Oh God. Fuck!" You squeal, clamping down on his cock again. "Please cum. Cum for me." You beg, wanting to hear him, wanting him to have pleasure too.

He grunts, desperately close to cumming but he hadn’t asked you about birth control. He doesn’t know if you are taking it and he can’t risk getting you pregnant. Not when this is a temporary marriage. He manages another four or five thrusts before he is pulling out, letting go of your neck to pump his cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck baby.” He moans, hot spurts of his seed painting your ass as he gasps for breath.

You feel a little disappointed that he didn’t cum inside of you but you know it’s likely for the best considering you’re only married on paper. You glance back at him as he squeezes his cock and you can’t help but shift around, taking his spent cock into your mouth to taste his length covered with your juices and the saltiness of his seed. Your eyes meet his as his chest heaves and you watch him as you suck him clean.

“Shiiiiiiit.” Joel hisses, his spent cock twitching and he loves how dirty you look with his cock in your mouth. “Next time, I’ll fuck your throat.” He pants. “Fuck, how was it, darlin’?” He asks, pulling his hips back and waiting for your answer.

You look up at him before you shift back onto your haunches. “It was - I’ve never been fucked like that before.” You admit, biting your lip as your eyes focus on him. “Did you- did you enjoy it?”

“I did.” His hand caresses your hip and he can see how self conscious you are. “Let me get a rag and clean you up.” He smirks. “Bet you couldn’t walk to the bathroom right now anyway.”

You shake your head, limbs feeling like jello and you shift onto your stomach as you watch him walk into the en suite bathroom. You close your eyes, feeling exhausted, and you flinch slightly at the feel of the cold rag on your skin as he cleans you up. “I have an IUD by the way. If…if you want to cum inside of me next time.”

“Shit.” Joel shakes his head. “If I had known that…..” he wouldn’t have pulled out at all. He finishes wiping you clean and caresses your ass before he slaps it. “You wouldn’t mind me cumming inside you?” He asks, wanting to make sure.

You shake your head, “I wouldn’t mind but…are you still going to sleep with Tess?” You ask. Nervous that he’s going to continue sleeping with her and coming to your bed at the same time. The woman who has insulted you at every turn, it makes you sad and angry that she says those things and you hope he doesn’t want to continue fucking her.

His eyes go flat, dark and angry as he thinks about what Tess had said. “No.” He huffs, shaking his head. “That won’t be happening.” He made up his mind, he’s married. He’s decided he’s going to be a faithful husband while he’s married to you.

You are relieved, relaxing even more into the mattress and you watch him as he shifts to sit down on the bed beside you. His entire form is awkward now and you find it a little endearing. “Good. I- I want to make the best of this while we are married. I want to get to know you.” You tell him, knowing you have to compromise if you’re here for the foreseeable until he gets tired of you. Maybe he will kill you or maybe he will let you go. You hope he’d just let you go.

Leaning back against the pillows, Joel searches for a compliment. “You were really wet.” He tells you lamely. “Tight.” He grunts, wondering if he can get more ridiculous. “Do you like to cuddle after sex or sleep?” He asks.

You can tell he’s not used to aftercare or pillow talk so you take pity on him and shuffle off of the bed, legs wobbling slightly. “I like to shower. Um, you can stay if you want but I’m sure you’ve got things to do.” You say, biting your lip and you internally cringe at how awkward it is now that the lust has been satiated.

It feels like he is being dismissed and Joel frowns, shuffling off the bed. "Sure." He nods. "Enjoy your shower." He will clean up the pool area and order dinner. "Don't worry about cooking tonight. I will order us some dinner. How does Chinese sound?'

You turn back to look at him, “sure. That sounds good. I like anything so order a selection, babe.” You say and step into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You turn on the shower and sit down on the toilet, burying your face in your hands. Things just got a lot more complicated and you’re not sure how to handle it. You know you’re going to end up getting hurt in the end.

**** 

Joel's snarl is curling his lip back and the only thing keeping the headboard from beating against the wall is the fact that your hands are wrapped around the posts, his own hands covering yours as he fucks you. "Fuck, fuck, you've got to cum." He pauses mid thrust to push up onto his knees a bit more, wanting to push deeper into you. Flat on your stomach while he fuck you into the mattress, your moans are hampered by the pillow and he lets go of one hand so he can rip it out from under you and toss it down on the ground.

“Oh God, Joel. I- fuck. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - oh shit! Shit!” You squeal as you turn your head so he can hear you, his cock pushing deep and you can barely breathe when your orgasm slams into you. It’s devastating and you love it. Fuck, you love it. “Cu- cum. Please. Want - want to feel it.” You beg but he denies you, working you through your orgasm and pushing you onto another one that has your body shaking from overstimulation.

He's learned that despite you wanting him to cum right after you do, you love having multiple orgasms. Your past lovers obviously not doing a very good job when they fucked you, Joel leaves you unable to use that vibrator that you keep in your bedside drawer. Unless you count the time he had fucked you while pressing it to your clit. "You've gotta give me another one, baby." He smirks, biting down on your shoulder.

You shake your head, “I can’t. It’s too much.” You choke and he bites down on your skin again. 

“You can. One more. One more than I’ll fill this tight little cunt up.” He promises and you whine, fingers gripping the headboard even more. He thrusts a little harder, his hips smacking against your ass and you can hardly catch your breath. 

“Shit. It’s - oh God. Too much. So good. Baby. Baby. I’m gonna cum again.” You warn him, clenching your eyes shut as your toes curl.

He grits his teeth and continues to hammer into you, wanting to feel you cum. It’s becoming an addiction. Watching you, feeling you, hearing you come apart for him. There’s an honesty you can’t fake when you cum for him. The first gush of your juices makes his hips stutter and he groans. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill this little pussy up.” He vows. “Want you to drip me while you shake your ass all over my kitchen.”

His words push you even further and you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with a cry of his name. “Fuck yes baby. Oh fuck.” You croak, voice broken from the moans he’s pulled from you tonight. “Please. Please. Pleaseeee.” You beg as you ride your orgasm, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.

Letting go of the bed, his arms push underneath you to hold you tight. Wrapping his legs around yours as he rocks into you over and over again until he is burying his cock deep. Groaning your name into your ear as he spills rope after rope of his hot seed into your womb.

You close your eyes, enjoying the feel of him on top of you and you could easily spend the rest of your life like this. That thought would terrify you if you weren’t drunk with pleasure. You sigh in bliss and he kisses along your neck once he’s still, his cock still twitching inside of you. “So good, baby.” You murmur, reaching back to slide your fingers through his hair.

He knows he’s heavy, pinning you down but you don’t complain and he doesn’t want to move. “Fuck.” He grunts, burying his face in your neck and trying to catch his breath. “Could sleep right here.” He murmurs, kissing your pulse and feeling all the stress and pain fade away.

You smile into the sheets, “me too.” You haven’t shared a bed with him yet, just sex before you both retreat to your own quarters and you wish he would cuddle you or something. “Do you maybe….maybe you’d like to stay tonight? In the same bed?” You ask tentatively, worried that he’s going to reject you.

Lifting his head, Joel’s brows shoot up. “Yeah, uh, are you sure?” He asks. He’s always come to your room, you’ve never been in his, but he wants to stay. “I don’t want you to offer if you’d rather be alone.”

“No. No. I want you to stay.” You promise, nodding your head against the sheets and you shift onto your side so you can look at him after he pulls out of you. “I want you to stay. Maybe we can watch a movie?” You suggest, reaching out to brush his hair back.

Joel secretly likes watching movies and he nods. “That will be good. Do you want to shower first, or need some water?” He knows you want a little bit of tenderness after sex.

You swallow, “water would be good, babe.” You offer him a smile, “and a shower.” You decide, wanting to feel clean after he’s wrecked your body again. “You wanna shower with me first?” You ask, knowing he isn’t one for that kind of intimacy but you always attempt to reach out to him, to make this marriage work in more ways than sex.

“That will work.” Joel nods and moves to climb out of the bed. “I’ll start the water, let it warm up.” He pauses and then leans in for a kiss before he stands and strides towards your en-suite. It’s getting harder to not soften towards you, especially since you are so sweet.

You are surprised that he wants to shower with you when he usually goes off to clean himself up and check on the business with Tommy. You watch his ass as he walks into your bathroom and you bite your lip, loving how hot he is. Even more so he doesn’t think he is. He thinks he’s too old but you love the salt and pepper. He grabs you a water and you are soon in the shower together, grabbing the body wash to clean each other off.

“Your body wash smells flowery.” Joel makes a face on principle, but he squirts it on a loofa and suds it up to wash your body. “That’s why you always smell so good.” He grunts to himself. “Love your smell, especially your wet pussy.”

You smile, pleased that he likes how you smell. It’s ridiculous how much you like hearing him compliment you. He’s such a gruff, cold man and any way you can crack his icy exterior has your heart melting for him. “Love how you smell too. Smoky and like whiskey. For now though, you’re gonna smell like roses.” You tease, sliding your hands along his chest.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Just means I need to fuck you again before we go to sleep.” He smirks and winks at you. There’s not been a day that has passed since that first day that he’s not fucked you at least twice. Most of the time, it’s hours between sessions since he’s no longer a teenager, but he’s been rising to the occasion.

You chuckle, “it’s a good thing I have the IUD otherwise you would’ve knocked me up by now and we both know that would be a disaster.” You snort and run your fingers through his wet hair, massaging his head. “I like this.” You admit softly, “what this has become.”

“I do too.” Joel admits, his hands squeezing your waist. You’ve grown more comfortable and playful as the days have gone on and his lust for you continues to grow. It also helps that he’s already seen you tell the police detective that you couldn’t help him when he came knocking about the murder. He doesn’t voice the idea that you could stay on, aware that you miss being a lawyer, a district attorney. He couldn’t ask you to give that up, or continuously look the other way.

Your heart flutters at his confession and you lean up to kiss his jaw. You have been keeping track of the case at the district attorney’s office and have seen that there is no evidence to link the murder back to Miller’s, so you are confident that the case will dropped soon and when the case is dropped, you can probably ask Joel if you can return to your previous life, but you find yourself reluctant to do so when deep down you are in love with the man who has become your husband. You rinse off after five minutes and Joel is quick to get you a towel grabbing one for himself to wrap around his waist. “You get dressed, baby. I’ll go get us some water and snacks. We can watch a movie. Pick whatever you want, just as long as it ain’t a damn romcom.” 

You snort and nod, “sure thing babe.” You get dressed in your sweats and soon enough, you are cold around Joel watching a movie until you fall asleep on his chest.

Joel strokes your back gently as you sleep, smirking at the jokes in the movie. He likes this, feeling more relaxed than he has in a long time. His informant tells him that the case is stalled and will soon be dormant. Now he doesn’t want to give you up. He’s gotten used to you puttering in the kitchen and you spend a lot of time in his study, reading if he needs to do something.

**** 

You decide to wake up early. Joel doesn’t spend the night in your bed even after two months of marriage but you don’t let it bother you too much, knowing he has his reasons and he’s opened up to you far more than you ever thought possible. You sneak out of your bedroom across the hall from Joel’s and that’s when you see Tess. Sneaking out of Joel’s room, her hair all over the place and her clothes wrinkled. Your heart breaks and her smirk makes you feel sick. He slept with her. You aren’t enough for him. He doesn’t want you. You swallow harshly, not wanting her to see how affected you are. “Morning Tess.” You choke out and she hums, “morning.” She grins and makes her way downstairs, leaving you speechless in the hallway.

Joel wakes up and for a moment is confused when he sees the spot next to him is rumpled like someone slept there. Then he remembers. You had already gone to bed, Joel staying late to talk to Tommy about business and Tess had shown up. She had been wasted and practically sobbing about you and Joel abandoning her, trying to kiss him again and again until he finally convinced her that he wasn’t going to touch her. She had begged for just one more night sleeping beside him and he had relented, knowing she was in no shape to go home. Tucking her in and making sure she didn’t throw up until about four this morning before he had finally fallen asleep.

You pour your coffee with tears stinging in your eyes and you allow yourself the breakfast you make to be your time to be upset about Joel sleeping with Tess again. After you finish breakfast, you decide you aren’t going to sit around and wait for him. He has let you go eventually if he wants to be with Tess. You make your way to your room, locking the door, and you call your friend, deciding to make plans for tonight. No longer will you sit around pining for your husband that will never be capable of loving you. You’re going out tonight despite Joel’s rules. Your sister and niece have gone to Florida for the weekend so you know Joel hasn’t had his men follow them. Joel knocks on your door but you tell him you’re working and he leaves you alone. You don’t leave your room for lunch and around eight at night you get ready and decide to drive into the city to meet your friend. Joel will still be busy with his own work since he’s gone back to running the family business so you know he won’t miss your presence.

There’s something wrong with today and Joel is in a pisser of a mood. He’s not seen you all day and he hates it. He’s gotten used to seeing your pretty face, sharing a smile or hearing you tell him a joke in hopes to see him smile. Ellie slunks into his office around nine, pouting and dropping into a chair. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He demands.

Ellie says your name and Joel frowns, “what about her?” 

