#mention of fat phobia

[vmures]

Not so Brief thoughts on insult reclamation and identity

Bullying and "othering" (treating someone as if they are so different from oneself that they are alien or monsterous) are sadly very common responses to encountering people who are perceived as different. Often that bullying will even rise to systemic abuse of entire groups of people. But it can also be very horrific abuse on a smaller scale. Taunting, verbal abuse, physical attacks, death threats, attempted (and sadly sometimes accomplished) murder. I've seen people respond to bullying in a lot of ways and have experienced some of these responses myself. One method is to shun the words they throw at you while trying to show that you aren't like that and therefore shouldn't be targeted. Another is to reclaim slurs and work on healing from the trauma of bullying and becoming comfortable in your own skin. And there is a whole lot of mix and match and reactions in between these two responses.

I think most, if not all, of us who have been bullied have used the first tactic at times, especially the trying to make ourselves less of a target--masking neurodivergence, being careful about how we present ourselves in certain social settings, etc.

But some take this technique even farther. They decide that they must be a good example of whatever different subgroup they are in and that the bullies should really target those other people who are not good. This frequently involves internalized bigotry.

For example, there was a point where I had internalized fatphobia so much that I was determined to try to be a "good" fat person, trying to eat the right food and exercise to show that I was trying to not be fat. This led to an endless spiral of shame, confusion, and guilt because no matter what I did I didn't lose weight the way the personal trainers and nutritionists thought I would. Then I got really sick and dropped a lot of weight and was absolutely unhealthy during that time. I was miserable and in pain, but people sure did seem to like me more, which was super annoying.

Eventually, I got better and as I got better I gained weight back. I was still eating healthy foods and watching my sugar then, but the weight returned anyway. So I eventually embraced the fact that my body seems to be comfortable at a size 18 (US size, and the size I've been most of my later teen and adult years. Nowadays, I focus on trying to feel less pain and being able to move better and not worry so much about the number on the scale. And truth be told I'm a lot happier and healthier both physically and mentally after shifting the way I looked at myself and my weight.

One of the things that I eventually realized is that for all that fat was (and is) used as a slur and a weapon, it's really just a descriptor of body type. I am fat. That is not a bad thing. It doesn't make me monstrous or ugly. And these days if someone calls me fat, I look at them and say "yeah, and?!" Reclaiming that particular insult did wonders for me. And you know what, so did reclaiming "freak" (a very common insult thrown at neurodivergent folks and anyone different), "geek," "nerd," "dyke," "fag" (some confused Louisiana middle-schoolers didn't realize it was usually used for gay men), "gay," "homo," and "queer." All of these were slurs thrown at me alongside physical violence and threats. There was a time I tried very hard to pass as cis and straight, but I was fucking miserable. All of the things that made up who I was were fucking slurs used to hurt me. Eventually, I hit the fuck you point of my life and reclaimed every last one of those terms. I'm currently working on reclaiming lazy. Because rest is required for a healthy life, and US culture's focus on always being productive is beyond unhealthy.

Because yes, words can fucking hurt and scar you worse than some physical violence does. They haunt you and pick at you for years after you first hear them. But part of that has to do with how much power you give those words yourself. Because far too often the one trying to weaponize the word has broadened the actual definition.

So yeah, I'm a freak, a queer, a dyke, and fat. So what? None of those things are inherently bad and those who say they are are lying to you because they do not want to see you and would rather you did not exist. So they other you and try to make you ashamed to exist. Fuck them. You get to keep on existing anyway. And isn't that the best revenge? Living your life and finding happiness where you can? And yes, it is dangerous to live as your authentic self. But that's why solidarity is so important. There is safety in numbers. Build communities with your fellow freaks, queers, fat folks, etc. See and be seen. Let people know that you are here and you are not going anywhere. Stand together and stand strong.

[housecow]

seeing you outright mention you have death feedism tendencies is like a shotgun to the chest (positive)

i have a medical phobia that’s somehow twisted itself into death feedism ngl. also, evil feeders. 😳

someone hellbent on keeping me as fat as possible for as long as they can—knowing what cocktail of drugs keeps my heart pumping, dumbing me down and keeping me pliant with edibles hidden in my food, waking me up every few hours for feedings and funnel sessions instead of letting me sleep so the weight piles on faster than it should..

somewhere deep down i know it’s not good for me. maybe my feeder tells me about all the health problems i have while the feeding tube is in my mouth and i can barely think, but i can’t focus on what they’re saying without getting overwhelmed. if i don’t remember later, it doesn’t really matter, right?

maybe occasionally i’d “come to my senses,” during a lull in the feedings. when my feeder is busy and away for a while, after i’ve made my way through a small mountain of snacks and the mini fridge (full of shakes laced with THC to keep me docile) is just out of reach. maybe i’d try to get up, only to collapse back down because my knee problems finally caught up to me and fuck, it hurts to even try to walk. maybe then i’d finally take a look at where i am, how i’ve given up my life for someone’s (and my own, let’s be real) sick pleasure.

i’d have to deal with that realization for a while. maybe i’d start to cry, unable to handle the reality. eventually, though, my feeder would come back. they’d find me in this state and console me, getting the funnel ready because they can hear my stomach rumbling and it’s been too long since i’ve eaten. they’ll coo into my ear about how it’s all okay, how i asked for this and it’s what we both want.

they’d give my belly a shake, grasping the lowest roll in their hands and enjoying the way it makes my entire body wobble. they’d press a kiss onto the vast expanse of fat above my belly button, an area they were so excited to see expand under their care. they’d struggle a bit to lift one of my tits, eager to see how my breath hitches at the thought of their mouth on me. these are all distractions. they’ve mastered this game of manipulation and there’s no way i’d be able to find my way out of their control. their touch, the food they offer me, even those moments when i’m not high or in a haze of fullness and pleasure, were meant to further ensnare me and ensure i’m theirs for as long as i live.

my health, my life, is in my feeder’s hands. they know what’s best. as long as i keep eating, keep taking the pills they hand me, keep ignoring how hard it is to move and breathe, it will all be fine. or, that’s what i’d tell myself.

[absurdthirst]

The Woman He Needs {Dave York x Plus Sized!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.7k

Warnings: Infidelity, dom/sub dynamic, unbalanced power dynamic, sugar baby/daddy-ish arrangement, body image issues, fat phobia, oral sex (male receiving), teasing, edging, rough sex, choking, cum play, mentions of a breeding kind, asphyxiation/ breath play, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, hints of violence, threats, demands to continue a pregnancy, confessions, Carol finds out, attack on a pregnant woman, divorce, happy endings

Comments: Dave York's assistant and very own personal sex toy, you are completely dedicated to giving him whatever he wants. Even knowing that he is married. Making it even more complicated when the situation changes.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York 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.

“Mr. York.” You knock on the door and open it less than an inch to see if your boss is busy. The file in your hand is one that he had requested, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not already on a conference call or something. He’s still wearing his suit jacket, not taken off yet but his tie is already pulled loose, a look that you love on the handsome DIA agent. He waves you in and you push the door open wider, knowing that you couldn’t fit through some small crack, you are too plump for that. “I have that file you wanted.” Dave York was a meticulous agent and often demanded information quickly. 

Dave looks up at you, a smirk on his face as he watches you set the file down on his desk. “Thank you.” He says, his eyes dragging down your figure. You’re wearing that dress he loves and you look fucking fantastic. “Shut the door.” He orders, setting his pen down and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it. “Come here.” He orders, pointing at the space in front of him beside his desk. You slowly walk over to him and stand before him as he turns his chair to face you. “Take them off.” He orders and your eyes widen, “take what off?” You ask, innocent eyes staring at him and he chuckles. “Those panties I bought you. Take. Them. Off.” He orders, “now.”

You bite your lip, cunt clenching at the authority in his tone. You know that he would strip them off of you if you refused, probably ripping them in the process and they are nice panties. It should be weird that your boss buys your underwear, but he fucks you enough that its almost his job to provide panties with as many as he ruins. “Yes sir.” You demure, bending down slightly as you reach under your dress to slide your panties down your thighs. 

Dave holds his hand out and you place the lace in his palm. “Good girl. Now, I want you to get under my desk and take my cock out. I have a call to make and it’s going to be boring. I don’t like being bored. I want you to entertain me.” He says, shoving the underwear in his desk drawer. “Are you going to keep me waiting?” He asks, eyebrows raised as you look at him a moment too long.

Your mouth waters, knowing exactly what he wants. The space under his desk will fit you, it’s been something that you’ve checked before. Dave wants you to suck his cock while he’s on the phone and you glance back at the door. It’s a good thing you had set the phone system to go to messages, knowing that he could have you under his desk for hours. Moving over to the desk, you kneel down to crawl underneath. 

Dave is already half hard for you. Your perfume he bought you wafting into his office from your desk right outside coupled with your sweet voice over the phone has him ready for you. You fumble slightly as you work his pants open and you pull his half hard cock out. “Shit.” Dave grunts when you wrap your fingers around his length. He scans his email, looking for the number he needs to call while he hardens in your grip.

You love when he is filthy. Picking up his desk phone and starting to punch in numbers while you stroke his cock until he’s fully hard. “Don’t fucking play around.” He growls, making you smirk slightly under his desk and take your hand away to spit in it, wrapping around his cock again and slicking him up. He grunts at the wetness and you lean forward to press your tongue to the slit. Wondering if he had fucked Carol last night, it was Thursday and she always wanted sex after watching Grey’s Anatomy.

“Hey, Davis. Just wanted to follow up with the reports from the latest mission. Yeah, I got my secretary to type it - shit - sorry. Yeah, she’s a good girl.” Dave groans slightly on the last part, your mouth engulfing his cock and he makes a fist as he grips the phone. Your mouth is so fucking hot and wet around his cock. Carol didn’t jump him last night and he was grateful but he’s pent up and ready to cum.