Ellie scoffs, crossing her arms, “she’s gone into the city and I asked to go but she said she was going to some club with her friend. I was too young to go.” Ellie pouts and huffs, rolling her eyes, “I hate being a kid. I can’t do shit.”

“What do you mean she went into the city?” Joel drops the paper he was reading and sits up in his chair, a scowl on his face. “What fucking club, she’s in her room.” He swears Ellie likes busting his balls and making him sweat. “Don’t start that bullshit lying again.

Ellie shakes her head, “I’m not fucking lying. She’s gone out. Said something about the place Tommy and her met. I don’t know, man. That’s what she said and she looks fucking fancy. Dressed up and shit.” Ellie snorts, knowing Joel will be pissed with you leaving the house. Joel growls, realizing she’s telling the truth and she holds her hands up, “don’t shoot me. I’m the messenger.” Ellie says and Joel pushes back from his desk. 

**** 

You sway to the music, feeling like you are free for the first time in nearly three months. You are excited to enjoy yourself and let loose, especially after seeing Tess this morning. Your heart is broken, knowing she would always be Joel’s number one despite him sending her away and you try to lose yourself in the music and the drink, trying to drown your stupid feelings.

“Come on! Come on!” He hisses, slamming the wheel of his car as he curses the car in front of him. He doesn’t know why you decided to leave the house without telling him, especially because he wouldn’t have let you go alone. If you needed a night out, he would have taken you. But not back to the fuckin place you had witnessed a goddamn murder. He pulls up outside the club, screeching to a halt and jumping out of the car to storm through the security and into the club to find you.

You are swaying your hips when you feel hands squeeze your flesh. You gasp, turning your head and seeing a man pushing up against you and you shake your head, trying to step away from him but his fingers dig deeper into your skin. Before you can react, he’s being shoved away from you and your eyes widen when you see Joel grab his collar, his teeth bared as he growls at the man for touching you and not letting you go. The music is loud and you can’t hear what he says as his hand comes back and you grab onto his arm. “Joel. Stop. Not here. Not here.”

He almost flings you off and punches him anyway, but your eyes are wide and frightened. “Don’t ever fuckin’ touch my wife again.” He spits, shoving the asshole away from him. The man nods and quickly disappears into the crowd. Joel turns towards you and his scowl is fierce. “What the fuck are you doing here? You didn’t tell me? What are you thinking?” He shouts.

You scoff, “I thought you’d be with Tess. Why did you follow me here? I wanted one fucking night without being trapped in your goddamn house!” You shout back, the music blaring around you.

“Tess?” He frowns even harder, hurt that you don’t want to be around him. “What the fuck are you talking about? What does Tess have to do with you sneaking out? You wanted to go out? I could have brought you to a better club.”

You shake your head, pushing his chest, “you fucked her last night. Don’t lie to me. I saw her leaving your room this morning. She fucking smirked at me.” You shout at him, shaking your head and turning it to hide the tears welling in your eyes.

His eyes widen, realizing that you must have seen Tess leaving this morning. You get two steps away from him before he’s chasing after you, grabbing your arm and turning you around. “I didn’t fuck her!” He shouts back over the music. “I haven’t fucked-“ he shakes his head and lets go of your arm. “Never mind, you won’t believe me anyway.”

You swallow harshly, “I- I need some air.” You tell him, pushing your way through the gyrating crowd, your clutch in your hand and you inhale deeply once you’re outside in the cool air. Joel isn’t too far behind you and you wipe your eyes, looking over at your husband. “I don’t know why you followed me here tonight.” You scoff at Joel who shakes his head. 

“I have enemies, baby. If one of them had followed you…got to you…” He trails off and you chuckle humorlessly, “well, they would’ve done you a favor. Gotten rid of me. Saved you the job.”

“I’m not getting rid of you.” He slaps his hands against his thighs and wonders why you are being so fucking difficult. “Don’t fucking talk like that.” He growls, furious at the thought of you being hurt because of him.

“Why?” You hiss, turning back towards him, “you don’t love me like I love you. You don’t want me. You- you want Tess. You want someone skinnier, prettier. You want someone you can show off. I haven’t met anyone from your family or friends. I haven’t even met Tommy’s wife. You don’t want them knowing you married the fat girl. I know you only married me so I’d keep my mouth shut but the case is closed. The DA office released the news this afternoon. No leads. Cold case. It’s done. So just divorce me so I can go back to my life because you don’t love me. God, I’m such an idiot. I fell in love with you and I’m - please. Just let me go.” You beg, unable to take his back and forth.

Joel frowns and shakes his head. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He demands. “I kept you from meeting everyone because you don’t want to stay with me!” He shoves a hand through his hair. “You can’t - every time we are together you fucking tell me how you can’t wait to go back to your life. I’m a fucking criminal! You can’t be a fucking district attorney married to a criminal!”

You choke on a sob, hating how complicated your life has become. For years, you’ve wanted to find someone, fall in love, get married. It’s happened but in the most confusing way possible. “I quit. I quit today. I can’t be a DA after watching what Tommy did. It’s not - it’s not moral so I quit my job. I tell you I can’t wait to get back to my life because that’s what I thought you wanted. To get rid of me when the case was closed by the DA and the police. I miss my old life but not for the reason you think. I miss having my freedom but most of all, I miss not being in love with you. Not feeling so much goddamn pain because you won’t ever feel the same.”

He stares at you for a moment, nearly panting, he’s breathing so hard. “I- you quit?” He whispers, shaking his head. “You quit the D.A.’s office?” You nod and he grabs you again and pulls you closer. “You’re never fuckin’ leaving.” He rasps out. “Never. I didn’t fuck Tess. I couldn’t. Not when-“ he swallows. “Not when I love you.”

Your eyes widen as he pulls you into his chest and you shouldn’t but you believe him. You believe he didn’t fuck her. “I- I love you. I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay with you.” You promise, sliding your hand up his chest until you can tangle your fingers in his hair. “I love you, Joel.” You murmur, “I love you.”

“I love you, baby.” He promises roughly. Nudging his nose against yours. “You’re mine. You told me you were mine and I’m keeping you.” He growls, pressing his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth possessively.

You moan into his mouth, feeling him push you back into the wall of the club and passersby stare but you don’t care. Your heart pounding in your chest as your husband kisses you. He pulls back after a moment and your breath mingles, “take me home, Miller.” You order, wanting him to take you home and to his bed. Joel nods, summoning the valet to get his car and you’re soon on your way back to his estate. You text your friend, apologizing and she says she doesn’t mind, she’s found a guy to occupy her and you tell her to be safe. Joel squeezes your hand as he drives and you frown, shifting to look at him. “How did you know where I was?” You ask and he tells you about Ellie. “Of course.” You chuckle softly, knowing the teenager is nothing if not a talker. 

“She loves you, you know? Wanted to tell me because she wants you to be safe.” He says and you nod, “I love her. She’s funny and she makes you smile with her silly puns. How could I not love her?” You ask him.

Joel nods, sighing softly. “She’s not had it easy. Hell, I’ve not had it easy, but she’s a good kid. A pain in my ass, but a good kid. She’s - well, she’s the entire reason I decided to marry you.” He reveals.

Your eyebrows raise, “she was?” You ask, surprised by the news and you wonder what Ellie could’ve said to have made him decide to marry you instead of kill you.

“Yeah.” Joel nods and looks back at the road. “She’s never had a mother or a mother-like figure. Tess sure as shit isn’t one. Not since she lost her husband and son ten years ago.” He tells you. “You- your worry was for your sister, your niece. You were terrified of marrying me but you would do it to protect them. I wanted Ellie to be around a woman like that, like you.” He tells you softly. “She reminds me of Sarah.”

You have heard the name before but haven’t asked him. You know from Ellie that Joel was married before, years ago, but there was never a good time to ask him about it. “Sarah?” You ask softly, wanting him to talk about it only if he wants to.

“My- my daughter.” He reveals quietly, feeling your shocked stare on him as he drives. He doesn’t look over at you, unsure of what your reaction will be. “My ex-wife and I were young, too fuckin’ young. I got her pregnant and after Sarah was born, she decided she didn’t want to be a wife and mother.” He shakes his head, unable to imagine leaving Sarah behind. “I raised her by myself. I wasn’t in the business. I was determined to keep Sarah out of it. I built houses. Me ‘n Tommy had a construction business. I was pretty good. Until….” He bites his lip. “My uncle died and it started a fuckin’ mafia power struggle. They came after me and….” He cuts himself off, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are turning white. “She was twelve.” He tells you. “Just a little girl.”

Your eyes widen, “she -?” You can’t vocalize it and tears sting in your eyes. “Oh Joel.” You choke and he swallows harshly. 

“It was another - to get power. They thought I’d crumble after losing her. I did…until I came back with a vengeance. I’ve done things…things that shouldn’t allow me to touch you, let alone be loved by you. I’ve sinned.” He confesses and you reach for his hand again. 

“Baby, oh- I'm so sorry.” You sob, leaning down to kiss the back of his hand.

He’s surprised that you are trying to comfort him. He had expected you to demand to know what he’s done. His eyes flutter and then open quickly to watch the road. “You said you felt trapped.” He reminds you softly. “Do you- you don’t like living with me?”

You shake your head, leaning back to look at him. “I like living with you but baby, I want to love living with you. I want to share a room. I want to share our lives. I want to share everything with you.”

“Tess was drunk last night.” He admits quietly. “She wanted me to fuck her, but I told her no. Told her that I was married. She begged to just sleep beside me one last time, she knew it was over. I swear to you that I didn’t fuck her. It’s just been you.”

You are surprised at the way she begged him to fuck her but not shocked. Your heart pounds when you hear him confess it’s been you, only you. “I believe you. If I find out otherwise, I don’t care what you do for a living, I’ll chop your balls off.” You promise, knowing you have to stand your ground.

He smirks when he stops at the red light, looking over at you and nodding. “I’ll give you the knife, baby.” He tells you. “I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of, but I’m no piece of shit cheater.”

You smile, knowing his morality will be a gray area for you, but you knew what you were getting into you. You love him. The real him and you won’t deny that. You want to spend the rest of your life with Joel. “I want you to take me home and make love to me. Not rough. Just the two of us. Take our time.” You tell him, kissing the back of his hand again.

Joel nods, knowing that he needs to show you some tenderness. Show you how he feels. You aren’t just some woman he’s fucking, you’re his wife and apparently, you want to stay his wife. “I can do that.” He promises. “I can be gentle. I want to show you.”

You want Joel to show you some softness. When you arrive back at the estate, he opens the door for you and escorts you inside and upstairs. You head to your room but he takes your hand, guiding you to his. A room you have never been in before. “Are you sure, baby?” You ask, knowing that he has always considered this room to be off limits to everyone, including you despite you being married on paper.

“Yes.” He nods. “The sheets have been changed, I want you in my bed. I want you to stay with me, sleep beside me.” He murmurs softly. You bite your lip and he opens the door and guides you inside, closing it behind him. It’s masculine, dark, heavy furniture but there are multiple pillows on the bed. Minimal and clean, just the way he likes it.

You admire the bedroom, large and imposing like him but simple and masculine. You like it, it feels like him. You turn to face him, tilting up to kiss his neck softly, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt. You want to see all of him. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing his chin.

“I love you too.” His hands slide down to pick up the bottom of your dress. “Wanted to punch that asshole, grinding against you.” He growls. “Thinking he had a chance with you.”

You shake your head as he pulls your dress over your body. “He never did. I was trying to push him away. Only you. It’s only you.” You promise him and gasp when he drops your dress to the floor and his hands find your ass, tugging you up against his body. You reach between you, working on his belt and you are able to pull it out from the loops without moving away from him. “I’m yours.” You promise, showing him your hand with the ring he placed on your finger. 

“Mine.” He agrees, leaning in to kiss your hand and he brings it to his chest. He closes his eyes and sighs softly before he looks at you again. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells you quietly. “The first thing I thought when I saw you was that you were pretty.” He reaches out and traces the edge of your bra. “Let me see you, baby.”

You reach behind you to unclasp your bra, “even when I was blindfolded.” You tease and he nods, “even then.” Your heart melts and you reach down to unbutton his jeans, unzipping them and pulling the zipper down. You reach in to grip his cock, hard and throbbing for you, and that thrills you

“Shit.” He hisses, rocking his hips forward. “Want you to sit on my face.” He’s wanted you to before now, but you’ve always resisted. He knows it’s your self-image preventing it, but he wants to see you ride his tongue. “Do it for me, baby.”

Your stomach twists and you’re nervous. “I- baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” You shake your head but his fingers dig into your ass. 

“You won’t.” He insists and You concede. “If i hurt you-” You trail off and he scoffs, “you won’t.” You poke his chest, “you tell me.” You insist and he snorts but nods. You step out of your shoes and push your panties down, waiting for him to get situated.

Joel peels his pants down and lays down on the bed, watching you hungrily and you awkwardly kneel on the bed. “You aren’t going to hurt me, baby. I promise you, I can push you off if I need to.” He understands your hesitation, but he’s salivating at the idea of having your pussy sitting on his face.