You preen quietly around his cock, knowing that praise was meant for you. Taking him deeper into your mouth and down your throat before you swallow around his length. Loving the way he twitches on your tongue. You’re going to drip onto the carpet under his desk, sucking his cock always making you wet. It’s why he took your panties, he loves seeing how wet you get from pleasuring him. Calling you his filthy, cock hungry whore. You love it. Your body isn’t slim and perfect, you’re plus sized but Dave loves fucking you for some reason.

Dave exhales deeply through his nose, listening to Davis ramble on about the logistics of the mission and the financials but Dave doesn’t give a fuck. He just needs to get this call out of the way. He reaches down to caress your cheek, loving the way he can feel the bulge of his cock against your skin. “Yeah. I think that’s a good move.” He tells Davis and he tells you as you hollow your cheeks around him.

He’s already starting to throb on your tongue, the taste of his pre-cum smearing around your mouth. He must be pent up. Him and Carol obviously didn’t have sex yesterday and so you want to make this good for him. You know you don’t have Dave, he’s married, he has a family. But he wants you for now, so you try to give him everything he wants from you sexually.

“Just like that.” He tells Davis and you. Davis is reciting the wording on the report and you are blowing him with an expertise that Dave taught you from that first time. You moan around his cock and he twitches in your mouth. He’s so close. His hand slides lower to your throat, gripping it slightly and his grip on the phone tightens.

It’s his signal that he’s about to cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing as you try to open your throat as much as possible. If Dave is already about to cum, he’s either pent up from stress or he didn’t fuck Carol last night. Either way, you are about to get a thick load of cum spurting down your throat and he would be mad if you let one drop get on his pants or your dress. You reach up and squeeze his thigh, already starting to swallow around him as you bob on his cock. 

Dave grunts while Davis rambles down the line about the report but Dave's cock twitches as he starts to cum down your throat. You swallow around him, making him close his eyes as he grips the phone and his grip on your neck tightens as he feels you swallowing every damn drop. "Fuck, that's good." He grunts and Davis says down the line, "thanks, boss."

His salty seed slides down your throat and you moan quietly around his length. Careful not to be too loud so Davis wouldn’t hear. Gasping when he finally quits cumming and you pull off his cock. Holding him gently and pulling out a handkerchief to dry him off so you can tuck him back into his pants and wipe your mouth. 

Dave inhales deeply, “I gotta go Davis. Sounds like you got it handled.” Dave slams the phone down and pulls back from his desk, looking down at you as you lick your lips. “Sit on my desk and spread your legs, sweetheart.” He orders, “I wanna see how wet you got sucking my cock.”

It’s hard to smirk as you are crawling out from under a desk, but you manage. Standing up and sitting on the edge of his desk as you slide your dress up to show Dave your soaked cunt. You could feel how slick you are as you moved and you know he will be very pleased. “Soaked,” you coo softly, your throat a little rough from deepthroating his cock. 

Dave hums, admiring your slick folds, and his hands slide along your thick thighs, squeezing the flesh as he leans in to smell the heady scent of your arousal. “So wet for me. You look like you need me to make you cum.” He coos, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. Your moan makes him chuckle and he pulls his fingers away. “Baby…” You whine and he slaps your pussy. “You know what to call me.” He growls and you pant, “sir. Please.” He loves hearing you beg but he loves to leave you squirming even more. He slaps your pussy again, your slick on his palm, “back to work. I want that report from Davis proofread before I get it.”

You whimper, loving and hating how you are being denied. “Yes sir.” You agree breathlessly, standing on wobbly legs, pressing your thick thighs together. You push your dress down. “May I have my panties back?” You ask, nodding when he just stares at you. You’re not getting them back obviously. “I’ll get right on that, sir.”

Dave smirks when you exit his office, gingerly walking from the arousal slicking up your thighs. He loves working you up, making you beg him to fuck you. A few hours pass by and Dave calls your name, “I want my lunch. Can you get it for me?” He asks, knowing you’ll rush out to get it but he’s not hungry for that sandwich he gets most days from down the street. No, he wants you. He’s hungry for you.

“Yes sir.” You quickly lock your computer and stand to go into his office. Most days you know his order by heart, but you always double check in case he has a craving for something different. Gathering your purse and your keys, you knock on his door frame and try not to smile when he looks up from his computer. “Would you like your regular order?” You ask softly. 

Dave raises his eyebrows, pleased that you ask in case he wants to try something else. “The usual will suffice.” He says coolly and you nod, spinning around. His eyes drop down to your ass and he watches you leave. He licks his lips and turns back to his computer, continuing to read the file on his next op.

Running down to the deli that Dave loves gives you a chance to get in your steps. Deciding to walk instead of driving, changing from your heels to your tennis shoes for the exercise. You constantly ignore the dismissive looks, the skepticism as you hustle by. You’ll order Dave his sandwich and a salad for yourself. 

When you return, Dave looks up to see you carrying his sandwich into his office and he smirks at you, "thanks, sweetheart." He takes the sandwich from you, "go take your lunch and come back here when you're done." He orders, loving the way you nod and hustle out of the room.

You eat at your desk. Aware that Dave could call for you at any moment, that he could need something. Even when you are taking lunch, you know that anything could interrupt that at any point. DIA issues don’t conform to normal hours. Pulling out your own container, you push away the salad dressing, knowing you don’t need the extra calories. Your bottle of water is what you will drink with it, keeping everything as nutritious as possible. 

Dave finishes his sandwich, balling up the wrapper and tossing it into the trash and he decides to grab a coffee. You will be eating and he doesn't want to interrupt you on your break. He makes his way out of his office and sees you sitting at your desk with a salad, dressing on the side. "How the hell can you eat a salad without dressing?" He asks, leaning against the door frame.

You look over at him, lifting a brow at his obvious disdain for your meal. “One bite at a time.” You hum, forking up another bite of the undressed greens and chew, looking up at him. He’s so sexy as he leans there and you wonder again why the hell he touches you. Sure, he’s not as fit as he was when he first joined the DIA, but he was still in much better shape than you have ever been. “It’s healthy and I need to watch my calories.” You smirk slightly. “Already got my protein.” 

Dave scoffs, pushing off of the door frame and he strides over to your desk. He picks up the small pot of dressing and opens it, pouring it over your salad. "Life is too short to eat boring ass leafy greens. You are fucking perfect like you are. Eat your salad with the dressing to be healthy but enjoy your food." He says, setting the empty pot down on your desk.

You stare at him for a moment, wondering why he would ruin your lunch like that. “Okay.” You put your fork down and pick up your water bottle. “Are you needing something else, sir?” You ask politely, taking a drink of water. “You are waiting on me to finish?” 

"Take your time. I do want to see you in my office after you're done." He says and decides to use the bathroom while you are finishing your lunch. "Eat up, sweetheart. You need the energy." He winks and makes his way to the bathroom down the hall.

You smirk slightly, knowing what that means and you quickly toss the rest of the salad in the trash. Rushing off to the bathroom yourself since you are sure that Dave will want to fuck you when you get back to his office. He’s quicker than you, already behind his desk once more when you come back to the hallway outside his door where your desk is positioned. “You wanted to see me?” You ask, slightly breathless after hurrying through your own bathroom ritual. 

Dave nods, his expression serious, and he gestures to the door, "come in and lock it." He demands, watching as you follow his order. "Come here and pull your dress up. I want you to sit on my desk, spread your legs." He orders, his cock twitching in his pants.

You walk towards the desk, pulling up your dress as you go and ignoring the way you imagine your thighs jiggle as you do. Watching as he pushes back from the desk to allow you to move past him and sit on it like you had earlier. Thankful that the desk is sturdy enough to hold you, not even creaking when you sit down and spread your legs like you had been ordered. It’s good it wasn’t one of those glass top things, it would never have supported you. 

Dave’s dark eyes trail along your figure down to your pussy. God, you look delicious and he wants to devour you but right now, he wants to tease you. His fingers trail along your thighs until he is sliding them through your folds. “Want you to keep quiet and cum on my fingers.” He demands, rubbing your clit with his thick digits.

Your eyes close, head tilting back as you suppress a moan. Burying it deep inside, but you love the way his thick fingers caress your skin. Knowing exactly how to touch you from the second time he had fucked you. It’s wrong, but you don’t care when he pulls orgasms out of you as easily as he does. You are a distraction, a comfort to him when he can do the things to you that he can’t or won’t do to his wife and in return, you get mind blowing pleasure. You bite your lip, holding the edge of the desk to keep from rocking forward to meet his fingers, knowing he wouldn’t like you to try to take control. 

Dave watches your eyelashes flutter as he pushes two thick digits into your tight cunt. You moan softly and he curls them inside of you, twisting his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. He loves how you take whatever he gives you. You take it with a moan like a depraved whore. His whore.

He’s going to let you cum. Your next moan is bitten off and you press your lips together to keep quiet. You can’t let anyone passing by hear what he’s doing to you in this office. Leaning back onto his desk even more while he does what he wants with you. “Dave.” you whimper breathlessly. 

He watches you with a smirk, pumping his fingers into your needy pussy and he loves the way you struggle to keep quiet. “You gotta be quiet. Otherwise everyone in the office will know what a slut you are for me. How you take your boss’s cock.”

He loves mocking you. Making fun of how desperate you get for him. Smirking as he stands over you, his fingers buried inside you and looking as if he could be doing anything. You bite your lip harder as he curls his fingers up and presses against that spongy spot deep inside you. 

Dave pumps his fingers a little faster, loving the way your jaw drops and he focuses on that spot that makes your thighs shake. He loves watching you take what he gives you without complaint. Carol would be moaning about how he “isn’t getting the right spot” or “your fingers aren’t thick enough.” You take what he gives you and you fucking love it.

You swear that you are surprised you don’t leave an impression on the desk from where your fingers dig in, you hold it so tight. Hanging on for dear life while he pumps those thick fingers deep into your cunt and makes you feel like the rubber band in your stomach is about to break. “D-Dave.” you gasp out, wanting permission to cum and you are so close now that your thighs are shaking. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Always so good for me. Always so fucking good. Want you to cum for me.” He demands, curling his fingers a little more and you break for him. You bite down on your lip and clench down on his fingers, your head thrown back and he chuckles as you whine quietly.

Dave never immediately pulls his fingers away when you cum, something you are eternally grateful for. Enjoying the trembling aftershocks as he works you through your high and pulls pleasure from you like a skilled surgeon. Fingering you until your walls are done quivering.

He loves the way you slump slightly and he withdraws his fingers from your pussy. “Gonna fuck you now. And you are gonna take what I give you. Take my cock out.” He demands, reaching out to squeeze your tits through your dress.

You whimper, enjoying the rough squeeze and fumble with his belt to pull his hard cock out of his pants. Wrapping your hand around it and pumping it firmly even though it is fully hard from making you cum. Still unable to believe he wants to fuck you.

He bats your hand away after letting go of your tits, and he shuffles closer, pressing the head of his cock to your folds. He pushes into you with a groan and he surges forward to press his lips to your neck when he’s pressing against your cervix.

You whimper, closing your eyes and your hands hold onto his shoulders. Squeezing him tight in your cunt and enjoying the way he groans and twitches inside you. “Fuck.” You gasp quietly, “so good, Dave.”

He grabs your hands, pulling your arms behind your back, and he keeps your wrists together. He arches your back and kisses down your neck, biting on the juncture of your shoulder where it can be hidden by your sensible cardigan. “You always take me so fucking well.” He groans just as the phone rings. “Keep quiet.” He demands, keeping your wrists in his grip and he reaches for the phone, picking it up with his free hand. “York.” He answers and he hears the voice of his wife. “Hey, baby. I wondered what you wanted for dinner tonight.” She coos and Dave continues rocking into you. “The girls said something about meatloaf.” He says nonchalantly as he fucks you a little harder.

You grit your teeth, trying not to make a sound as Dave casually talks to his wife with his cock buried inside you. It’s both thrilling and insulting at the same time, making you wish you had the guts to moan. You curl your hands into fists and bare down on his cock as hard as you can as he fucks you.

Dave chokes at the way you grip his cock inside of you, and he gives you a warning look. “Behave.” He mouths and you smirk, clenching around him again. He shakes his head and continues to discuss dinner with Carol. “Yeah. I won’t be late. Okay, honey. See you later. Yeah, I love you too. Bye.” He says and slams the phone down in the cradle, “you’re a naughty girl.” He tuts, gripping your chin in his hand. “Open your mouth.” He demands and you don’t obey him right away. He squeezes your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth, and he leans closer to spit in your mouth.

You moan quietly, loving how filthy he is when he pushes your mouth closed. “Swallow it.” He orders, snapping his hips forward harshly and making you choke as you swallow his spit. His cock is splitting you in two and you can’t help but wonder how he has the fucking stamina to fuck both you and Carol all the time. You know that if his cock is this good she must want it all the time. You do.

He loves the way you submit to him, take what he gives you without complaint. He hisses your name and lets go of your jaw and your wrists to grab your thighs, lifting them higher on his hips so he can sink deeper inside of you. “You are a dirty slut. My dirty slut. Say it. Tell me who you are.” He demands, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Yours.” You whimper instantly. “Your dirty slut, all yours.” You are breathless when he pushes your legs back, your tits jiggling from the force of his thrusts and you can’t even look over your stomach to watch his cock disappearing into your cunt, but you can feel it. “Your slut, only yours.”

He looks down at where you are taking him. You always take him so well. You are tight and wet and you let him do what he wants to you. Carol doesn’t like anything except missionary and he’s a man who gets easily bored. “That’s right. Mine.” He growls, thrusting harder.

You have to slap your hand over your mouth when you squeal, not wanting anyone to hear you. Taking his rough thrusts and loving how his cock shreds up inside you. He always hits perfectly and you feel your body tensing again, close to another orgasm.

He should deny your orgasm but he doesn’t want to. He needs to keep you sweet. He needs you to want him, to need him. He likes being needed. His cock twitches inside of you, and he slides his hand down to rub your clit, wanting to feel you clamp down on his cock.

“Dave….Dave.” Your whimpers are barely audible, but you know he hears them over the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your cunt. “Fuck baby, oh god.” Your eyes close the second your body locks up, convulsing under his as his fingers throw you over the edge. Shaking apart on his desk violently as your orgasm crashes through you.

Your orgasm makes him groan, eyes closing at how tight you squeeze him, soaking his cock enough to make the slick sounds of sex even louder in the small office. “Shit. That’s it. That’s - you’re such a good girl for me.”

You bask in his praise, soaking it up to hold onto when you’re alone tonight and Dave is with his picture perfect family. You shouldn’t be jealous, but you are and his praises help soothe that beast inside you. You whimper again, wanting to feel him cum. To drip him for the rest of the night until you clean up. “Dave.”

He grunts as he pushes into you, his cock pulsing as he gets closer to his climax. “Fuck. So fucking tight.” He hisses as you clench around him again and he pants, nostrils flaring as he thrusts deep. “Shit. I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna take it all. Fill that pussy up.” He hisses as he thrusts deep and throbs, painting your walls with his cum.

You whine in absolute delight at the heat that floods you. It won’t be as much as when you sucked his cock, but it’s enough to ruin your panties if he gives them back. You sigh softly, trying to catch your breath as you watch him ride out his orgasm, jaw clenched and eyes dark.

Dave closes his eyes as he twitches inside of you. Fuck, you are so goddamn good around him. He loves how you take whatever he gives you. He groans as he withdraws from you, his cum pooling at your entrance already and he reaches into his drawer to pull out your panties. "Want you to put these on and keep my cum in you until you go home."

“Yes sir.” You take the panties from him, climbing off the desk and quickly slipping them on. Taking a moment to fix your appearance so you can go back out to your desk and gather your things. It’s time to go home and you know he needs to leave quickly to spend time with his daughters. “Anything else you need, Mr. York?” You ask professionally. “Or may I go home for the evening?”

Dave tucks himself away, buckling his belt. "You can go home for the night. Tomorrow, I want you to wear that red number I bought you." He smirks and walks over to you, gripping your chin before you open the door, "and keep your weekend free. Carol is taking the girls to her mom's house so I want to come to yours and spread you out on that mattress I bought you and keep you there until the sheets are soaked."

Your just fucked cunt clenches and you nod while he still holds your chin. “Yes sir.” You agree breathlessly, knowing he would be rough and making it hard for you to walk by the time he’s through with you. He will walk into your house like he owns it, because he does. He had bought a house and installed you in it, claiming your apartment was a piece of shit and he didn’t want to get robbed when he wanted to come over and fuck you. “All weekend?”

"Alllll weekend." He confirms, "Carol will be gone and I want you to be ready for me. I am going to use that little pussy until you beg me to stop. And you never beg me to stop, do you baby? You are fucking desperate for my cock." He chuckles, caressing your cheek.

Your cheek burns under his hand, knowing that it’s pathetic how badly you crave him. He’s making fun of you again and like the masochist you are, you enjoy it. Knowing that he is somehow addicted to you because of it. “I am.” You agree quietly. “Always want your cock.”

He loves to hear that. Loves the way your lower lip quivers at the admittance and he chuckles, rubbing your lower lip with his thumb. “Prepare your ass for me. That’s what I want first when I come over Friday night.” He demands, knowing you have the toys he bought for you to keep at your house.

Biting your lip, you nod. Distracting yourself from trying to lean in to kiss Dave. He sometimes didn’t want to kiss you and after he pushed you away that first time, you’ve refrained from trying again. Feeling humiliated enough at being reminded that you are just a fuck for him. “Yes sir.” You agree and feel proud when he smiles. “You should go home.” You remind him softly. “The girls will be eager to see you.”

“Carol is waiting. She made meatloaf and I fucking love her meatloaf.” He smirks and lowers his hand from your cheek. “See you tomorrow, sweet cheeks.” He winks and grabs his jacket from his chair, shrugging it on and he grabs his briefcase. “Text me a photo of your cum filled cunt when you get home. Gimme something to think about when Carol wants me to fuck her later.”

Your smile tightens but he doesn’t notice, because you’ve turned your back to head out to your desk. “Yes sir.” You answer, as if there would be any other answer to give him. You don’t deny Dave, ever. Gathering your own coat and purse, you busy yourself with getting ready to leave as he walks out of his office. “Good night.” You murmur, expecting him to just walk past to the elevator.

Dave winks at you as he walks past you and down the hall to the elevator. You gather your things, walking gingerly as his cum slicks your panties, and you manage to catch the elevator just as Dave and a few others from the floor step on. Dave and you end up pushed towards the back and his hand wastes no time finding your ass under your dress. “Big plans for the weekend, York?” One of the guys asks Dave who clicks his tongue, “oh yeah. Gonna be practically orgasmic. Lying in bed all day.” Dave chuckles and the others snort, “yeah. I prefer getting some extra z’s in than sex nowadays.” Dave nods, “same here man.” He squeezes your ass as the bell rings for the ground floor. “See you all tomorrow.” The guys say as they filter out of the elevator and Dave smacks your ass before he steps away from you, not looking back as he heads to his car to go home to his wife and kids.

Walking to your own car, you unlock it and climb behind the wheel, taking your time to get comfortable. You don’t have to rush home, needing to stop by the grocery store for the low fat creamer you like and find something to eat. Scrambled eggs and cottage cheese maybe. Who knows, but you damn sure won’t be eating meatloaf.

Dave is watching television with the girls before they have their baths and he is tapping his fingers on his chair. You still haven’t sent him the photo he asked for. He picks up his phone after Carol disappears into the kitchen to clean up, and he texts you ‘where’s my pussy?’

You’re reading a book when the text comes in and you curse. Completely forgetting all about Dave’s picture. You almost text him back and tell him to ask his wife for one but you peel off your panties and spread your thighs to take a picture for your boss. You hit send and sigh softly, picking up your book again.

Dave’s phone beeps and he unlocks it, smirking at the sight of your creamy cunt. He loves that you still have it inside of you. He doesn’t respond back, Carol asks him to help with the girls so he sets his phone aside and gets him into bed. “They’re asleep.” He announces as he unbuttons his shirt. Carol smirks at him and shrugs off her robe, showing Dave the lacy nightie she’s wearing underneath. He wants to roll his eyes at the way she thinks she is so sexy but he can’t help but think you’d look sexier. With a sigh, he strips off and does his husbandly duty but he cums thinking of you and your creamy cunt, not of the woman beneath him.