You shift to straddle his chest and he tuts, grabbing your ass to pull you up so you are hovering over his face. He groans at the sight of your dripping cunt and you gasp when his tongue snakes out to slide through your folds. “Fuck baby.” You moan, lowering your hips unconsciously and he groans your name when you start to relax and rest your weight over him.

He holds your hips, needing to be able to pull you back down if you shift to lift off of him. Groaning into your pussy happily when you roll your hips. His tongue flicking over your clit and then back down to push up inside you.

“Fuck.” You gasp, tilting your head back and your hands come up to grip the headboard. “Joel. Oh God. That feels so good.” You confess breathlessly as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you. You moan when his tongue flicks over your clit again and you forget to keep your posture stiff as you relax even more.

Time is completely suspended, all he cares about is making you feel good. His cock throbs and spurts pre-cum as he feels the first flood of your juices soak his mouth and you haven’t even cum yet. Groaning into your flesh as he devours you.

You feel like you are floating, his mouth on your clit and his tongue pushing deep inside of you. You finally give in to the feelings and grind down onto his face. “Oh fuck Joel. It’s - you’re too good. So good baby.” You whimper, feeling like you could die and be happy. He makes you feel like you are on cloud nine. “Oh God. I love you.” You whine, fingers gripping the headboard.

He can’t talk, but he squeezes your hips, eager to hear you say that again. He loves you, he knows he does. You’ve burrowed your way into his cold heart like Ellie has and he would murder for you, he would die for you.

You are so close. Grinding down onto his face a little more. “Fuck baby. I love you. I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna - oh shit!” You hiss, thighs pressing against his head and you worry in the back of your mind if you’re suffocating him.

Joel groans, eyes fluttering closed as he works you through the most satisfying orgasm he’s ever pulled out of you. He knows you love it from how you are moaning and panting his name.

You try to catch your breath, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you relax from your orgasm. “Baby. Oh God. That was-” You pant, shifting off of his face and you shuffle down his body until you are kneeling between his legs. You reach out to grip his cock and take him into your mouth.

“Shit.” You’ve blown him, of course you have. You’ve been fucking for two months, but tonight, you seem desperate to suck his fucking soul out through his cock. “Oh fuck, baby, god damn you have such a good mouth.” His toes curl and his legs twitch when you reach down and fondle his balls in your hand.

You watch him, his eyes closing and his fingers find the back of your head. You pull off of his cock for a moment, continuing to pump him in your hand. “I love you, my handsome husband.” You coo, taking him back into your mouth until he’s pulling you off of him.

“I need to be inside you, baby.” He pants, pulling you up and rolling you over in one smooth move. “I love you, my sexy wife.” He growls, biting your bottom lip and smirking at you.

You smile against his mouth, caressing his cheeks as he hovers over you. You lift your legs up to wrap around his waist and he shuffles closer on his knees, reaching down to grip his cock so he can start to push inside of you. “I love you.” You sigh when he’s fully inside of you, feeling like you’re where you belong.

“I love you too.” He groans quietly, pushing his arms underneath your back and holding you close. He wants to be as close as he can as he kisses your lips.

You whimper and he starts to move inside of you, making you cling to him. There’s nothing rough, no choking, no spanking. It’s soft and sweet and everything you’ve ever wanted from your marriage, from your husband. “Feel so good. Always feel so good. No one has ever made me feel this way before.”

“Good.” He chokes out, burrowing his face into your neck and inhaling your sweet scent. “You are so soft and perfect. You take me when I’m rough and beg for more.” He praises you softly. “And I want more of this. More intimacy. Soft. I’ll be soft for you.”

You know he will give you that, he’s showing now that he’s capable of that and you understand his rougher side. You enjoy it but this makes you feel so connected to Joel. “I love all of you. Every side of you. Whatever you give me. I want it all.” You promise breathlessly, caressing his back and one hand slides up to run your fingers through his hair.

Joel practically purrs when your fingers are in his hair. His hips slow down and he barely rocks into you. “I- I never would have killed you. Or your sister.” He promises you. “I don’t hurt women or kids.”

You know that now, understanding his character, and you want to tell your sister about your husband, have her meet him. “I know, baby. I know that now. I know you are good. Deep down, you’re a good man.” You assure him, kissing his neck. “I love that about you. Only I know that you’re good. Me and Ellie know.” You promise, rocking your hips up to meet his.

He’s overwhelmed that you believe in him so firmly. His heart is pounding and he knows that you are his purpose, you and Ellie. He will take care of you and her until he takes his last breath.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, it seems like you spend hours under the rocking of his hips until he shifts and presses his fingers to your clit. “Want you to cum for me, baby.” He murmurs into your neck and you whine, bucking up into his touch. 

“Yes. Yes. Going to cum for you.” You promise, walls fluttering around his cock.

Joel kisses you tenderly, feeling your pulse jump under his lips. “Love you so much baby, you’re so good.” He praises, noting how much you preen under the compliments. You deserve them. You deserve better than him but by some miracle, you love him. “So perfect for me. My beautiful, sexy woman.”

You gasp, clamping down on his cock, unable to stop yourself with the raspy compliments he pours into your ear. “Oh. Oh. Oh.” You pant, clenching your eyes shut as you cum, soaking him with your juices.

“That’s it, that’s it darlin’.” He groans, his tongue lapping at your salty skin as he works you through your orgasm and chases his own. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

You need him to fill you up. “Cum for me. Cum for me, Joel.” You plead into his neck, nails digging into his flesh as he rocks into you, his hips slapping against your thighs and there’s nothing but the two of you in this moment. He pushes deep a half dozen thrusts later, he’s spilling into you, painting your walls, and you love it. You love him. You hum, closing your eyes as he rests his head on your chest, his breath puffing hot on your skin.

Joel feels like he’s pulled apart. His heart bursting happily as he catches his breath. “I love you.” He sighs. It might not have been ideal for you to witness Tommy murdering someone, it scared you and he hates that. But being a mafia boss brought you into his life and he’s grateful for that. Happy to have you as his wife, forever.

[medlarmeadows]

a close streamer friend gaming with charlie or doing a ylyl stream with him?? but secretly in love with him? and the chat picks up on it and they end up trending on twitter with their ship name???? which kinda forces the two of them to confront and talk about their feelings???

only if you want to write this, of course <3 i love charlie i cannot get enough of your writing

Thank you for the request and your kind words anon! This was so fun to write and really is a feel good fluffy fic. I hope this piece is up to your expectations :)

-

you smile you snooze (i do, when i’m with you)

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x streamer!reader

Synopsis: You Laugh You Lose turns out to be a lot harder when Charlie lights up your life with every smile.

Warning(s): light swearing.

Word count: 1.4k

masterlist || requests are open!

“Okay, enough! We need to up the stakes.”

You raise an eyebrow at your good friend, Charlie, who sits by your side in his own office chair. The both of you have headphones on, the sound of a submitted funny video streaming through them.

“What do you mean?” you feign confidence, switching your gaze between Charlie and the camera. “The stakes are pretty high at the moment, I mean, we both have one heart left.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the one heart on each of your corners of the OBS scene.

“Yeah, for the past thirty minutes,” he argues. “We need to up the ante! More viewership! Mo-ney.”

He throws out the last parts jokingly, making you roll your eyes and bite your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

Giving in, because you always do, you ask, “So, what do you suggest?”

Charlie snaps his fingers towards the audience.

“Instead of You Laugh You Lose, we’re now playing,” he pauses dramatically, “You Smile You Snooze!”

True to your job as a streamer, you insert your own flavour of entertainment by slumping down in your chair exasperatedly.

“Charlie,” you whine, “that’s going to be so hard.”

“Exactly why we’re going to do it,” he insists, staring back at you for your confirmation.

You grumble and glare at him briefly before glancing at chat, curious to see what their opinions were:

yes, up the stakes! it was getting boring anyways we’ll see who’s the best at not smiling i bet y/n’s gonna lose y/n can’t keep her smiles to herself! mods run a poll? have you seen how y/n looks at charlie? she’ll lose immediately she’s a goner, she smiles whenever she looks at Charlie

You blink hard. Certain chat messages sear into your corneas.

Were you that obvious?

Glancing back at Charlie, you realise that he’s still staring at you, patiently waiting for your response. You feel your cheeks warm, even though you’re certain that he hasn’t read the chat yet.

Not being able to smile at your good friend turned crush was going to be a huge struggle for you.

You sigh.

Goddamnit, you were going to lose, but anything for the views, right?

“Fine,” you answer resolutely. “You Smile You Snooze it is!”

And so, the two of you resume the media playlist with the new challenge of not smiling. The submitted videos turned out to not be that challenging to stay poker-faced at, but Charlie’s quips would often tickle your funny bone in a way that had you breathing in slowly to keep your poker face.

Curse Charlie and his good humour.

The two of you made it through a good fifteen minutes without anything crazy happening, until someone submits an edit of the YLYL stream.

“What’s this? You guys are fast,” comments Charlie.

“This better not be an embarrassing one,” you add, biting your lower lip to prepare yourself for the worse.

The edit gets straight to the point, compiling all the moments from the stream thus far of you smiling at Charlie. Heartwarming music floods your ears, barely piercing through the sudden blood rushing through your eardrums.

Panicked, your eyes glance at chat before you can stop yourself:

whoever made that is doing the Lord’s work isn’t that a little against their boundaries? what’s their duo name? no shipping guys! aw they’re actually really cute wish someone would look at me the way y/n looks at charlie

Charlie’s voice interrupts your reading, jolting you slightly:

“Dude, we should’ve done You Smile You Snooze earlier,” he snorts. “You would’ve lost so bad from the beginning.”

You turn your head to look at Charlie with wide eyes, thoughts reeling about whether he was teasing for the sake of teasing or if he was beginning to catch on to you, when you notice the expression on his face.

The way his eyes crinkle a little. The way the corners of his mouth are lifted.

He’s smiling.

“YOU’RE SMILING!” you yell at him, pointing a finger at him.

His expression turns shocked at your outburst, before he leans back in his chair in defeat.

“Damnit,” he says, although he doesn’t sound all that upset about the loss.

Meanwhile, you get out of your chair and start a victory dance for yourself, losing yourself in the euphoria of winning the YLYL stream.

You miss the fond smile that rises back on Charlie’s face as he gazes at you.

-

“Yo, we’re trending on Twitter,” Charlie says in between bites.

It’s been two hours since the YLYL stream. You’re still at Charlie’s place because he insisted that the two of you should just have dinner and hang out together while you’re there. You didn't object.

“We are?” you ask curiously, scooting closer to Charlie to look at his phone screen.

“Mm,” he replies nonchalantly, clicking on a post and passing the phone to you. “We even have a ship name now.”

“What?”

Your eyes bulge from your sockets and you stare at Charlie. He shrugs, too calm and collected for your racing heart, and gestures for you to have a look at the tweet he pulled up.

It begins with a hashtag of your ship name, followed by “get you a duo that smiles at each other the way charlie and y/n smile at each other”. Below that was a side-by-side comparison of two screenshots from the YLYL stream, one of you smiling at Charlie while he wasn’t looking, and vice versa.

Your eyes glance back and forth between the phone screen and Charlie’s expression. While your brain is working a hundred miles an hour to come up with some sort of damage control, Charlie looks relaxed, almost satisfied or relieved.

“I – We – ” your words stutter as you struggle to focus on a topic. When you look back at Charlie, you scoot yourself a little away from him, nerves suddenly taking over from the proximity and the tweet.

Finally, you settle on accusation:

“Why are you so calm?”

“I mean,” Charlie reaches for another piece of fried chicken, “it’s no big deal. We’re friends. Let the chat think what they want to think. Unless… ”

He trails off, taking a bite of his chicken and chewing too slowly for it not to be deliberate.

“Unless what?” you push. You’re sure you look a little frazzled, still embarrassed and shocked by the post and the emergence of a ship name.

Charlie swallows before leaning closer, closing the gap that you created, saying:

“Unless you actually like me.”

You stare at him. It feels as though something in your brain has short circuited as you register his statement. As you juggle around the possible answers you could give and the potential situations they could create.

You know your face is turning red, what with how your cheeks are warming and how fast your heart is racing, so you shove Charlie’s shoulder a little first, unable to give an actual answer yet.

Letting you push him, he leans back, away from you, a smile lifting on his face.

“It’s okay if you do. I like you too.”

You stare again, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as you try to come up with something intelligible to say.

“Huh?”

Charlie is laughing now, full-bellied, head thrown back. At his response, you bristle a little, overthinking his words.

“Wait,” you say nervously. “Do you actually like me?”

You fiddle with his phone, dropping your eyes to the screen to examine the tweet again. Studying the screenshots, you can’t help but think that the kind of smile Charlie wore was the same one you had whenever you looked at him.

The phone is gently pried from your grip and placed face down on the table, forcing you to look at its owner. Instead of the humour that filled his eyes, Charlie now looks at you with utmost sincerity.

“I’m being serious. I like you.”

Staring into Charlie’s eyes, taking in the face of the man that made you smile in every situation, you find yourself being honest:

“I like you too.”

His eyes brighten, and the smile appears on his face again. The same smile that he wore in the screenshot, you realise. His smile is infectious, causing your lips to lift into a wide smile that reaches your eyes.

“Guess we’re both snoozing and losing today,” you quip, sending Charlie into a fit of chuckles before he’s pulling you close to him.

When Charlie retweets the aforementioned tweet, Twitter goes nuts for days.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Fan Mail

June Prompt: Song By Blondie | Word Count: 876 | Rating: T | Characters: Steve, Robin, Eddie | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Canon Divergence, No Upside Down, Steve "I'm a Big Fan" Harrington, Platonic Stobin

For a song by Blondie, I picked Fan Mail.

The crumpled ball of paper hits the wall, banking off and falling straight into the trash can. At least his aim is good, even if his writing isn't. Steve looks up at the poster over his desk, and sighs. He's fucking pathetic. Seriously, is his plan really that he's gonna write Eddie "The Freak" Munson with some, what, fan mail? Yeah, that's a great fucking plan. 

Hi, remember me? We went to high school together. I was a bit of a dick, but I'm hoping you've forgotten that. You're pretty hot up on that stage. Call me.

Yeah, right. 

He's definitely aborting this mission. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

A few weeks later, Steve pulls a stack of letters out of the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk, junk, bill…and then his stomach drops with dread. A red envelope, with the Corroded Coffin logo drawn in the corner, where the return address should be.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

Steve takes it to the kitchen counter and sits it down, filled with dread. He didn't lose his mind and actually mail one of those goddamn letters, right? Surely he'd remember doing something as unhinged as that. 

He wants to open it, but he also really doesn't want to know what's inside.

So, it sits. For an hour, a day, a week.

It sits until Robin swings by one day, and picks it up like the Nosey Nellie she is, "What's this, dingus?"

Steve reaches for it, trying to grab it from her grubby little hands, "Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like it's nothing," she crows, and holds it behind her back. 

"Robin, give it to me," he warns, low and pissy. If he opens it, it's gonna be on his own terms. And that's a big if. As long as he leaves it alone, he'll never have to know what's inside. Good, bad or ugly.

"Why haven't you opened it? Maybe it's important," she says, "maybe it's from Eddie."

And he knows. He suddenly knows exactly what's happened here, and he's gonna kill her.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"What you were too chickenshit to," she says, and she presses the envelope to his chest.

"Goddamnit, Robin," Steve says, feeling embarrassed and sick, "they weren't, I wasn't, ready."

Robin's eyes soften, "I know you, Steve. You'd never be ready."

She's not wrong, she's not, but still. She shouldn't have done this to him. It could be classified as a hate crime, he's pretty sure. And maybe even tampering with the U.S. mail. That's a federal offense. He could have her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

"Quit daydreaming about my demise, and just open it. Then you can kill me if you need to," she says, and he nods, sliding onto the stool at the counter. 

He slides his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tugs, ripping it open, pulling out the letter. When he unfolds it, two tickets fall onto the counter and Robin reaches for them, and he just lets her. 

And he reads. 

It's short, and funny, and not as embarrassing as he'd feared. Eddie seems happy to have heard from him, and the two tickets are an invitation. It seems casual, but Steve knows better.

Holy shit.

He's actually made a fucking pass at Eddie Munson, and he seems to have made one back? What is happening right now? For real. 

"Well?" Robin asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient. 

"He invited me, us, to their show in Indy next month."

"See? I told you it'd be fine, dingus," she says, and he nods.

He spins on his chair, to face her full-on, "What version did you send?"

Steve suddenly needs to know how embarrassed he needs to be right now.

"The least stalkerish one, I swear," she says, "and I included a note from me, so he'd know, you weren't exactly aware it was being mailed."

That's probably more embarrassing, he thinks. Like he was just sitting there, pining, like a fool, and his best friend had to intervene.

Eddie must think he's the fucking freak, now. 

The tickets are good. Really good, Steve has suddenly realized, as they stand right next to the stage. They aren't front and center, more off to the side, but still. Right there. Front row. Where Eddie will definitely be able to see them, and know they came, if he just looks down.

And he does. 

As soon as he hits the stage, he comes right to their side, squats down, and reaches out to hand Steve something. Steve's frozen, eyes locked on Eddie's, so it's Robin's hand that reaches out and takes the folded up piece of paper he's offering.

Once Eddie's gone from in front of them, taking his spot center stage and getting the show started, Robin is unfolding the piece of paper. 

Steve leans over her shoulder, and it's dark. Nearly too dark to read, but it's fan mail. Right back. Talking about how he'd always liked looking at him, too, back in high school.

That he'd like to look at him a little bit more after the show tonight, if Steve is interested.

Oh.

Steve is definitely interested.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[mamirhodessxox]

😭😭 need a fic of him just in interrupting reader while baking ( reader could be a baker and trying new recipes to add to their menu )

Cherries On Top

Cody Rhodes x Baker Fem!Reader

Desc: Y/N is trying to focus on adding new sweet treats to her bakery’s menu but her husband tends to be a distraction.

Contents: Fluff, Cody being a little annoying but in a tolerable way, SMALL indications of smut, Y/N being a lil cutie Patootie!

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Before Y/N & Cody established a relationship between them Y/N had a small little bakery filled with alll sorts of sweets & treats! Once a month she would spend an entire day whipping up pies & cakes and many other scones & sweets to add on the menu at her little bakery & do cooking youtube videos & Today was that day.

Y/N was in the middle of recording in the kitchen, Cody would walk by every now and then or stand behind her and watch over her shoulder to see what she was doing. But then he became more vocal.

She was currently working on a bourbon pound cake. “Don’t you need measuring cups for this part?” He questioned while his hand ran up and down her back while his wife shrugged “I’m just gonna add like a few shot glasses worth of bourbon.” He shot open his eyes and looked over at her camera set up and shook his head dramatically “She’s gonna get me drunk with a cake.” Since he was video bombing Y/N she decided that she would put him to a little work and start stirring the cake mix while she poured bourbon into the mix very carefully & poured him a small shot as a reward which he pridefully took

Y/N was instructing her future viewers how to carefully put the mixture into the pan & how long to leave it in the oven but Cody randomly popped back into the kitchen “Check out my gun.” She looked up as he interrupted her speech & smiled “It’s a salt shooter my dad got it for him.” “Maybe next time I make steak I can season salt onto it with my cool gun yeah?” She shook her head “No because you’re gonna break something. Just use your hands.” He glared for a second and sassily shook his head “I won’t break anything.”

6 minutes later Y/N worked on another small pastry while the cake was in the oven & suddenly the lights started flickering & she laughed a little before he walked back into camera frame “What are you whipping up now?” “Blueberry crois-“ “Hold on wait I have a quick question what did 50 cent do when he was hungry? 58.” “Your not funny.” He shrugged with a smug smile “I’m actually very funny.” She hummed nodding slowly “whatever helps you sleep at night my love.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at a bowl full of flour.

Hmmmm…….

Interesting…..

What if he just….

“CODY GARRET RUNNELS GODDAMNIT I’M GOING TO KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP!” Y/N stood there frozen as he actively poured flour over her head while letting out a mischievous laugh “uh ohh she said the full na-“ she splashed him in the face with water “well deserved.” She glared up at him & picked up her bowl filled with yet to be stirred eggs while grinning to herself as her husband backed up and raised his hands in defense “No…Y/N….” She squinted and nodded “your right that would be to messy.” She sighed while he let out a chuckle of relief but she caved & poured the eggs all over him making him gasp and look at her while she giggled & grabbed the flour bag before shaking what remained inside all over him before he turned starring at a glass of milk that sat on the counter next to one of the bowls it was supposed to be inside of.

Eventually she gave up on the video she tried making & giggled while playfully kissing her lover while he grinned biting her lip a little & grip at her waist “You sure you don’t wanna take it any furth-“ she nodded immediately and pulled away before prancing up the stairs to get clean “C’mon Codes your filthy.”

This was just the Cherry On Top for Cody, he immediately tossed away the kitchen towel & followed behind her before giving Y/N a light smack on the butt chuckling

“The shower is your best idea yet sweetheart.”

“Pervert.”

mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

LOVE TO HATE YOU ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pairing: percy jackson x demeter!fem!reader

warnings: swearing + minor violence (punches basically)

a/n: i wanted to write some percy jackson enemies to lovers (sorta) so here we are!! i don't know how i feel about this one but enjoy! (also im changing the layout of my fics - in case you couldn't already tell :))

look.

when percy showed up for sword training this morning, the last thing he was expecting was to be paired with you.

i mean hey! at least he could take his anger out on you and nobody would notice or care for that matter - well y'know... except you.

being thrown on you ass for the fifteenth time in a row really wasn't on your agenda for today. and you'd had enough.

"goddamnit jackson!" you yell when you get up again. "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"right back at you y/l/n!" percy hisses.

seething you narrow your eyes at him. "i swear to fucking god, i'm going to kick your ass."

"right, cause you seem to be doing really well at that."

you launch at percy. why? why is he like this? why is he popular and nice to everybody but you? why?? why is he infuriatingly handsome? from his soft looking hair, to his blue-green eyes- wait, what?

where'd that come from?

you're supposed to be angry at him.

your fist connects with percy's jaw and he stumbles back in shock. his eyes land on you in a deadly promise as he flys at you himself.

"you're honestly so annoying, i don't know how i put up with you," he sends a punch to your face and your head snaps back, your eyes filling with tears. fucking hell.

arms wrap around you then, pulling you back from attacking percy more. you swing your arm back accidentally knocking the person in the face causing them to cry out. "oh shit! im so sorry!" you exclaim turning around to comfort annabeth.

"fuck annabeth, im so sorry."

you're a child of demeter, the most violent thoughts you've had all week is how you accidentally made a strawberry explode. you shouldn't be thinking about how the next time percy comes near you, you're going to strangle him with the nearest vine. no, scratch that you're going to strangle him reguardless.

you crouch down next to annabeth worry in you eyes, "are you okay?"

annabeth nods and takes your hand when you offer to help her up. "i'm fine, but you two," she says waving a hand between percy - whose still pissed by the way - and you. "need to sort out whatever shit you're fighting over."

percy looks over at you a scowl etched on his face and his arm still captured by luke. "yeah fine whatever." he throws his sword down on the ground before stalking away growling about how everything's going to shit.

"what is with him today?" luke asks walking over and picking up percy's sword.

"i don't know!" you huff exasperated. "he's been like this all morning. i was the one on the receiving end of it!"

"well i'm like ninety percent sure punching him wasn't the best way to go about that," luke says still watching percy walk away.

"well you try being kicked on your ass fifteen times in a row," you snap shoving past grover. a little part of you is sorry for how you're treating them but honestly you're so sick of the way percy treats you.

the way he's kind and caring to everyone else but you. the way he always calls you names and groans whenever you're paired up. the way he rolls his eyes whenever you talk never bothering to listen.

it pisses you off how he's attentive to other campers, how he has the prettiest smile and looks amazing in that navy shir- woah woah woah what?

nope, you're not even going to think about that. about the crush you've had on him ever since he arrived at camp. you two had gotten along for the first few days and then, boom, he's hated you ever since.

you dont even know what you did to make him suddenly hate you. but deep down, you've always had a feeling that maybe he knows about your feelings - though you've never, ever, said anything about them - and they repulse him. so to cover that up you've gone right ahead and hated him - for the most part - back.

you slam the door shut of your cabin and flop onto your bed groaning loudly into your pillow. mostly out of annoyance a little out of actual pain. you slowly start to drift off then only realising you've fallen asleep when your sibling gently shakes you awake.

"y/n? its dinner time."

you groan softly and thank the girl for waking you before making your way to the mess hall laughing at the jokes your siblings are making, and feeling much calmer - and not violent.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

there are perks to living in a cabin all by yourself. percy found this out a few weeks after tyson had left - yes he misses tyson - but having a cabin to freely scream into a pillow, was pretty neat as well.

gods percy hated y/n sometimes.

she was the most annoying, know-it-all, shrill, person ever. like seriously how is she so talented at annoying him? its like a god given gift.

whipping his pillow back onto his bed percy sinks down onto the mattress feeling it dip with his weight. he hated how he reacted earlier.

did he seriously fucking punch you? did he actually punch a girl? anybody's mom would be disappointed in them if they found out their son punched a girl, but sally jackson? you'd have to come up with a whole new word for what she'd feel.

gods he was stupid.

he fucking punched a girl.

even worse he punched y/n.

the first thing he did then was pick up a discarded drachma and send an iris message to his mom.

when sally turned around to see percy, her face changed instantly from excited to be getting a call to worry.

"percy? whats wrong?"

"i fucked up mom."

"language," his mom scolded. "but how did you mess up?"

percy hesitated not wanting to tell his mom that he hit a girl. "i hurt y/n."

"y/n?" sally's eyes flash with surprise. over the years she'd heard of the infamous y/n. percy would always complain about her, or just talk about her. but no matter the time he'd always bring her up in a conversation - i mean sure most of the time he was whining about how she'd pissed him off, but he'd still talk about her.

"yeah, i- i don't know what to do."

sally's eyes soften, when she sees the way percy is distressed. "you could apologise?"

percy looks down and runs his hands through his hair. "i don't think she'd believe me, mom."