Your bed is large, empty. Dave had insisted on a king bed when he bought it for you. Not that you had asked him for one. When you had moved in, you had the full sized bed that would fit in your tiny apartment. Dave had come over to christen the house and complained about what a piece of shit the bed was. The next weekend, another was being delivered. It’s comfortable, and it makes you think of Dave every time you crawl between the sheets. Wondering if he had the same bed at his house. With a sigh, you turn off the light and settle down. You have already set out the red outfit Dave wanted you to wear tomorrow.

****

Dave smirks when he sees you wearing the red dress the next morning when he comes into work but he doesn’t call you into his office. He wants you to squirm in your seat, preparing for the weekend. He likes to keep you on his toes. He calls your name and you enter his office, eyebrows raised in anticipation, “coffee?” He asks, lifting up his empty cup.

“Right away.” You know that he could get his own coffee, that was probably the second cup he’s already had, but you take the mug from his hand. It’s one you had gotten him as a little silly Boss Appreciation Day gift. It says ‘World’s Okayest Boss’. You had enjoyed the spanking he gave you that afternoon. Really enjoyed it.

Dave watches you leave the room and smirks to himself, knowing he’s going to have fun stripping that dress off of your body. When you come back with his coffee, he thanks you without looking up from his computer. He likes to blow hot and cold, keeping you on your toes.

You roll your eyes as you walk back to your desk and sit down. Amused with yourself for expecting him to act differently. He does this all the time, it’s like a little game and you allow him to pull you like a puppeteer pulling the strings. You shake off the interaction and pick up your own coffee to blow on while you start on your own work.

Dave ignores you for the rest of the day, getting his own lunch from the fridge that he brought from home, and he watches you as you answer the phone and sort through his mail. He can't wait to pull you apart this weekend, spend his time on your body until you're begging him to let you cum. When the end of day comes around, Dave groans as he stretches and grabs his briefcase, "I gotta head home and say goodbye to the girls. Be ready for eight." He orders, striding off to the elevator without looking back at you.

You huff slightly, slowly shutting down your own computer and gathering your things. Annoyed at how he’s ignored you and now expects you to jump to his whims. Still, you make your way home and climb into a bath, starting to get ready for him.

Dave waves goodbye to Carol and the kids as they back onto the road and he blows them a kiss as Carol pulls away from the house. He stands there for a few minutes before he heads back into the house to lock it up. It doesn't take long for him to grab his weekend bag and get into his car, making his way to your place for the weekend, a wicked smirk on his face when he pulls up outside of the home he bought you.

You had really debated if you should put the red dress back on after he had ignored you all day. Part of you wanted to change into sweats to spite him, to be comfortable. Still, you are fixing dinner for yourself, wearing the red dress. Unable to not disappoint him, despite yourself.

Dave lets himself into the home using the keypad, setting his bag down and he makes his way into the kitchen to find you cooking and the radio playing. "You being good to yourself?" He asks, wanting to make sure you aren't just having lettuce leaves like you tend to do.

“Hey.” You turn and give him a smile before looking back at the pan on the stove. “You didn’t say if you were eating with the girls, so I did some steaks.” They are resting in the oven while you finish sautéeing the green beans. “Steak and green beans sound good?” You ask. “You said to be prepared for a long night.”

Dave comes over to grab your hips, pressing himself against you. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get.” He smirks against your neck as he leans in to kiss along your skin. “You’re such a good girl.” He coos, squeezing your ass.

Your mild annoyance at Dave fades when he starts to press against you. Tilting your head as you sautée the green beans so he can have more access to your skin. “Have you eaten?” You manage breathlessly, hoping that he will share a meal with you.

“No. Definitely haven’t had my dessert.” His hand slides around your stomach and up to your breast to squeeze. “You gonna feed me, baby girl? Make sure I got enough energy to fuck you into that mattress I bought you? Make sure you can barely fucking walk on Monday when you come into the office?”

“Yes.” It’s pathetic how you whimper, but his words make your cunt clench. The possessiveness in his tone lets you pretend you are actually his. That this isn’t some kind of game to him. A thrill he gets to have when his wife isn’t around. “I want that.”

Dave chuckles at the pathetic way you whimper and his hand squeezes your breast. “Finish making dinner like a good girl and then I expect you kneeling on your bed in that lacy number I bought you last week.” He murmurs against your cheek.

You hate that lingerie. It shows off how big you are. Your rolls on display and all your cellulite exposed. You had cried when you tried it on and had told Dave that you had been too tired to even open the bag. It feels like it was meant to humiliate you and you don’t want to put it on but you can’t deny him. “Okay.”

Dave grins, “good girl. Now, let’s eat. You’ll need your energy. I am planning to keep you in that bed all fucking weekend. Carol was boring as shit, laying there like a goddamn fish on ice. Need you to show me how good it can be.” He coos, stepping away from you so you can finish cooking.

You should hate how he talks about his wife, how he plays it off like you’re better. But you actually love it. Making you feel like you are giving Dave what he needs, even if you know you’re not. He’s just telling you what you want to hear, to make you feel justified in letting this man completely ruin you for anyone else. You’re completely in love with him and you can’t ever have him. You push that thought away and plate up the steaks and green beans. Bringing it over to the table with the wine already opened, like this is some kind of at home date for the two of you.

Dave groans when he sees the steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare, and he lifts his glass up to you when you are sitting down. “To a perfect weekend.” He toasts and winks when you clink your glass against his. He knows it’s wrong to keep you like this. To make you feel like it’s a relationship but this is his escape. You know him, the dark parts of him that Carol never sees, you don’t judge him for it.

Dinner is eaten quickly, both of you hungry and you preen when Dave groans over the meal you had prepared. Soon enough, you are quickly loading the dishes in the dishwasher and rushing to the bedroom to put on the dreaded lingerie that Dave is so eager to see you in. Even if you don’t like it, the fact that he wants to see you in it makes you strip out of the red dress and put it on, kneeling on the bed just like he had ordered after you had lit some candles and turned the lights down.

Dave takes his time washing up in the guest bathroom. He removes his shoes and socks, unbuttoning his shirt a little and splashing his face with water. He makes his way down the hall and opens your bedroom door, groaning at the sight that greets him. "Fuck. You look - baby girl, this is - Jesus. I fucking love it." He growls, striding over to the bed and he reaches out to grab your stomach, loving how every inch of you is on display.

You don’t wince, but you want to. Hating that he automatically went for the part of you that is least attractive. He seems to not care about the flabbiness, or he acts like he doesn’t care. Maybe he thinks that if he pretends to love your body, you will do whatever he wants. Stupidly correct since you will do what he wants anyway. You lick your lips and wonder what he has planned for you tonight.

He loves your body. A perfect example of softness and femininity in his eyes. You are plush and take everything he gives you. He groans your name and slides his hand up to squeeze your tit through the lace. "Looks so pretty for me."

Dave’s hands are large and they perfectly cup your tits. You enjoy the roughness that is tempered sometimes, but you love when he comes back from missions. Especially if they haven’t gone to plan. He’s feral, harsh, demanding on those nights. Often coming to you to fuck away the stress before he even goes home to his family. Almost always, you have to take off the next day because you are so sore, although it’s Dave sending you home instead of you calling in. “Just for you.” You promise, looking up at him.

He loves that look in your eyes, the one that tells him you’ll give him everything if he requests it. He groans and leans in to kiss along your neck, his hands reaching down to unclasp your bra, wanting to see your tits on display and out of the lace he bought you.

Even if you believe it’s an act on his part, he makes you feel beautiful. His hands worship you in their rough, eager way. You moan when he cups your breasts, pinching the nipples after he drags the straps of the bra down your arms and tosses it aside. The lace panties are barely there, hidden under the rolls of flesh and getting soaked by your arousal. “Dave.” You plea, wanting more, wanting him. Anything he will give you. 

He chuckles, letting go of your breast to grip your chin, “patience. You’re not in charge. Who’s in charge?” He asks with a click of his tongue. “You are, sir.” You say and he hums, “that’s right. I’m in charge.” He leans in to bite your chin before he ducks his head and bites down hard on your nipple. His hands are squeezing your ass to drag you closer to his body.

You whine softly, closing your eyes as the pain and pleasure mingle and you give up any kind of resistance to him. You want him to take what he wants, do what he wants with you. You will let him do anything he wants to you, and he loves that. Your body trembles as his tongue soothes the bite and then he moves over to your other breast, biting just as hard. Another whimpered moan escapes your lips and you pant quietly. 

His hand slides down over your stomach, squeezing the flesh before he snakes his fingers into your panties, the lace giving way to his touch, and he quickly finds your clit to rub slow circles on it.

“Baby…” You moan, cunt clenching around nothing and you love how he just knows exactly how to touch you. He might slap your pussy or spit in your mouth, but the way he touches your clit shows you that he knows what he’s doing with your body. It’s not the careless, fumbling swipes of his fingers like past lovers. He’s methodical and it always tears you to pieces. 

“That’s it. Want you to cum just like this. Get that pussy nice and wet for me. Wanna make you feel good tonight. Tomorrow, I won’t be so kind. Want you to feel good tonight, baby girl.” He murmurs, rubbing your clit a little faster.

Multiple days are rare so you will take everything you can get. It will help when the weekends are lonely and you are bombarded with social media posts with the happy York family in your notifications. “Dave.” You moan, sliding your hands up to cup your tits. “So good. It feels so good\ baby.” 

He leans back to watch you squeeze your tits. “I want to watch you touch yourself.” He reaches for the lace of your panties and rips them like they are paper. “Want you to lay down and show me how you touch my cunt when I’m not here.” He demands, reaching up to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

You moan, shifting to lay down and you spread your legs. Most of the time you use a wand, so you open the bedside drawer but Dave tuts. “Use your fingers.” He orders, making you close the drawer and you slide your fingers down to part your puffy folds and press your index finger to your clit.

He groans as he watches you touch yourself. It’s a sight he never gets tired of. He shrugs off his shirt and lets it drop to the floor, his cock pressing against his zipper and he slowly pulls his belt out of the loops after he unbuckles it.

You bite your lip, wondering if he will spank you with his belt tomorrow. He's only done that once before and you were gingerly sitting down for days, even with the cooling cream he had spread over your generous cheeks. “Not as good as you.” You whine, rubbing your clit faster. “Nothing is as good as you.”

“That’s damn right. Only I can make you squeal.” He smirks and unbuttons his pants but he doesn’t pull his cock out. He watches you with dark eyes, “you’re so sexy.” He murmurs, leaning in closer to watch you touch yourself.

You don’t believe that, but your body responds to the praise. Arching up and spreading your legs wider as your fingers work over your swollen nub of pleasure. “Baby, baby touch me.” You beg quietly.

He tuts, shaking his head. “No. I want you to keep going.” He orders and you whine in protest but he reaches out to smack your thigh, loving the way it jiggles. He doesn’t want you to cum yet. He wants you to work yourself up. “So fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, knowing he needs to tell you that more. You deserve the praise. 

Your eyes slip closed and you start to slowly rock your hips down. Pushing against your fingers and you wish it was Dave. Needing his touch because you can smell him. Dave has a unique scent that you are obsessed with.

He shifts down onto his stomach, his face hovering near your pussy, and he inhales your heady scent as you rub your clit. “Look at me.” He demands, gripping your thighs to push them further apart.

Your eyes instantly pop open, looking down at him between your thighs to see him so close to your cunt. You moan, clenching around nothing again and you wonder if this will be the rare treat of him eating you out.

Dave loves the way you rub your clit and he wants you to feel good. He needs to show you some intimacy every once in a while because it keeps you happy. He can’t be mean to you all the time. He shuffles closer, his dark eyes on you as he bats your hand away and leans in to slide his tongue through your folds, flicking over your clit.

“Dave!” You squeal in surprise, cutting yourself off with a long moan when he drags his tongue through your folds again. “Oh fuck.” You gasp out, ready to do whatever he wants as long as he keeps using his tongue on you. “Fuck.”

He smirks against your folds, loving the way you moan and he laps at you again, determined to make you cum like this. To show you how good he can be. He laps at your clit and his fingers dig into your fleshy thighs, loving the feel of you.

“Fuck Dave.” You whimper his name again, lost in the sensations of his mouth on your cunt. You’ve pleasured him countless times and while he’s always made you cum- except for times he was denying you- you rarely get this kind of treatment. Making you shiver in anticipation of what is to come.

Dave laps at your clit before he slides his tongue down, pushing it into your weeping cunt with a groan. Fuck, you taste so sweet. Always tastes so sweet. He slides his hand up your thigh so he can press his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves while his tongue curls deep inside of you.

Your fingers tangle into the sheets with a low moan, force of habit keeping you quieter than you know he would probably like. You’re home, you can be as loud as you want. Whimpering as he tongue fucks you, your walls soaking his face as you grind against him.

He can’t see your face like this but he wants to hear you. He pulls back for a second, “want to hear you. Moan for me, baby.” He demands before he dives back in to push his tongue deep inside of you.

It’s like you needed his permission, moans spilling out of you in increasing volume. Letting yourself go and making sure he knows how much you love his tongue buried in your cunt. “Fuck! Fuck baby, you’re so good. So fucking good to me.”

He loves to hear how much you love it. He wants you to be addicted to him, to need him. He loves hearing you moan his name, he wants you to want him. His tongue curls deeper, his cheeks pressed against your thighs as he tries to taste more of you, his thumb rubbing your clit a little faster.

“Oh god.” You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as you pull at the bedsheets. “It’s so- it’s too much.” You gasp, so close to the edge. A few more swipes of his thumb and you are crying out, clenching around his tongue as you soak his face.

He hisses as you clamp down on his tongue, loving the way you cry out so beautifully. Carol never reacts like that. She’s so cold and emotionless. Probably why he married her. Less complicated. Yet now he yearns for your noises, your thrashing from pleasure. He fucking loves it.

He works you through it. Continuing to lavish your cunt with attention until you are wrung dry. Almost overstimulated and your thighs try to close around his head, but you don’t dare. The last time you tried to deny him, he had tied you to the bed.

Dave smirks against your thighs as you finish trembling around him. Fuck, he loves the way you take whatever he gives you. You’re gorgeous and he wants you to believe it, even if he controls your life. He wants you to know that you are desirable. He pulls back from your pussy, chuckling at the way you whine slightly and he slaps at your sensitive folds, “hands and knees.” He demands, pulling his cock out of his pants and he doesn’t take them off yet.

You pant as you roll over, pushing to your knees as you face away from him. Eager to have him inside you after such a blissful orgasm. Only Dave has ever fucked you as hard as you need and made you feel like it wasn’t just a pity fuck, or some need to get his rocks off. Your ass wiggles slightly as you get comfortable and you moan when he slaps it.

He shifts to kneel on the bed, his hands squeezing your ass and he works fast to position his cock at your entrance, pushing into you in one quick thrust. He grabs his belt when he’s fully inside of you, wrapping it around your throat.

Your sharp inhale says it all. You’re surprised by the force around your throat. Eyes bulging in your head and it takes you a split second before you stop yourself from reaching for it. Knowing that you are safe with him because if he wants to kill you, there are easier ways. Instead, you moan, clenching around him.

He loves the way you moan. He grips the leather, using it to keep you still as he thrusts into you. His pace is unrelenting as he fucks you hard. His jaw clenched as he grips the belt, tightening around your throat.

You can’t take full breaths, every last drop of air is being fucked out of you when he slams his cock back inside you. Panting as he rides you, fucks you with no mercy and any sounds you make come out as tiny squeals. Holding on as your eyes roll back in your head while he drills into you.

He is practically straddling your ass and thighs as he rams into you. Sweat beading on his forehead and jaw clenched as he thrusts into you. He groans your name and tightens the belt, loving the squeak that escapes your lips.

It’s almost more than you can take but you press against the belt slightly. Wanting to drop your head but you can’t. Clenching around him when it cuts off your air more. “D-Da-ave!” You gasp.

He loves the way you gasp for air, it makes his cock twitch inside of you. He can feel how close you are to cumming and he doesn’t want that. Not yet. He groans and pulls out of you, loosening the belt.

Gasping, you collapse onto your elbow and suck in air greedily. Not even able to speak for a moment as you try to catch your breath and calm down.

He chuckles at the way you slump. “On your back, hands gripping the headboard.” He demands, “gonna make sure you cum but you won’t be getting off easy.” He smirks and you struggle to shift onto your back. “Hands.” He tuts, reminding you.

You push to your hands and flip onto your back, not caring for once that everything moves. You know it’s an unflattering picture, but you don’t care right now, still panting as you reach up and grab the headboard of the bed.

Dave immediately straddles your figure, leaning down to wrap the belt around your wrists, securing you to the headboard. “Such a needy little whore. You’ll let me do anything, won’t you?” He smirks. Lightly slapping your cheek, he chuckles at the way you shine, his hard cock pressing against your belly.

“Yes, yes sir.” You pant out, positively dripping from how sexy you find all this. It’s like every dark romance novel you’ve ever read and it’s even better. “Anything you want. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

He loves hearing you say that. “Such a good fucking girl.” He groans, leaning in to bite down on your nipple as he shuffles down your body. “You’re so sexy. And all mine. It’s all mine.” He growls against your breast, his cock twitching, and he slaps your other breast while he bites down and sucks on your skin.

You whimper and moan, body jerking at the harsh slap, but you love it. Your hands are tied, you are immobile and still you wouldn’t move if you were free. You want his attention, you need it. “Fuck Dave.” You whine. “More.”

Dave shakes his head, shifting further down your body. "You don't get to make demands. Who fucking owns you? Who owns this pussy?" He growls, reaching down to cup your cunt. "Who owns this goddamn house and your entire wardrobe?"

It’s true. Dave has bought most of your work wardrobe, all of your lingerie and underwear. The only thing that he didn’t buy was the comfy clothes you wear when he’s not around you. You don’t know how he manages it without Carol knowing, but you’re sure it’s funded from his offshore account. “You do. You own me.” It would be horrifying if you didn’t want to be owned by him. “I’m yours.”

He loves hearing you say that. His chest puffing and his cock twitching at the way you openly declare that he owns you. “That’s right, baby. You’re mine. My slut.” He growls, slapping your thighs. “Beg me to fuck you.” He demands, slapping your thighs again.

You moan, eyes rolling back at the sharp sting of his hand. “Fuck me please.” You beg breathlessly. “I need your cock inside me. Only you can make me cum like I need.” You praise him, knowing how much he loves the way you are needy for him. “Please fuck me. Please baby.”

He reaches out to grip your chin, “what do you call me?” He growls and you whimper, “sir. Please fuck me sir.” He smirks, “that’s better.” He smacks your cheek and shifts to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and he pushes into you with a hiss at how wet you are.

You cry out, cunt clenching down around him and the sting on your cheek just adds to the sensation. Your hands tug at his belt, wishing you could touch him. “Fuck! Yes, of fuck yes, sir. Fuck me, please sir. I’m yours.”

He loves the way you writhe beneath him, “that’s it, baby. Take me so well. Take every fucking inch.” He pushes impossibly deeper inside of you. “You are gonna take every goddamn inch until I fill you up and then you’re going to keep my cum inside of you because I fucking own this pussy.”

“Yessss.” You moan quietly, squeezing around him again. You love when he’s possessive and makes you keep his cum inside you. You feel like he has a breeding kink that he doesn’t really talk about. You’ve never asked, it’s none of your business and even if he did, he would never want you to have his child.

Dave grunts as he starts to move, his hands squeezing your flesh, sliding his hands up your body to grab your tits. He squeezes the flesh and pinches your nipples, loving the way you moan his name. That breathless sigh and way your eyes roll back has him twitching inside of you.