"it's always better to try, i'm sure even though she might not show it, y/n would appreciate it." she purses her lips trying to hide a smile as she thought of what to say next. "besides i thought we didn't like y/n."

percy's head snaps up and he shrugs. "we don't... not like her," he starts. "we- i- i just hated the way she fit into camp, when i first came here. she was like their perfect camper, she even went to the lenghts of being nice to me! but i just, ugh." percy sighs. "it was always so hard for me to see her being so comfortable with everyone, she's only been at camp for like three weeks more than me and she was already practically ruling the place!"

he stands up starting to pace the room as sally sits patiently listening to him. "and then i iced her out and started treating her like shit - i know, sorry about the swearing - and she started acting the same way towards me so there was no way i could just- uh." he runs his hands through his hair for like the millionth time. "i just messed up. and now whenever i talk to her i can practically feel her dislike towards me."

sally is quiet for a moment and when she does finally speak, she says something that percy didn't expect. "do you like her?"

"i- what?" his bewildered expression facing sally.

"do you like y/n?"

a frown crease percy's forehead, and just as he's about to answer the door to his cabin swings open and annabeth and luke storm inside.

"i'll leave you guys to it! love you percy, talk soon," sally smiles from behind percy and the iris message dissolves.

"you need to go apologise to y/n right now," annabeth huffs.

"hey! she hit me first!" percy defends.

"yes i know, luke and i have just given her this exact talk. so listen percy jackson, you, are going to grow a pair of balls and talk to y/n. no fucking name calling or bickering, just plain talking. and if you don't, i'm going to sneak in here in the middle of the night and cut your dick off."

luke clears his throat and places a hand on annabeth's shoulder pulling her back. "okay... annabeth, take a chill pill." he turns back to you. "but seriously jackson, annabeths right - minus the dick cutting and shit - talk to the girl."

sighing percy just looks up not bothering to even fight anymore.

"i'll take that dejected sigh as a hell yeah," annabeth smiles. "y/n will be waiting for you at the end of the dock after dinner - which by the way is right now."

without even giving him the chance to object annabeth - and luke, i guess - usher percy out of the cabin and to the mess hall, snickering behind him about how he's secretly in love with y/n.

which....

'do you like y/n?' his mom's question flits into his mind.

does he?

maybe on some level he's had a crush on her since he came to camp.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the water lapped at the edge of the dock posts.

you had been sitting here for five minutes - as per a very huffy and flustered annabeth's request - why you're sitting here? you actually don't know.

the moonlight shines down on the earth and you smile at the serenity of the moment. footsteps sound from behind you and you don't bother looking back - thinking its just annabeth coming to tell you why she wants you to wait here.

but the second his scent hits you, you tense up, his body radiating heat when he sits down next to you.

"hi."

you turn to face him. "hey." you're both quiet for a moment. "annabeth set you up too?"

percy nods and chuckles, "gotta love when she meddles."

you shoot him a look. "when annabeth meddles, you know things are either going horribly wrong or horribly wrong."

percy laughs and you can't help but smile at how simple the moment is and that you're not arguing.

"i'm sorry."

"i'm so sorry."

you both freeze at your double apology and look at one another. a new tension settling over the both of you. not the fierce type when you're both angry at the other, but a new type, a gentler one.

resting your hand on the dock you look out to the water, tensing up when you feel a warm hand cover your own.

your buried feelings rise very close to the surface and you curiously look over to percy, to find him earnestly looking at you.

"y/n... im so fucking sorry about earlier."

"hey its not entirely your fault," you offer. "i mean i punched you first."

"no, thats not it, i mean yeah, i'm very sorry about this morning, but i'm also sorry for the last like four years. i treated you ike dog shit and i have no excuse for it."

your soft eyes nearly send percy over the edge of the dock. he was finally doing this, he was finally going to tell you the truth.

"when you came to camp a few weeks ahead of me, i was jealous at how fast you had managed to fit in, how quick everyone seemed to accept you. it made me angry and i started to resent you," you suck in a breath at percy's explanation. "i resented you for like three weeks tops, by the way, and when you started to treat me the same way i thought you hated me too. by the time i had found my place in camp and had finally started to relax, it was too late for me to just stop suddenly acting shit towards you." percy rushes out. "so i kept treating you that way, i called you names and started fights with you because having any of your focus on me - even if it was bad - was worth it. i hated you because you were practically perfect and i could see it in every way. i hated you most of all because i didn't hate you at all."

the air is sucked out from between you.

"w-what?" you whisper. "you don't hate me?"

"no."

"i don't hate you either!" you rush out suddenly needing him to know. you're like two seconds off floating off the earth, the warmth of his hand practically grounding you to the dock.

percy's heart swells, "you don't?" his voice is whisper soft.

"no."

percy seizing his chance, slides closer to you angling his head towards your in question as he stares at your mouth.

you catching on quickly, nodding to him, grinning internally at how this moment - one you've dreamed of for years is finally about to happen.

he presses a soft kiss to your mouth, his hands shooting to the sides of your face holding you as if you're the worlds most precious gem. fireworks explode low in your stomach as if to remind you that you're kissing percy jackson, you're kissing percy jackson!!

your hand makes its way to the back of his neck holding him there and pulling him impeccably closer. your heart rockets when you pull back for air and percy makes a whining noise.

you shuffle closer to him then, basking in his warmth. only now just noticing the small vines and flowers that have twisted their way onto the dock and curled around your ankles.

grinning percy turns back to you running a hand on the back of your head and pulling you back for another kiss.

somewhere in the back ground you can hear annabeth victory cheering and laughing with luke but you don't care. at this point nothing could tear you away from the boy who's kissing you, who's holding you with such reverence you'd think he was holding a priceless artifact.

a/n: lol sorry this was so long (un-edited btw!! i stayed up wayyyy too late to even think about editing this lol)

© strawberries-and-summer-days please do not steal, use or repost my works.

[hemingwaystan]

I LOVE THIS FANDOM BUT I AM SO DONE WITH YOU MFS DRAWING AND RENDERING AND CREATING AND WRITING DONNA WITHOUT HER EYE CADOU OR SCAR!!! DO NOT YOU REALIZE THAT'S PART OF WHAT MAKES HER SO ATTRACTIVE?!?!?!? HOW CAN YOU COMFORT HER ABOUT HER APPEARANCE??? SHE'S NOT SOME 14 Y/O WHO FEELS FAT ONE AFTERNOON. SHE'S BEAUTIFUL WITH OR WITHOUT THE SCAR AND YOU MFS SIMPLIFY HER CHARACTER BY REMOVING IT! SHE NEEDS TO KNOW THAT AND SO DO YOU GODDAMNIT! Apologies for this deluded rant, it's just, c'mon people, a lot of the scar-less art and fic is really good, it's usually really good shit, it's just it simplifies her character, it's part of why she's so beautiful and not all but some of you mfs keep creating images of her as a mourning robed bimbo.

[bookshelf-dust]

pouring out the sun

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 6,988

warnings: swearing, chubby!reader, reader deals with specific body insecurities, swimsuit wearing, brief mention of blood?, post-starcourt billy, slight sexual innuendos (let me know if i missed anything)

a/n: well, um, it’s been a little over a month since you got a fic from me. i took a break from writing, but my mental health only got worse, so clearly it didn’t work too well. this fic was meant to be a way for me to work through some things, so beware of that. i thought maybe someone else might need it too, or might even understand, in some way. i know i don’t usually do specifics regarding reader, but this is really for me. also, the title is a reference to the song of achilles, but it seemed fitting. i hope this turned out okay. i know it’s a lot, but it’s something. <33

————

The wall behind you is starting to make your back ache. The chill you’d felt through your shirt when you’d first situated yourself against it is long gone. You pull your knees up as close as you can get them and wrap your arms around your calves. 

Billy has pressed himself into the footboard of your bed. He’s staring at you and your obstinance makes you stare right back. He crosses his arms, and your gaze flickers to the way his biceps shift with the movement. He’d tease you if he weren't so determined to challenge your stubbornness with his own. 

“How long?” you question, pressing your cheek into the skin of your knee and letting your eyes flutter closed.

“A week. Maybe two,” he answers. 

You scoff and roll your neck so that your forehead can take the place of your cheek. “Oh, holy shit,” you say, voice muffled by your legs. “Yeah, that’s a no.”

Billy rolls his eyes, and even if you can’t see him, you can feel it. He runs a hand down his face. You have your moments, where you can be incredibly difficult, but this is something different. It’s almost like you’re frustrated in some way, and it frustrates Billy that he can’t pinpoint why. 

“You sound like Harrington.” He pushes off the bed and lands a playful slap to the side of your calf before walking out of the room, hoping a bit of pacing might help him figure out what to do.

Billy has wanted to go back to California since he got to Hawkins, though now he seems to be content with a simple vacation, rather than being in a rush to move back. When he brought it up again today, telling you firmly that he is going, you thought it sounded lovely. That it’d be good for him, that maybe he’d take Max and they’d do some family bonding or something. But that’s not what he’d said.

He wants you to go with him.

And you hate the beach. With a burning, fiery passion. 

Despite this, there’s a voice in the back of your head that tells you you’ll end up going anyway–just for him. But right now, the idea of going to California makes you nauseous. 

Sitting in a hot car for the length of that trip, sweating your ass off, baking in the sun, being trapped on the beach for hours? What’s so fun about all of that? And then there’s the matter of a swimsuit. Billy has certainly never seen you in one, and he definitely doesn’t know that you got rid of the ones that were once in your possession. 

He traipses back into the room, making you look up. It’s as if he’s somehow sensed that you were lost in thought, that you were being unkind to yourself. He doesn’t like it when you shit on his girl.

“Look,” Billy starts, leaning against the doorframe. “If you really don’t want to go, I’m not gonna force you or anything.”

He pauses, and you slide further down the wall until your back rests firmly against the mattress. You force yourself to make eye contact with him–only for a moment. 

“I just thought it might be nice to have you with me. I wanted to take you home.” His mouth tips up in a grin at that last bit. He’s guilt tripping you. 

“Goddamnit, William.” You slap your hands over your eyes, shielding yourself from him like he might up and turn you to stone. You’ve never fancied being a garden statue. 

“I just…I don’t know, Billy. There’s a lot for me to think about.” You pull your hands back and his face is inches from yours. It makes you jump, but makes his mouth twist into a Cheshire cat grin. Contrary to the way his boots usually announce his presence, he’s partial to moving like a cat when no one else is around. “Jesus.”

He presses his palms into the bed on either side of you and sits so that his thighs bracket your own. This way you can’t run when he asks you why you’re so insistent about not going to California with him.

“You mean there’s a lot for you to overthink about.” His hands find your sides, thumbs sweeping over the soft of your belly. Your mind jumps to the pudge you know lies underneath your shirt, the very thing that prevents you from wearing the teeny bikinis Heather Holloway runs around in. Right now you can’t bear to have him touch you, and you push his hands off. 

You give him an agitated look, and again that feeling, that he can’t quite pinpoint what’s going on, crawls up Billy’s abdomen and prods at his throat. “What? Like that’s not what you were doing when I came back in here?”

He goes to rest his hands on your thighs, the bare skin calling to him, skin he wants to grasp, knowing how pliant it will be, how it might move under his fingertips, but he stops himself. He thinks that you’ll just push him off again, so he settles for planting them back against the mattress, though close enough that he can feel the warmth of you–close enough that you’re still tangible.

You sigh. He mocks the sound, pitching his voice up just that little bit higher. You cover your face with your palms once more. 

“Look,” Billy starts, “I’ll take care of everything. There’s really nothing for you to worry about. You know I’ve been saving for this since I got here.”

You nod behind your hands, and Billy recognizes it as a gesture you make when you’re about to cry. He swears his heart drops out of his ass. 

“Hey, hey, hey–what’s going on in there?” He pulls at your wrists, a gentle grip, but more than enough to be firm. You let him move your hands away, and he sets them on your belly, but even that seems to be wrong. You’re quick to remove them, not being able to stand the squish of your own flesh. 

You aren’t crying, but your eyes are a little glassy. Billy thinks whatever tears might’ve been about to spill, you’ve willed away. You inhale.

“Billy, I can’t just go to the beach.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t look like you.”

If you could manage to look at him, you’d see the way Billy’s brows meet, maybe even catch the way his breath hitches in his throat. He connects the dots, all at once. Suddenly he knows what you mean.

Last summer, when you were still just friends, you’d come and eat lunch with him on his break. But never once did you actually go swimming, always just taking off when he had to continue his shift. Billy had secretly hoped you’d stay and lounge, at least, during one of the many times you dropped Max or Dustin off. You never did. 

He’s not even sure he ever saw you in something other than jeans then. Hell, you’re wearing shorts right now, in the comfort of your own home, but you don’t ever leave the house in them. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t the thought at least occurred to him?

He thinks about all the times you avoid mirrors, or looking at other people. How you never want to go shopping, how all of your clothes are just that little bit too big. He realizes it’s serving you a purpose. You’re trying to hide–from Hawkins, from him, from yourself.

Billy feels like he’s been punched, or maybe like someone’s poured ice water down the back of his shirt. Still he teases. He needs to.