Dave rocks into you, making your entire body move with each harsh thrust. Making you moan and whine for more as he does what he wants and makes your thighs shake. He fills you up, his cock seemingly the perfect fit for your cunt, or perhaps it was that your cunt has adapted to his cock. Either way, the way he punches against your walls makes you squeal.

He rams into you, his jaw clenched as he fucks you harder. His hands are squeezing your flesh and he wants you to cum for him. He doesn’t want to deny you, he wants you to squeeze him, soak him. He loves hearing you cum. The way you moan his name.

It’s always intense. Building you up quickly from the snap of his hips and his cock shredding up into you. Everything comes together in perfect harmony. You don’t even warn him you’re about to cum. Your back bows and your second orgasm of the night has you screaming his name, his cock hitting perfectly as you soak him as you squirt.

“Jesus Christ. Look at that.” Dave groans, pulling out of you fast so he can watch your juices splash over the sheets. “Such a dirty little whore. Squirting all over my cock. And look at you, you want more, don’t you?” He chuckles, reaching down to wrap his fingers around his soaked cock, jerking himself.

“Yes, fuck yes.” You pant, knowing you would be so embarrassed if he didn’t find it so sexy. “Need more, sir. Need you, so fucking much.” You tug against the restraining belt again, wishing you could touch him. Stroke his cock for him or suck him off. Anything to give him pleasure.

Your moan is needy and he chuckles, continuing to jerk himself off. “So fucking needy for my cock. Maybe I should just jerk off and cum over your tits. Or I’ll cum over your pussy? Won’t let you feel it inside of you. Or your mouth. What do you want?” He coos sadistically, wanting to torture you.

You whimper, knowing that whatever you say, he will do the opposite. He likes to toy with you, twist you around and loves when you beg him. “Whatever you want. I just want you to feel good.” You moan. “Use me. Use me however you want.”

Dave loves it when you beg him to take what he wants. He continues to pump himself before he lets go, pushing back inside of you in one thrust and he grabs your thighs, pushing them back towards your body. He groans at how tight you are like this.

You grunt, your ability to breathe is nearly cut in half when he pushes your legs back. Moaning quietly as he starts to thrust into you again. All you can do is take him. Your cunt quivering every time he fills you up again and trying to hold him there as he pulls out. “Fuck.” You pant.

He’s feral. Taking out every bit of stress he experienced from work and home out on your pussy. He grunts through clenched teeth as he pushes deep into you. “Take it. Take it like the fucking whore you are. Say it. Say you’re my slut.” He growls, fingers digging into your thighs.

You can barely make a sound when his hips slap against the back of your thighs but you try. “Y-y-yooouuuur sl-slut.” You stutter out, curling your hands around the belt tighter as he hammers into you like a jackhammer.

He hisses, his cock twitching inside of you, and he’s close. So fucking close. “Want you to cum again for me.” He demands, fucking into you hard and fast. He wants you to squirt on him again before he feels you up.

You whine, knowing that if he wants it, he will get it. Dave is tenacious like that. Your toes curl as he ramps up his pace and you are just amazed he hasn’t stopped for a break yet. “D-D-Dave!”

He grips your flesh even harder, harsh breaths escaping his lips as he pushes into you over and over again. “Cum for me. Cum.” He demands, “fucking - do it. Now.” He growls, his back starting to ache but he won’t give in.

Daves orders are like the switch your body needs. Shaking, you cry out breathlessly again. Unable to even say anything, just crying out as you shatter again. Feeling the liquid rush and nearly passing out from the pleasure.

Dave fucking loves the way you soak him and the sheets beneath you. He hisses and pushes deep a half dozen more times, his thrusts squelching as he presses the head of his cock against your cervix and lets go. He groans and his cock pulses as he fills you with hot cum, his head dropping to rest his chin on his chest.

He fills you, your eyes slipping closed and you know that it’s perfect. You’re exhausted from the way he fucked you and you know that if he wanted more you would give it to him. You can’t even catch your breath, but you don’t know if you want to. Opening your eyes again to watch him as he rocks his hips slowly while filling you up.

He pants, closing his eyes as he fills you, and he squeezes your thighs until he relaxes, releasing your flesh from his grip. "Fuck." He huffs happily, knowing that only you can make him feel like this.

****

Since that night, Dave has been out of town for several trips and having to focus on a few different cases that have included long hours and work outside the office. That’s a good thing, because if he had been in, he would have noticed something before you did. You stare at the paper, chewing your bottom lip as fresh tears gather and you wonder how the hell you managed to find yourself in this situation, although that should be rather obvious. You’ve been so upset that the last two days you’ve taken off from work. Next week Dave will be out of town, you can have your procedure and he will never even know there’s been a pregnancy.

Dave can tell there's something wrong. You don't respond to his texts as fast as you normally do. You aren't as starry eyed when you look at him when he walks past your desk before he heads out on an op. He is concerned - not that he'd ever admit that. He decides to head home early. The case is wrapped up and Carol thinks he is out of town for two more days. You won't be expecting him but you'll let him inside. He pulls up down from your house, not on the drive, and makes his way to your door, opening it with the key he had made and he steps inside, wondering what's been going on with you.

Coming out of the bathroom, it’s been a bad day. Between crying and getting sick, you feel horrible. Brushing your teeth after you lost the soup you had eaten, you groan quietly as you move to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The appointment is tomorrow and you are nervous and heartbroken at the same time. It’s confusing and your anxiety is just making you more sick. “Fuck.” You huff to yourself, hearing your phone ding in the living room. It’s probably Dave and you don’t want to talk to him right now.

Dave watches you, a frown on his face at the way you scramble for the phone. It’s not him calling you. He hovers in the hallway and sees a piece of paper on the side. Curious, he picks it up. His nostrils flare when he reads the word ‘pregnant’ and he hisses under his breath, shaking his head. He sets it down on the side and strides into the living room where you are on the phone.

“Yes, thank you.” You bite your lip, emotions crowding your voice and you try not to cry. “Two o’clock. And should I expect any cramping after? Or just the bleeding?” You listen and when Dave steps into the living room, you jump and gasp. “Yes? No, uh, sorry, my- my cat scared me. Okay. Okay, thank you.” You quickly end the call and get up from the couch nervously. “Dave. Um, I didn’t expect you.” You bite your lip, knowing you look like shit. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you, eyes narrowed as he takes in the gaunt look on your face, the ragged sweats, your greasy hair. You look sick. He crosses his arms as he looms over you, "were you ever going to tell me?" He demands to know.

You shiver at the dark look in his eyes. He knows. You could lie, deny it, but it would be an insult. He’s a fucking DIA agent and an assassin on top of that. He’s not stupid. Your shoulders round and curl in on your frame. “No.” You admit quietly. “Never.”

“And you were gonna get rid of it?” He asks, his tone flat, face indifferent so you can’t see the emotions rolling inside of him. He can’t believe it. You’re pregnant and you weren’t going to tell him.

You choke out a huff and gesture helplessly. “What else am I supposed to do?” You ask rhetorically. “I can’t have this pregnancy.” You’ve tried very hard not to think of it as a baby. Under different circumstances you would have been thrilled to be pregnant, but this isn’t the case. “Don’t worry, it’ll be done tomorrow and you will never have to think about it again.”

Dave growls, “you were gonna kill my baby and not even fucking tell me?” He strides over to you, grabbing your throat to push you against the sofa, his fingers wrapped around your neck. “I have a fucking right to say what I want.”

For the first time, you are truly scared of Dave. Choking out a cry and grabbing his hand, hoping he doesn’t try to hurt you. “I- no.” You shake your head. “It’s my- you’re married!” You don’t understand why he would be mad, he should be relieved. “I’m just the woman you fuck!”

“You’re not getting rid of it. You’re keeping the baby.” He commands, his fingers still wrapped around your throat and you whimper, “but you’re married. I can’t - we can’t -” He tuts, “I’ll look after you. I promise. I can’t be with you but I’ll make sure you and the baby are looked after.” He promises and you sob, “I can’t do that.” 

Dave scoffs, “you’re going to do it otherwise I’ll kill you.” Your eyes widen at his threat, “I’d rather you kill me. It’s better than being in love with you and not being able to have you.” You spit at him, and he chuckles darkly, “you're a silly little girl if you don't think that I fucking worship the ground you walk on. I'd move in tonight if I could, but l have my girls and I can't abandon them. Can't leave them with their useless cunt of a mother. You're fucking blind if you can't see that I love you too. That you have me.”

You’re so conflicted, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t understand, I thought- I thought you would be mad I was pregnant.” You confess, sobbing harder. “You- you want me to have the baby?” You ask, sure that he would have wanted the complete opposite. “You love me?”

Dave scoffs, letting go of your throat to caress your cheek, "do you really think I don't love you? You silly girl." He shakes his head, "of course I do. When have I ever said something I don't mean?"

You almost flinch but end up leaning into his touch. Sighing softly because it’s true, Dave never says something he doesn’t mean. At least not to you. There’s never been a need to lie when you know all his dirty secrets. “You don’t.” You admit quietly.

“Exactly.” He caresses your cheek again, his dark eyes burning into you. “I won’t lie to you.” He promises, sliding his hand down and he shifts to kneel beside the sofa. His eyes watching you as he shifts to hook his fingers in your leggings, watching you as he pulls them down. “Wanna taste you.” He murmurs, pulling the restrictive material off of you and flinging it across the room before he yanks your panties off. It doesn’t take long for him to dive in, sliding his tongue through your folds.

“Dave!” You cry out, unable to believe that he is eating you out again. You had expected him to lecture you, to yell at you. You whimper, so sensitive since you hadn’t been able to have sex the past few weeks. You hadn’t even masturbated because you had been so sick.

Dave laps at you, sucking your clit into his mouth and his hands push your thighs further apart. You taste different but he likes it. You are sweeter. He growls into your flesh, his hands sliding to your ass, lifting your hips so he can push his tongue inside of you.

“Dave, baby.” You whimper, closing your eyes and your fingers slide down to curl into his hair. You wouldn’t normally do that, but you also had never expected to find out Dave loves you. It shifts the dynamic slightly. “Baby- I love you so much.”

Dave groans into your flesh, not pulling back to say he loves you too. He’s already confessed his feelings and he’s not one to give gushing soliloquies of love. He knows you know how he feels. His tongue pushes deeper and his nose presses against your clit. His hand slides up to your belly, resting there to feel where his child is, to feel your beauty.

His hand on your stomach brings tears to your eyes, finding it soft and sweet. His tongue pushes inside you as he caresses your stomach. It’s sweet and dirty, your nerves sensitive and he doesn’t stop until you are gasping out, close to cumming.

He wants you to cum for him, his tongue sliding up to your clit, lapping at it and your moan makes his cock throb in his pants. You are fucking perfect. Untarnished despite his filthy touch on your flesh, you are an angel. He is the devil that crawled from hell to touch you. He shouldn't be allowed to be near you, his touch ruins everything yet you remain so innocent. He laps at your clit, his free hand shifting until he is pushing two fingers inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Dave.” You whimper his name, his thick fingers giving you the fullness you crave. You want his cock inside you, but you don’t know if you could handle the harsh pace he fucks you at right now. “So good. You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I love those fingers inside me.”

He pumps his fingers, groaning at the way you clench around them. Your pussy is wet, soaking his digits, and he hisses at the way you moan his name again. You’re so good to him. He sucks your clit back into his mouth, wanting you to cum for him.

It doesn’t take long to work you up. Your body has been neglected, from his work schedule and your lack of interest, although when he touches you it sets you on fire. “Dave!” You cry out, lurching up and catching sight of him right before the stars burst behind your eyes and you shake apart on the couch for him.

Dave groans when you clamp down on his fingers, making him moan your name around your clit as you writhe under his touch. He doesn’t do this often but he felt like he needed to do it because you’re carrying his child.

The last time Dave ate you out, it was actually the night that you made your child. You had tracked it back to that weekend that Dave had spent the entire weekend in bed with you. It was a good time. “Dave, baby.” You whimper, starting to feel like it’s too much, but you don’t push his head away.

Dave withdraws his fingers when you start to whine and he shifts to hover over your body. His lips glistening as he watches you with dark eyes. He doesn’t press his body down on yours but he leans in to softly kiss you. He doesn’t kiss you unless it’s to bite you but right now, he wants to be soft.

The kiss takes you by surprise but you lean into it. Wondering why he is being so soft with you right now. Is it because of the pregnancy? Your fingers are still in his hair and they unfurl to slide down to his shoulders. “Do you want to fuck me?” You ask when he pulls back.

Dave shakes his head, “no. Not tonight. You need to sleep. Have you eaten?” Dave asks and you bite your lip, knowing you’ve struggled to keep anything down. “I’ll make you an omelet. Carol could barely keep anything down except eggs when she was pregnant with Alice.” He shifts off of you, grabbing your panties for you to put back on, and he reaches down to adjust his hard cock after he stands.

You stare at him for a moment, shocked that he is denying himself. He's never denied himself unless there was a meeting he needed to be in. And that was only if he was needed in person and couldn’t video call. You slide your panties on when he disappears into the kitchen.

**** 

Carol hums as she watches the floors pass by on the screen. The Tupperware in her hands as she rides to her husband’s office. She hasn’t seen a lot of him lately. He’s been working late nearly every night and she wants to catch up with her husband. She’s missed him. The elevator dings and she steps out, making her way down the hall to Dave’s office. She steps into your desk area, knocking on the door, and your eyes widen when you see her. “Mrs - Mrs York, how are you? Was Dave - was Mr. York expecting you?” You fumble to look at your computer and Carol’a eyes trail down your body to the bump you’re sporting. 

“Are you - are you pregnant or did you get fatter?” She asks bluntly, her lack of concern for your feelings is obvious at the indifferent look on your face.

“I-“ you can’t believe that she just asked that, feeling your cheeks heat up and you hate that you can’t call her a bitch, but that would just cause issues for Dave. “I’m nearly seven months along. Twenty-seven weeks, thanks.” You offer her a tight smile and your hand slides along the bump that houses Dave’s child. 

Dave walks out of his office, hearing you talk to someone and he’s become slightly protective as you have gotten further along in your pregnancy, coming home with you every night before going to his home. He says he wants to make sure you are safe, but he often cooks to make sure you eat since you are still getting sick. “Carol? What are you doing here?” He asks with a frown.

"I brought you lunch since we haven't been spending that much time together." She holds up the tupperware in her hands. Dave stifles the deep sigh that nearly escapes his lips. "Yeah, uh, it's been busy here, hasn't it?" He asks you and you nod in confirmation. 

Carol hums, looking back at you, "seven months? Wow. I didn't even know you had a boyfriend. Dave always says you're painfully single." She smirks slightly, "congratulations to you and your...do you have a boyfriend?" She asks, wondering if he left you when you said you were pregnant. She's never liked you. You're too pretty and even if she was mollified because you're fat, she doesn't like the idea of you being outside Dave's office day in and day out.

It takes extreme discipline not to look over at Dave, but you just shrug slightly. “No.” You tell her without expanding on the question at all. Let her stew. It’s not like she doesn’t have reason to hate you, you are sleeping with her husband and pregnant by him, but she doesn’t know that. She’s just always been a bitch to you. She doesn’t have mythical intuition or some gut feeling. She made snide comments before the relationship between you and Dave went anywhere beyond professional. “Well, I will take my lunch now, since yours is sorted for you.”

Dave nods, watching you go, and he can't say anything to tell you he's sorry for the behavior of his bitch of a wife. He sighs as you stand up and his eyes drop down to your belly, full and round with his child. He swallows harshly and steps back to open his office door, "come on then, darling." He tries to keep the bite out of the nickname.

Carol looks back at you and gives a small smile. “Hopefully you are eating healthy, and not for three.” She lifts a brow. “You don’t need to put on too much more weight.” You don’t say anything, just turning and opening the bottom drawer to pull out your purse.

Dave wants to step between you and his wife but he can't. He tuts as Carol steps into his office and he shuts the door behind her a little too forcefully. "Why the fuck would you speak to her like that?" He growls, "she hasn't done anything to you." 

Carol scoffs as she sets the Tupperware down. "Just taking up too much room. Poor baby. Gonna come out with diabetes." Carol scoffs and Dave snorts, "you had gestational diabetes with Molly." He reminds her but she sits down opposite his desk and shrugs, "well, I lost the weight." 

Dave rolls his eyes before he sits down, "be nice to her. She works hard."

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Carol waves towards the office door, satisfied that she can hear the elevator ding as it opens and you leave. “I’ve missed you, lately.” She pouts. “The girls have missed you.” She knows that whatever might be going on, and she knows something is going on, Dave loves the girls.

“I’ve been busy with work. Paperwork…reports…meetings.” He lists off and watches Carol open the Tupperware. Her cooking is decent, not as good as yours. “I miss the girls.” He says, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I miss you, baby.” She coos, fluttering her eyelashes and Dave bites his lip, wondering how to handle this. He hasn’t slept with Carol since he found out you are pregnant. “I have a meeting soon.” He declares, “can’t be too long for lunch.”

“You’ve been working too hard.” She huffs. “We need to take a weekend away. Maybe go up to the cabin?” She smiles and winks at him. “The girls always sleep like the dead up there so you and I can have some alone time after they go to bed.”

He knows he can’t say no. She’d get suspicious. So he nods, “sure. We can do that.” Carol frowns at his lack of enthusiasm. “Let’s eat.” He says, gesturing to the food she brought, “I don’t have a lot of time.” He reminds her and she huffs, handing him the lunch she brought him.

The food is good, but Dave is wondering where you went to eat. What you are eating. He’s been making sure you’ve been eating well, for the baby and for your easily upset stomach. Carol talks to him about the girls, something that he enjoys and he can’t help but wonder what they would think about having a sibling. Holding the baby when they come. You hadn’t wanted to find out the sex of the baby, wanting it to be a surprise.

Dave kisses Carol goodbye just as you walk into the office, your eyes averting the couple, and Dave smiles at Carol. “See you at home.” He says and she smirks, “don’t be late.” The lunch you just ate swirls in your stomach and you rush to sit down just as Carol leaves. “You doing okay?” Dave asks after she’s gone, “what did you have to eat?”

“I’m fine.” You brush away his concern, upset from Carol’s visit and you know that you have no right to be. You’re not his wife, she is. “I had a chicken wrap.”

Dave tuts, “is that all? That’s not enough, sweetheart.” He says, walking over to you. “How’s the baby? You blocked out your appointment for next week in my calendar?” He asks, leaning over you with concern in his eyes.

You’ve learned not to argue with him about food, he gets snappy when he thinks you are trying to lose weight while carrying his child. “You don’t have to come.” You protest again, even knowing it won’t do any good. He’s been there for all the appointments since he found out. “But yes, to answer your question. I did.”

“Good.” He hums, glancing back towards the open door, he takes a chance to lean down and kiss you softly. “Carol is a bitch. Don’t let her upset you. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He promises and steps back just as Justin from a few doors down walks by. Dave steps back into his office, knowing the days are ticking down and he has to make a plan. He can’t have this double life anymore

Dave doesn’t follow you home tonight. He tracks your phone, you know that, but he still insists that you text him the moment you get inside your house. You don’t even mention that he will know when you get home because he installed a camera system that alerts him to anyone showing up at the doors. As you’ve gotten further along, he’s gotten more protective. If you didn’t cling to the words he had told you months ago, you would think he’s paranoid about you doing something to get rid of the baby. Not that you could now. You love the little bean growing inside you and are looking forward to holding them. You wave to the camera when you unlock your front door, knowing that Dave will see it.

****

Carol cuts the engine to her car, just parked down the street from your house, and she gets out. She had to look up where you live and to her surprise, your home is registered under a corporation. The same one she knows her husband has his name to. She is curious about that. She makes her way to the front door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for you to answer.