“Well, contrary to popular belief, I'm really not that into myself. So I’m actually pretty damn grateful that you don’t look like me.”

He tracks your shaky inhale. The teasing has failed him, and he doesn’t want to see you cry.

Billy moves off of your lap in hopes that it might help pull you out of your head for a moment. “You wanna talk to me?” he ventures. You sit up, nodding. The movement allows the tears you’d been holding back to slip free, gliding down the apples of your cheeks.

Billy’s thumbs are against your skin in a moment, wiping them away. “Yeah?” He reciprocates your nod, more reassuring, supportive, than mocking. Billy holds out his hand for you to take. You bring it into your lap, tracing the many creases on his palm. It gives you something steady to focus on, grounds you enough that you can concentrate on getting your words out. 

“I know it’s stupid,” you mumble, voice thick with emotion. Billy flicks his fingers upward to tickle your own, and it gets your lips to tick up just that little bit. 

“It’s not stupid,” he says, tone dead serious. “What’s that shit you always tell me?” He raises his other hand, waving it around. “This is a safe space to share your feelings.” He says the words playfully, as if it might pain him, though he’s just trying to help you like you do for him. Your heart warms at the effort.

“It’s my body, Billy. I can’t just go to the beach because the beach means a swimsuit, it means people seeing me in a swimsuit, you seeing me, but I can’t wear one, and I—” You pause, drawing in a breath. Your eyes squeeze shut for just a second, another tear falling down, but you catch it before he can.

“I hate my body, okay? And I love that you want to take me with you to California, really it means so much to me, but I-I know that means tagging along with you, being out in hot weather, and I’m just going to ruin it all for you looking like this. Really you should be taking someone else. Someone who can maybe put on clothes without sobbing.”

When you finish and look up at him, Billy looks heartbroken. It immediately makes you want to take it all back. You never meant to tell him any of this. 

“You sob when you have to get dressed?” he asks, almost tentatively. The way he says it tells you he’s not picking on you, but instead trying to understand. He’s picturing it, you struggling to simply get ready for the day, and it kills him. You shouldn’t have to feel that way.

“I have before, yeah. And Billy you’re hot. I know you know that. You should be with someone who’s equally as attractive. Not someone like me.”

You hiccup and release Billy’s hand. You start playing with a string on the hem of your worn-out shorts. Billy’s thumb finds your forearm, dragging up to press against the inside of your elbow. “Baby.”

You shake your head, forcing a sad smile to form on your face. “It’s alright. I told you it was silly.”

“Are you shitting me right now?” His grip tightens ever so slightly. He’s begging for you to listen to him without ever saying so. You meet his eyes, and he’s looking at you with so much concern, so much love, that you wish you hadn’t looked at all. This isn’t silly. Not to him.

“What is it about your body that you don’t like? Can you tell me that much?” 

More understanding. More compassion. You can’t take it.

You bite the inside of your lip so hard that you draw blood. You press your tongue against the spot, hoping it will stop. You’re getting angry with yourself. For making this situation about you, for telling him about your stupid feelings, for thinking that you could ever make this work when clearly you’re not meant to even be in a relationship, especially not with him, and definitely not when you look like this–

“Stop. Take a deep breath, and talk to me.” Billy’s tone is unyielding. You’re working this out right now, and he’s made that decision for you. He knows if you don’t, you’ll just shove it right back under the rug and keep fighting this internal battle with yourself all while he’s right here.

You do as he said, and start again. 

“I don’t like my tummy, or my hips, o-or my boobs. My arms are wrong too, and I’ve got all these rolls, and nothing is shaped right. I hate everything, and I can’t even look in the mirror anymore, and I want to go on this trip with you, really I do, but all of this is overwhelming me, and I-I’m just going to ruin it for you.”

“Look at me,” Billy says. You hadn’t even noticed you’d stopped, eyes glued to your bedsheets. You start crying again, warm tears spilling over your lashes. You can’t get them to stop, can’t get your thoughts to stop. It makes you want to press your hands to your ears, like that would help, but really it’s just you. You in your own head. 

Billy takes your face in his hands. “There is nothing wrong with your body. This is just your mind fuckin’ with you. I know that every part of you is perfect, just as it is, and you don’t have to look like anyone else to be good enough.”

You shake your head and grab hold of his wrists. “See, but you can’t really say that. You don’t actually know what my body looks like because I don’t have it in me to let you see it. I know that if you did, you’d be grossed out, Billy. There’s so much fat, and pudge, and I–”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing? Because it isn’t and I don’t wanna hear you say that again, you understand?” You sniffle. He takes that as a yes. 

“Baby, I know I haven’t seen shit. But I fucking swear that I’d be a goner for it. You think I mind having a little extra to squeeze on? ‘Cause I don’t.”

You’re trying so hard to believe him, but every cell, every nerve in your body is screaming in protest. He’s lying. He’s lying, he’s lying, he’s lying. But there’s a part of your brain that knows he isn’t. That he wouldn’t dare lie to you. 

“My body is…it’s disappointing.” You sit up on your knees and wipe your nose. “Because I-I know what the world wants me to look like, and I don’t look like that.” You squeeze your eyes shut, and more tears slip out. He can’t stand to see you like this, and it’s killing him to know that this is what you’ve been dealing with for who knows how long.

“It’s not fair,” you cry. “It’s not fair because I don’t get to walk around with this amazing body, the kind of body that men clearly want, and I think now I want it too. I sit in my room at night and I think about how I’d love myself more if I had a different body.”

Now that the floodgates have opened, you can’t force them closed. 

“Because I don’t have porn star tits, Billy. They’re sad looking, and they definitely don’t look like the chick’s on your bedroom wall, or the ones in your bedside drawer. 

He lets out a scoff of a laugh. It’s not malicious, not even at all. It’s simply due to the fact that your mind, and the world around you, has led you to hating the body you were given. He laughs because he agrees with you that it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that you’re feeling like this. But he has to make sure you recognize that you can’t compare yourself to fucking models. 

“You know all of their tits are fake, right? Or strapped in somehow to get ‘em that high.”

You rub your nose, drag a hand down your throat. “Well, yeah but I’m sure there are lots of other women around here with better boobs than me. I know you like boobs, Billy. And mine are gross.”

“Yeah, that’s bullshit. They aren’t gross, and you shouldn’t talk about your girls like that.” He holds up a finger to prevent you from fussing about that comment. “I don’t care if they’re a little droopy or if they aren’t these round balloons, or if they aren’t porn star tits, or whatever it is about them you don’t like. And I know it’s only because you’ve been comparing your tits with some stranger’s, and that’s bullshit too.” You stare at Billy blankly, but he’s still not done. 

“I wouldn’t care about any of those things. Because they’re your boobies, and that makes them my favorites.”

“Please don’t say boobies, Billy.” He grins and leans in until his mouth hovers above the shell of your ear.

“And I always end up thinkin’ about you anyway.” Your face starts to burn and you fight the urge to abort right then and there. “Not even Elvira can keep me from thinking about you, baby.”

Your face is burning. “What is wrong with you?”

“Oh, there’s a lot wrong with me,” he says, rubbing his nose against yours. “But there’s not a damn thing wrong with your body, and I’m gonna be right here until you think the same.” He gives you one chaste kiss and pulls back. 

“But Billy, my ass is–”

“Amazing? I’ve seen it in those jeans you wear all the time. Shit is mind boggling, baby.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

His giggles taper out, and then he’s looking at you all gently again, like you’re the most precious thing in the entire goddamn universe. “You gotta quit comparing yourself to other people, okay? Doesn’t do you any good, and I know that. This is the only body you’re gonna get, and you deserve to love on it a little.” 

You run your hands down your face. “I just wish I believed that.”

Billy leans down and smacks a kiss to your knee. 

“Hate seein’ you like this, you know? You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. The way you’re told you should look? It’s all idealized and stereotypical bullshit, and it isn’t fair for you to look at yourself and pick every little thing apart because it doesn’t look like some chick in a porno mag or a comic book drawn by some horny, middle-aged man.” 

He’s fired up now, genuinely hurting for you, and he’s talking with his hands. That gets you every time. 

You might be snotty, your cheeks might feel tight from where the tears have dried, but seeing him be so passionate about making you feel better gets a little grin out of you. 

Billy catches it, that itty bitty quirk of your lips, and he moves in until his face is inches from yours. It’s supposed to be intimidating. 

“The fuck are you grinning about?”

Your grin turns into a full, teary smile. 

“You expecting a kiss or something?” he teases, thumb dragging over your lashes, separating them where they’d clumped together with moisture. 

“I was gonna give you one, actually.” Your eyes start to prickle again. “Because I don’t deserve you—”

Billy covers your mouth with his hand. “Listen, if there’s anyone who doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me—”

You do the same to him in an instant, only he smacks his lips against your palm, winking just for good measure. You roll your eyes.

Both of you remove your hands at the same time, and then you really do kiss him. A sweet press of your mouth that tells him…everything. 

You pull away, and he’s still looking at you like you hung the fucking stars.

“I’m sorry for keeping all of this in, Billy. It’s so suffocating sometimes, and I get so angry with myself for looking like this. I just imagine that I’d be so much happier with someone else’s body.”

“But if you had someone else’s body, you wouldn’t be you anymore. You wouldn’t be my girl.” 

You nod, trying not to let the voices win. Trying not to think about how you look in the mirror versus how you wish you looked. How if you had different features it might be better. 

“Just can’t help thinkin’ you should be with someone that looks nicer than I do.” 

“But I want you, okay? I love you exactly the way that you are.”

“Okay,” you respond, voice shaky. 

“Can I hug you?” Billy asks.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Billy pulls you into his arms, squeezing you tightly against him. He has this way of getting you out of your head, of making you feel like the two of you are all that matter.

You’ve both risen up onto your knees, the mattress dipping around you. Billy’s hands are rubbing all over your back. 

He leans his head back a little, making sure he catches your attention before he dips his chin down to gesture at where the both of your chests meet. 

“They don’t feel gross to me.”

You heave a sigh, pulling away from him completely, and trying to ignore how proud he looks of himself.

“We’re gonna keep workin’ on this, alright? I’m not letting you hate on yourself so much anymore.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Billy rolls his eyes, but you give him a hopeful, yet sad, smile, all the confirmation he’s looking for. That you’ll try. 

“So what else about the beach is it that you’re worried about? I’ll buy you a fucking umbrella, I swear. And if you go, I’ll let you drive.”

Your eyes widen, and Billy knows he’s just won you over. He knows that you have a soft spot for his car, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

————

“You aren’t upset that you’re not going?”

“No, not really. I mean, I like it there, but I’ve never had the same attachment to it as Billy has.”

Max slings another swimsuit over her arm. You decided that you really wanted to try and find one you might be comfortable in. Billy said you didn’t have to swim, even if he didn’t want you to overheat, but you’re determined to find something. And Max had happily offered to help you while Billy worked on finding you both a place to stay.

Every once in a while, Max will hold one up to you, as if contemplating the color, and then decide she wants you to try it on without asking, knowing you’ll argue with her.

“Do you miss it?” 

She shrugs her shoulders, nodding towards the dressing rooms and leading the way. She’s holding substantially more swimsuits than you are, and you know you’ll be trying on every single one.

“Sometimes? I miss my family. And I think even for Billy it’s mostly about his mom. California was the last place he was sort of…happy. But I like Hawkins, you know? And even if he likes it better now too, I’ve never been as determined to go back as he is.”

You pause outside the dressing room, clutching the slippery fabric harder than necessary. “I understand. Anything you want me to bring back for you?” 

Max opens the door for you and starts hanging up suits on the hooks provided. She grins. “I’ll never say no to a prize. Now stop stalling, and get in here.” 

You do as she says, and make her choose which one to try first, just to make it easier on yourself. 

Max closes her eyes while you change, but when she hears the shuffling stop and a sniffling replaces it, she moves her hands. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She stands up next to you.

You’re crying, but you’re trying so, so hard not to let the tears slip out. “I’m sorry,” you say, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. “I just haven’t seen my body like this in a long time, and I feel like I look so ugly.” 

She grabs your wrists and gently pulls them away from your face. 

“You don’t look ugly. You look great.” 

Max turns you so that you’re facing the mirror again. Your hands fly to your stomach, and you start to poke at it. She watches you pull at the skin of your hips, trying to see what it’d look like if there was less of it. 

“Don’t do that,” she scolds you. You let your hands fall to your sides, and she catches the stray tear before it can slide down your cheek. She’s being much too nice to you. 

“You don’t think that’s gross?” you question, criticizing your body in the mirror, comparing it to the stockpile of other bodies you’ve got in your brain. 

Max puts her hands on her hips. “No, I don’t think it’s gross. I think you look hot.”

You scoff, pulling at one of the straps. It’s a one- piece, in a color you really like, because you’re too scared to show your tummy right now. There’s a voice in the back of your head that says it looks just fine, but you ignore it. 

“You can’t really think that, Max.”

“Oh, but I can, and I do. So, you’re just gonna have to live with that. And Billy told me about your problems with your body—he’s got a big mouth, you know that? But I wanted to tell you that my hips look like that too. It’s normal.” 

She’s standing like Steve, determined to have you believe her. Determined to be there for you. 

“I think you should get this one,” she continues. “I know you like it.”

“I don’t know, Max.”

“Then try on a few more, okay? Don’t let your thoughts stop you from picking out something you like. As long as it’s comfortable, that’s all that matters. You have a great body, and you deserve to go to the beach with your boyfriend and wear a swimsuit.”

She flops down on the bench, an encouraging smile gracing her face when she reaches up and shoves another bathing suit into your hands. 

Max Mayfield is very convincing when she wants to be. Not only do you keep the tears at bay for the rest of the trip, you also end up getting the first one, as well as one she slipped in your basket at the last second because it “Looked too kickass not to buy.”

————

“You make a very pretty passenger princess, you know.”

Billy rolls his eyes, and even if you can’t exactly see the gesture with your own glued to the road, you feel the disturbance. He smacks his hand against your bare thigh and leaves it there, even if it is too hot for skin-to-skin contact. You know if it weren’t for the air conditioning blasting your face, you might’ve shoved him out of the car. 

“Turn up here, you little shit.”

You’ve made it off of all the main roads, now driving through beach town after beach town. Billy can’t even complain about your driving because well…you’re a good driver. He watches you eye the swankier resorts, the ones with pools and valet parking. He hopes you’ll be happy with the little house he found. It’s not too far from where he grew up, and he’d been pleased about being somewhat familiar with the area. 

The sound of gravel under the tires makes you feel safe. Billy directs you towards your destination, and when you park the car, you feel like you might cry. 

The house is small, sure, but it’s welcoming. The neighborhood isn’t suffocatingly full, either. Sure, there are other homes, some larger than others with their big balconies and wrap-around porches, but it feels…nice. 

You turn off the engine and get out. Billy walks around the other side of the car and wraps his arms around your waist. “You wanna go look around? I’ll come back and get our shit in a minute.”

You spin around and smack a kiss to his forehead. If his cheeks weren’t already red from the heat, he knows they would be simply from your affection. You nod, and Billy takes your hand, leading up the little set of stairs to the door. 

He bends over. “The lady on the phone said the key was under the mat.” He comes back up with the metal in hand. 

“The lady on the phone?” you wonder. 

Billy pushes the door open. “Yeah, it’s like an old ass couple renting this place out. She practically told me her whole life story the other day.” You grin and hook your fingers in his belt loops, letting him pull you around inside the house. 

It really is cozy. One bedroom, two and a half bathrooms. Comfy little barstools and a sweet couch. The part you’re really excited about is the porch. Excited enough that you separate from Billy and pull the sliding glass doors open to step outside. 

You can see the beach. It might take a little bit to walk down there, but you can see it. Which means you can watch the sunset. 

“You like it?” Billy leans against the doorframe behind you. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I really do.”

He pulls you in for a kiss then, lips warm and a little chapped against yours. 

“So, I have this plan.” You raise an eyebrow, clearly a little frightened by that idea. He grins, and kisses you again, trying to shut you up, you know. “There’s a board shop not far from here that closes in…” He pauses, looking at his watch. “An hour and a half. I was gonna rent one so that I can surf tomorrow. Do you wanna go with me or stay here?”

You look over at the bench tucked into the corner of the porch. The cushion looks very comfortable, and you did bring a book. He knows what you’re doing to say before you even say it. 

“I think I’ll stay here.”

“That’s cool, baby. I can pick up dinner?” He squeezes at your hips. 

“That would be nice.”

You reach around and slip your hands into his back pockets. He won’t say it, but you seem a little lighter now that you’re here. Like you aren’t so panicked about the prospect of vacation, but rather content to be there with him. It’s as if you know he’s going to take real good care of you–which he is. 

“That way you can explore, right?” he teases. You’re like a cat that way. You have to check everything out first before you really settle down. 

“Right.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, and he pats around on your ass, looking for his keys. When he secures them, he gives it a firm smack, just while he can get away with it, and then he’s moving away from you. 

But he’s right. You do feel a little more content. Maybe even comfortable.

————

“Be fucking still, William.”

“It’s cold,” he bites back. 

You’re rubbing sunscreen all over his back, and even if you’ve already covered the rest of him in it, and helped him tie his hair up into a sweet little bun, he’s destined to be the whiniest man in all of existence. You know for a fact that it isn’t that cold, considering he’d put it on you minutes before. 

“There.” You push your hand into the skin of his neck, making sure you’ve got every spot. You refuse to listen to him fuss about a sunburn. “I’m all done.”

 Billy turns around to face you, placing his sunglasses up on the top of his head. “Ready to get going then?”

“If by ready to watch you eat shit, then yes.”

Billy aligns his face with yours, locking eyes and everything. “I’m not gonna eat shit.”

“Eh,” you shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I bet you will.”

He kisses your shoulder over the t-shirt you’re wearing. He still hasn’t seen the swimsuit you’ve put on, and you’re trying to postpone it for as long as possible. It’s a miracle you didn’t cry getting it on, but you tried to remember what Max had said, how sweet Billy had been when you’d come clean about your insecurities. It is comfortable, at least. You just feel all sorts of wrong wearing it. But you can’t let that ruin this whole trip. It’s not worth it. 

“Come on, grumpy pants. Get a move on.”

When you finally make it to the beach, you’re so hot and sticky you could beat the shit out of him right then and there. There’s no way this is actually enjoyable for people. Definitely not in this heat. 

Billy has left to retrieve an umbrella and a chair for you, insisting he can just sit on a towel. By the time he gets back, you’re full on pouting. It makes him laugh. You cross your arms and watch him work the umbrella into the sand. 

He finishes and reaches a hand out to pull you up from where you’d plopped on top of the towel bag. “It’s so hot,” you whine, faking tears. 

He just keeps laughing. “I know. That’s why you’re gonna come in the water with me, and then you’ll cool off and you can come sit here and watch me eat shit.”

He pulls his shirt off over his head. Your eyes wander all over his torso, soaking in every inch of skin, every freckle and scar. “I thought you weren’t gonna eat shit,” you argue, leaning in to kiss the raised patch on his chest. 

You wish you could be as confident about your body as he is sometimes. Things got really hard for Billy after Starcourt, but at some point something just snapped, and he decided he should show off the messy scars. He takes care of them as best as he can, much better care than he ever thought he would, and they are looking better.

You even wish that you could love on your own the way you do his. But that’s just not the case. 

“Yeah, well I probably will eat shit, so.” He gestures towards your shirt. “You gonna swim in that?” His eyes drop to your bare thighs. No one should be allowed to look that sweet.

“Um…no.” You tentatively grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off quickly, trying to rip off the bandaid. When you’re done, Billy has to remember to keep his mouth closed, his jaw having legitimately dropped. 

“Holy shit. This is the body you’ve been so mean to?”

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna put the shirt back on.” 

He steps closer to you. He’s gawking. “No! Please don’t. You look hot, baby.”

You’re not sure anyone has ever called you hot before. Certainly not whilst in an item of clothing that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, even if you are pretty damn covered. It’s a little bit higher cut on the sides than you’re used to, but it holds everything in well. You feel exposed. If you think about it for too long you’ll probably just throw up. 

You put your hands over your belly and tilt your head, smushing your cheek into your shoulder. “Billy,” you fuss. 

He removes your hands and instead takes them in him, pulling you down the beach with him. When you get to the water, Billy watches you wade out until it’s knee deep, trying to keep his eyes away from your ass. 

He thinks you look fucking radiant like this. And he’s never actually even said that word. You’re looking down, probably for sand dollars or little fish. Billy takes this opportunity to look at your body. Not in a judgemental way by any means, but simply because he’s never gotten to see it like this. You’re being vulnerable with him, and that means more than anything else could. 

Billy wades out a little further than you and disappears beneath the waves for just a moment. When he emerges you think this is what people must have thought about Achilles. He is breathtakingly gorgeous, and it simply isn’t fair. You can’t believe that you have him. 

Billy walks you back to your umbrella and gets you nice and shielded from the sun before he heads back out to attempt surfing. He might’ve been messing with you, but it has been a few years, and he really might get his ass handed to him by the ocean. 

You’re eating a popsicle when he finally catches a wave, after having tried and failed for a little while. It’s impressive to see him up there like that, especially when you can’t even comprehend how he does it. 

You might hate the heat, and you might hate the fact that there’s sand up your ass, but you think you could sit here and watch Billy surf for hours with no complaint. It’s like he’s in his element, way more than when he played basketball. You can tell that he knows what he’s doing, that he sort of listens to the water and obeys. 

You allow yourself to imagine a future like this. One where maybe you can come back during the summers, just the two of you or maybe with Max and a friend of hers. You could never give up snow, so it couldn’t be permanent, but you could do it for Billy.

You could do anything if it meant getting to see him so happy. If it meant getting to feel so loved and so safe. It is your greatest honor to be loved by Billy Hargrove, a boy that everyone thought was incapable of loving. 

————

“Motherfucker.”

Billy’s voice echoes in the bathroom, reaching you where you lay in the bed. You can’t see him from where you are. 

It’s been a few days, and it’s gotten easier to put on that swimsuit. To look at yourself in the mirror. You’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of listening. You might even say you’ve learned from Billy during this trip. Not that you’d boost his ego by telling him so.  

He rushes out of the bathroom and flops down in front of you, holding his hand aloft.  “Baby, I need help. I got a splinter from your goddamn umbrella. I can’t get it out.”

“What do you say, Hargrove?” You sit up, taking the tweezers from him with an evil grin on your face. 

“Pretty please?”

“That’s it.”

The second you get your eyes on the splinter, you know he just wanted attention from you. It’s big, and he could’ve just pulled it out with his fingernails. But you’re touched he wanted your help. That says a lot more than he probably realizes. 

You grip the edge of the teeny wood piece and gently pull it out from under his skin. You place it in the palm of his hand. “Ta-da.”

He snorts, and you kiss the tip of his finger. “All better now?”

“Yep.”

He slips into bed with you soon after, and you can’t help but sit up on your knees, just so you can get a good look at him. 

The freckles under his eyes have become loads more prominent, and they spread over his shoulders and collarbones like someone’s dumped glitter all over him. 

He lets you look at him, too, just admiring you in the moment. You look sleepy, beat from being out all day, from driving around to see where Billy grew up, but he thinks you’ve never looked prettier. He tells you so and you use his hand to shield your face. 

It makes Billy laugh, and he pushes your head gently, knowing you’ll go all dramatic and fall back, and when you do you end up in his lap. 

You curl up like a cat, wrapping your arms around him so you can rest your head on his tummy and splay your fingers out over his warm back. You change positions quickly though, propping your chin up with your hands. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Billy says, swiping a thumb over the apple of your cheek. It’s a light enough touch that it tickles.

“Don’t have to thank me. I wanted to.”

He exhales. “I know, but I also know it’s been hard for you, being in your head all the time.”

“It’s okay. You’re helping.”

He smirks. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” You scoot up and tuck yourself into his side. You might not even need a blanket with all the heat he radiates. “Much too good to me,” you mutter, kissing his chest. 

“You deserve it.”

He feels you grin against his skin, bashful as ever no matter how long you’ve known each other. 

Billy moves onto his side and entangles himself with you, holding you tight to his chest. 

You reciprocate the hold, squeezing a little to tell him you love him. “Thank you for bringing me home. I can see how happy you are here.”

“I’d be happy anywhere as long as you were there too.”

You snort. “That’s so cheesy.”

“It’s true, though.” 

“I know it is.” You’re silent for a minute before you remember. “We gotta get Max a prize before we leave.”

“Oh yeah, bring the little shit a gift.”

“She deserves a prize for having helped me pick out a bathing suit.”

Billy contemplates your statement. “Hm. Yeah, that works. So what do I get then, huh?”

“My eternal love.”

“Oh. I was hoping you’d like, take me to dinner or something.”

“Talk about being a little shit,” you mumble, sleep taking over. For the first time, you aren’t worried about going to the beach tomorrow. You aren’t worried about what squish Billy might be able to feel, holding you like this. You feel comfortable. Maybe you’re not completely in love with yourself, but with Billy around, you might get there one day. For now, that’s enough. It’s more than enough. 

“Eternal love it is then.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[fallinnflower]

01:01

mingyu x reader (fluff, hurt/comfort?, non-idol!au)

wc: 1.3k

a writing exercise i did with a friend using this prompt list and the prompts "when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say i was too sweet for my own good. maybe he was right." and "i'm the one you've been looking for."

a/n: thanks everyone for being patient with me, i'm still working on some big projects (vampire!DPR Ian and also vampire!BamBam [same universe], vampire!Jun, part 2 of river god!Wonpil, a Wonwoo fic based loosely on Kiki's Delivery Service... send help) in the works but wanted to post a little something <3

As soon as you get into your apartment's living room, you flop onto the couch on your stomach, paying no mind to the makeup you're probably smudging onto the throw pillow. Now just isn't the time. Future you can worry about cleaning it. 

Familiar footsteps follow you into the living room and a knee gently nudges the side of your stomach; you roll so your back is pressed against the back of the couch and Mingyu can lie down in the remaining space. He settles on his side, facing you with his hand propping up his head. His eyes glimmer slightly, and he gives you a wry smile,

"Well, happy anniversary," he says. You groan and look away from him, pressing your face into the couch cushions. He chuckles at your exaggerated reaction and gently reaches over to start undoing the elaborate updo you'd pinned your hair into. 

"What a night," he continues, pulling the bobby pins out one by one. You still refuse to look up, embarrassed and frustrated. 

It wasn't like it was anyone's fault, really, that all your evening plans had gone to total shit. First was the unexpected downpour that ruined your plans of a nice walk before dinner forcing you to frantically hail a cab while huddled under his expensive suit jacket. You'd already felt apologetic over that, and then your distracted cab driver missed a turn, which you thought was bad enough because you would be late for the reservation at this rate. 

But then it had to get worse (because of course it had to get worse) when the cabbie rear-ended another car because they were too busy yelling at someone on the phone. The two of you had to spend another two hours huddled under a shop awning, answering questions for the police officers that came to assess the scene. Thankfully, nobody was seriously hurt, but you still cried so much that everyone kept asking if you needed them to call paramedics. 

That was part of why you didn't want to look at Mingyu. No doubt your face was a mess, not to mention your hair, which he was now methodically freeing from the style you had spent so long on. 

You'd just wanted it to be perfect. You only have one first wedding anniversary, after all. To avoid crying more, you keep your face pressed into the cushions, not responding to your husband. More gently, then, he asks,

"Hey, you're sure you're okay, right?" You sniffle. Goddamnit. 

"Yeah," you croak. "I just… feel bad." Mingyu chuckles. 

"I know, but it isn't your fault," he reassures you. It should make you feel better, but it doesn't. You know Mingyu isn't bothered — this sort of thing doesn't faze him quite like it does you — but you still feel anxious and upset. Is this some kind of warning of impending doom in your relationship? Just the thought makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

You finally turn your face again so you can breathe more easily and find Mingyu smiling at you, concern still clear in his eyes. The couch cushion feels rough against your cheek, still a bit sensitive from all the crying and being out in the cold. 

"I think we have ramen," Mingyu says. "Should I make some? Are you hungry?" Your lower lip trembles as tears start welling up again, and this time you press your forehead into Mingyu's shoulder to hide your face. 

"How are you so calm?" you sputter. "How are you not— not upset?" 

"What, upset at you? You didn't do anything. And the driver didn't get away with being reckless, so I don't need to worry about that, either," he says calmly. When you only continue to sniffle pathetically, he changes his approach a bit,

"Or maybe I'm just too nice. I still remember when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say I was too sweet for my own good. Maybe he was right."

You let out an extremely undignified snort and lift your head to look at him. 

"As if. My dad never said anything like that," you tease. "Plus, 'all those years ago?' It's not like we met as kids or something. We met in college." Mingyu pouts at you, but his eyes glimmer playfully. 

"It sounds so much less romantic when you say that," he whines. 

"Well, you've always been the romantic one," you retort, but Mingyu is quick to counter you,

"No, no— I still remember that letter you wrote me when the semester was ending, when you said I was the one you'd been looking for—"

"Shut up!" you cry, placing your hands over his mouth. On top of everything else tonight, you don't want to be reminded of your embarrassing confession via love letter from years ago. You'd been a lovestruck student afraid you would lose your chance forever when you wrote that letter, and certainly hadn't expected that Mingyu had also been harboring a secret crush on you that would lead to marriage. It had been corny and sappy all because you thought you wouldn't see him again! Oh, how your actions had come back to haunt you. 

You can feel Mingyu smiling under your palms, and it only makes your face get hotter. Eventually, you remove your hands from his face and snuggle up closer to his chest, pressing your forehead into his shoulder again. 

"You're so annoying," you murmur, and you can feel the laughter reverberate through Mingyu's chest as he winds an arm around you. 

"But you still married me," he says. You smile. It still gives you butterflies, thinking of Mingyu as your husband, still so fresh a sensation. It's only been a year, after all. 

"Yeah," you reply. "I did."

Mingyu holds you for a few minutes, gently combing his fingers through your hair as you calm down. Eventually, he broaches the subject of dinner again, now that it's been hours since you were supposed to have eaten. 

"Do you want to shower while I make the ramen?" he asks, and you nod. Mingyu gets up off the couch as you sit up and stretch, noticing the lingering dampness in your hair and dress. A shower definitely sounds nice. You start making your way down the hallway, then turn back to face the living room. 

You watch as Mingyu attempts to straighten out his crumpled, damp button-down shirt, and smile to yourself. 

"Actually," you start, causing Mingyu to stop what he was doing and look up at you out of curiosity. "Do you… wanna join me? It's our anniversary, after all." You can feel your face warming up, but it's worth the slight embarrassment just to see the surprise on your husband's face. Sometimes he can seem so innocent. 

It only takes him a moment to snap out of it though, and cross the living room to meet you in the hallway with a broad grin. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you without hesitation.

"That sounds perfect," he says, practically purring, and you let out a surprised yelp when he suddenly scoops you up bridal style. You throw your arms around his neck and lean against him, giggling. As you look up into his face, all your irritation and upset from earlier melts away. Why should it matter if you went to a fancy restaurant or just ate ramen at home? All you want is to be together — that's why you got married. 

As Mingyu sets you down in the bathroom, you keep your arms looped around his neck and give him a kiss of your own. 

"Happy first anniversary, Gyu." He smiles that big, toothy grin you love so much, the one that makes him look like a happy puppy. 

"Happy anniversary, Y/N. The first of many."

It turns out to be a pretty good night, after all.

[sacharinee]

hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this 

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues. 

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,” 

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.” 

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,” 

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands. 

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame. 

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion. 

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.” 

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment. 

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.” 

“you and me both,” strange clips. 

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.” 

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing black socks with white shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.” 

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’” 

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

[coloursflyaway]

Hello! Your DBD fics are always a delight so i am here to propose: Edwin being in crisis about Charles (as per usual really) and bonding with Crystal when she helps him through it (in whatever way seems fitting to you)

I just know they could be such cool friends if Edwin got over himself

Thank you so much ♥♥♥ I really enjoyed writing this so much, and it was such a good excuse to get into Crystal's head for a little while!

Read on AO3

Edwin phases through the wall right next to Crystal’s TV and it is a wonder and a testament to her mental fortitude that she doesn’t throw her bowl of ice cream right through his head. And he’d deserve that, too, not just because barging into other people’s apartments without knocking is rude, but because Crystal had made it very clear that she needed an evening to herself, with absolutely no dead boys around, just her, too many snacks and the mental equivalent of fast food that is Love Island.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”, she half-yells instead of throwing anything, which would make Charles laugh, but Edwin is just standing there, clasping his hands behind his back, and Crystal has the distinct impression that this will be A Long One.

Goddamnit.

“It appears that I require your assistance”, Edwin tells her, trying to sound unfazed and failing, which means this will be A Very Long One. Which sucks, because she’s had a couple of those with Charles lately, and absolutely no interest in letting more ghostly love misunderstandings take up her time, when she could spend that time with mortal love misunderstandings instead, which happen to be clad in very little clothes.

“What with?”, she starts, but honestly, why waste time with that, if she knows the answer already? “Is this about Charles? What’s he done?”

“How did you know?”, Edwin tries, but Crystal just gives him a look and he deflates immediately, even as he sits down next to her on the sofa. It’s not like you’d need to be a psychic to know this; it’s always about Charles. Or Edwin, if the boy next to her is a different one.

“So, what’s he done?”, she asks, and turns down the volume of the TV, even if she positions her body so that she’ll still be able to sneak the occasional glance at the screen. It’s not like anyone on that show ever says something profound and interesting anyway.

It’s a strange spectacle: Edwin is too prim and proper to be here, in the neon glow of the TV; he’s too smitten and devoted and another dozen word Crystal doesn’t want to think about to inhabit the same space as Love Island.

“Nothing”, Edwin says, and he sounds smaller than he is somehow, a little bit lost. There was a time when Crystal would have enjoyed that, but that has long since passed. “Well, I guess he has done something, but nothing bad. Or even worrying. It’s more...perplexing, really. I didn’t know who else to ask about it.”

Because Charles would have been the one he would have usually gone to about this, only that this time, that’s not really an option, which is usually why Charles ends up at her flat too once or twice a week, looking surprisingly similar to Edwin right now.

On screen, the guys are participating in some kind of flexing contest, and Crystal is such a good friend for mainly keeping her focus on Edwin.

“How come it’s perplexing? I thought you guys knew each other inside and out?”, she asks, and Edwin just shrugs; he truly must be at the end of his wits for something like this not to spark a tirade about just how much they know and care for each other. As if anyone with functioning senses could ever doubt that. “Okay, different question: what is he doing that is so strange?”

Edwin seems to flounder for a moment; Crystal takes the chance to look at the screen, where someone is rubbing ice cubes across their abs. Nice.

“He’s… attentive”, Edwin tries, thick eyebrows furrowing. “Last night he brought home a very interesting specimen of Entodon seductrix, and he said he had found it on a market, only that I don’t know what market this could be, because as far as I know, Charles isn’t exactly prone to visit to establishments that offer a wide selection of North American mosses. Or last week, when he gave me a piece of rose quartz that was engraved with a spell of some kind. I have not yet sat down to figure out the kind, but it looks quite ancient. Like it must have been difficult to come by.”

“So… he’s giving you stuff that you like?”, Crystal asks, just to clarify, and maybe this won’t take too long after all, because this and the Very Long Talk she had with Charles just two weeks ago seem to correspond quite well. “What else?”

“He’s been asking for us not to mirror hop quite frequently. Says that he wants to walk and that he “enjoys the city on a nice evening like this”. He’s never done anything like that before. At first, I thought it was for your sake, but it usually happens when you are not even around.” Edwin stops for a second, then adds, “Two nights ago, he asked me to go to a concert with him. Crystal! A concert! He knows I do not like the flashy lights and the crowds in these establishments… I still went with him, of course.”

Somehow, and Crystal truly isn’t sure how, because Edwin is clever, brilliant even, yet this development truly seems to baffle him. The man who looks at Charles like he has hung the stars and the moon and everything in between, and who, coincidentally, also watches Charles look at him with just the same expression.

Crystal makes a mental note that if Charles and she hatch another plan – and good God, hopefully they won’t have to – she’ll put tell Edwin about it in detail on the top of the list of action items before starting it.

“So, Charles is trying to spend more time with you?”, she asks as gently as possible, which unfortunately, isn’t very gentle at all. “Is that it?”

“We spend all of our time together, that would hardly warrant a change in behaviour.”

He kind of has a point there, even Crystal has to admit that.

“And… he’s been leaving the house more often”, Edwin says, and now he sounds sad, almost a little dejected, and it takes all the strength of her ancestors for Crystal not to sigh. Thirty years, and they are all the other ever talks about, are basically married in every sense of the word but the kissing one, and yet it seems like her boys need all the help in the world to figure things out. “To think, that’s what he says. Why can’t he think when I’m there, too?”

There is a slump in his shoulders that Crystal has never seen before; he’s looking at his hands, most likely considering that they should be holding Charles’ instead of nothing at all, and it hurts a little to see Edwin like that. Like he is afraid he might lose Charles when, in reality, what is happening is the opposite.

“Edwin”, she starts, because she cannot take much more of this, and this time, it comes out more gentle, because even if these two are driving her up the wall sometimes, she loves them dearly. “Have you ever considered that it might be because he’s thinking about you?”

A pause, a very long one, but this time, Crystal doesn’t look at the TV screen, because she can see Edwin’s mind working in real time, and this is important, not just to him, not just to Charles, to all of them.

This, and she won’t ever admit that, is the kind of love she won’t ever see on Love Island, because it is real and true and deep and so beautiful that sometimes, when she watches the two of them together, she has to repress the urge to look away. Because every look they share seems to hold so much meaning, every gesture is made of fondness and devotion, because it makes her ache for it, for them, for all the world.

And then Edwin looks up, green eyes wide and bright and in the best kind of turmoil, and Crystal has to keep herself from pumping her fist so she won’t shatter the moment.

“…oh”, he says, and there is so much hope in his voice that it almost breaks Crystal’s heart. “I’m sorry, Crystal, I have to go.”

“Go get him, lover boy”, she calls after him, as Edwin all but races through her bathroom mirror.

(The next time, she sees her boys, they are curled up on the sofa, bodies so close you couldn’t fit a sheet of paper between them, lips locked in a kiss that seems like it is meant to blur the edges of where one of them ends and the other begins. Charles’ hand is in Edwin’s hair, mussing it up in a way that usually would infuriating Edwin; now, he just seems to press closer still, whispering something against Charles’ lips that Crystal cannot hear.

She doesn’t want to, either. It’s their secret to share, their love, their personal slice of Heaven.

They don’t notice her coming in, and that’s just the way it should be, she thinks as she pulls the door closed again. Their cases can wait another day or two, and they deserve the time to feel loved and make the other feel loved in return.

wanna watch love island at my place tonite??, she texts into the group she has with Niko and Jenny, mentally already writing a shopping list. They’ll need wine, lots of it. we have something to celebrate.)