Surprised that someone is ringing the doorbell, you wonder if it’s a package. Dave has been buying baby things online and sending them to the house. Your new maternity lounge clothes are comfortable and cute, highlighting your baby bump, so you don’t feel the need to change before you open the door. “Mrs. York!” Your eyes widen in surprise and you look behind her to see if Dave is with her. Why is she here? “May I help you?”

Carol pushes into the house, uncaring of your condition as she bumps into you. “I just wanted to see the place for myself. I mean…if my husband is the one paying for it, I should see what it’s like, right?” She scoffs, turning to face you.

Dread curls in your stomach, but you manage not to react. That’s what she’s here for, a reaction. “I don’t know what you mean.” You move towards your phone, even though the cameras are picking up everything in the house. “I’d like you to leave.”

Carol offers you a cocky smirk, “I don’t think so. Especially not when you’re carrying my husband’s baby. Have you always been a fat whore or did you just become that for my husband?” She asks, the grin still on her face. “Or are you just a gold digging cunt? Offering my husband a wet pussy to get a meal ticket? Too late honey, I already secured that bag.”

You swallow slightly, unable to figure out what she is planning. “I’m not-“ you shake your head. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” You repeat and put your hand protectively over your stomach. “I just want to live with my baby, alone.” You don’t want her to think that you are trying to take Dave away. You know where you’ve stood from the beginning.

Carol scoffs, “alone? As if. I see the way you look at my husband. All heart eyes. Waiting for the moment he decides to give you some attention. You can’t get a lot of it so you decided to move in on another woman’s husband. Pathetic.” She spits, “and got knocked up. Probably on purpose. I don’t know why Dave fucked you when he has me. Probably sympathy.”

“I admire your husband.” You clarify. “He’s not fucking me.” It’s a lie, but you can’t let her know that Dave is having an affair with you. “My baby is from a previous relationship. I work for your husband.” You pick up your phone and point towards the door. “Please leave, I won’t mention this to him.”

Carol doesn’t believe you. She saw the way Dave looked at you when she went to his office. She’s suspicious about why he has been so late coming home. She narrows her eyes and doesn’t realize that Dave is watching on the cameras, cursing his wife for going to the house. He grabs his keys and gets in his car, making his way over to your place with his phone still displaying the cameras. “You are a liar as well as a slut. Trying to steal my husband from me.” She hisses, tears stinging in her eyes.

“Honestly? I just want to have my baby and live my life.” You tell her quietly. “I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but I’ve never tried to come between you and your husband.” You’ve never asked Dave for anything, not even now. You know that he’s not leaving his wife for you, even if he loves you. Even if you’re having his child. “Go home to your husband, Carol. This isn’t what you think it is.”

Carol doesn’t know what possesses her as she surges forward, a feral cry escapes her lips as she reaches out to wrap her hands around your neck just as the front door opens and Dave rushes in. “Carol! What the fuck?” He growls, reaching for her waist to drag her away from you.

You push her away as Dave drags her off of you, gasping for air and shaking as you realize this woman just attacked you. “You bitch! I’m gonna kill you! You and that fucking bastard in your fat stomach!” Carol screams as she tries to get away from her husband to launch herself at you again

Dave restrains her easily, pulling her back against him and saying her name. “Calm the fuck down!” He shouts at her as she struggles in his arms, “you fucker. You got her pregnant. I can’t - why- why would you do this?” Carol chokes, slumping back against him.

“I’m telling you, it’s not his baby!” You shout, not caring if Dave likes it or not. “He helped me get away from an abusive boyfriend.” You lie. “Putting me in this house so he couldn’t find me.” You know Dave doesn’t want to leave his family and you will protect him if you can.

Dave shakes his head, spinning Carol in his arms. “It’s my baby. I’ve been sleeping with her for months. It’s my house. I pay for her livelihood. Because - because I love her.” He confesses and Carol’s jaw drops. “You- you love her?” She chokes and Dave nods. His wife knows he doesn’t say that stuff casually. “I don’t - why?” Carol asks and Dave tuts, “you know why, Carol. You and the trainer. Like I don’t know. You’ve been cheating on me for years. I let it slide because of the girls, but I don’t love you. You don’t love me. I didn’t want to leave the girls.” He admits, “let’s be real here, you felt a change.”

“Dave…” you bite your lip, not wanting to get in the middle of their confessions but you didn’t want him to do that. You had been willing to let her believe it wasn’t Dave’s baby. Why would he ruin that? Your hand slides down to the baby bump, feeling them kick against your hand.

Carol’s lower lip quivers. She knows she can’t contain her husband. Never has been able to. He could make her disappear if he wanted to. “I- I didn’t - I did what I thought was best for the girls. I love Caleb. I didn’t - I’m sorry.” She chokes, tears stinging in her eyes. 

“Then let’s not drag this out any longer. It’s over, Carol.” He declares and she nods, knowing she can’t stay married to him when you’re having his baby. It’s over.

You press your lips together, watching her pull away from him and look towards you. “Guess you get what you want after all.” She scoffs, but it’s not nearly as hateful as it once had been. 

“I had no intention of taking him away from you and the girls.” You promise quietly, although it doesn’t matter now.

“Go home, Carol. The girls are with Sally next door. Go home and I’ll talk to you later so we can get the ball rolling for our divorce.” Dave declares and Carol nods, defeated. “Okay.” She looks back at you, “just don’t - don’t let this be for nothing.” She pleads, knowing her husband never truly loved her. Only married her because she got pregnant.

You swallow and nod, not saying anything right now. It would almost be disrespectful. You watch as she turns and quietly walks to the door, exiting much softer than she had ever entered. You can’t help but just stare at the door as it clicks closed and you exhale slowly.

Dave sighs, hands on his hips as he turns towards you. He stares at you for a moment before he steps closer, his hands reaching for you. “Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you?” He asks, eyebrows raised in concern

“No.” You shake your head and let him pull you close. “She didn’t hurt me. Dave- why didn’t you let me pretend it wasn’t your baby?” You ask. “The girls….you didn’t want to leave them.”

Dave sighs, resting his head on yours, “I didn’t have a choice. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t want to be here with you every night in your bed. I couldn’t lie. We made this baby.” His hand slides down to your belly, “I couldn’t lie about that. I love you. Carol and I- it was over a long time ago.”

You sigh and cover his hand with yours. “I didn’t want to come between you and your family.” You repeat softly, wanting him to understand that. “But I wanted you in bed beside me too. I love you.”

He kisses you softly, breathing you in. "I gotta go deal with Carol later but I promise you, after I deal with her, I am here to stay." Dave vows, "I wanted to give you something." He murmurs, reaching into his pocket after letting go of you. He pulls out a small velvet box. "Dave." You gasp, "what is that?" He opens it to display a beautiful ring. "It's a promise. I can't give you everything right now, but I promise you I will. When I can."

You lean in and kiss him, amazed that the once hard and rough man who fucked you ruthlessly is promising you the world. You have no doubt that he will still fuck you until you are weak once you’ve recovered from the baby, but for now, he is tender and more importantly, he loves you. “I’m yours, baby.” You whisper against his lips. “Forever.”

****

"Alice! Slow down!" Dave calls out to his daughter as she rushes past him chasing Molly. His son is in his arms, a whimper escaping the baby's lips and Dave smiles, cooing to the little boy. "Baby, you ready to go?" Dave asks, knowing you are nervous to leave the kids alone but Carol is taking the girls for the weekend and the baby is going to your mom's for the evening so Dave can take you out for dinner.

“Just a second!” You know that Dave is eager to leave, but you take another second to readjust your dress. It’s the red one that you had worn before you got pregnant. Maybe a little tighter than before, but you wanted to look good for him. Biting your lips before you apply the same shade lipstick. It’s just dinner, but it’s the first time you’ve gone out since having the baby. Since Dave’s officially moved in and the divorce has been final. It was amazing how quickly they got things settled and now, he lives with you and your son. Blotting your lips with a sliver of toilet paper, you rush out of the bathroom and out into the living room. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Dave's eyes widen at the sight of you. "You look fucking amazing." He says quietly as he walks over to you, not saying it too loud for the girls. "I can't wait to take it off of you later." He murmurs, his dark eyes trailing over your figure and he leans in to kiss you, mindful of the baby between you. Your mom knew about you being pregnant but you kept it secret that it was Dave's until the divorce was final. Your mom wasn't pleased about you sleeping with a married man but her distaste of him is outweighed by her love for her grandson. "Girls, we gotta get in the car. Grab your backpacks!" Dave calls out before he turns back to you, "his diaper bag is ready and he's been fed."

“You are amazing.” Dave has been the best kind of hands on father. He’s done diaper changes, sleepless nights, midnight feedings, all without a single breath or complaint. He was born to be a father, you are utterly convinced of that. Kissing his lips lightly, you giggle and reach up to wipe the smudge of red off. “Want me to put him in his car seat?” You ask.

Dave nods, "you take him. I'll get the girls." He winks and strides off to wrangle his daughters. "Come on ladies, gotta go. Your mom is waiting for you." He orders and they grab their backpacks and head into the garage. Dave straps them into their booster seats and blows a raspberry on Alice's cheek, making her giggle. He checks the baby seat and turns to look at you as you carry his son into the garage.

“He’s about ready to fall asleep.” You smile as you hand him the car seat to latch into the base. Watching as Dave carefully locks him into the SUV he insisted you be upgraded to, saying that it was only fair when it would be the car you used when having the girls. You hadn’t argued, but thought him getting a Mercedes was a little much.

Dave opens the door for you, closing it after you're settled, and he rounds the car to get in. He starts the engine and looks in the mirror at his children. With a smile, he sets off to drop the kids off. Carol is cool but cordial as the girls arrive at her house and it doesn't take long to drive to your mom's house to drop off the baby. "I know you hate leaving him but he will be fine." Dave reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

“I know.” You are so very grateful that Dave has been so understanding about your first time mother’s nerves. “Mom loves him to pieces and it will be good to have a meal where I’m not covered in formula or spit up.” You laugh. “I love him so much.”

Dave chuckles, "they grow up so fast. Enjoy the spit up...believe it or not, you'll miss it." He promises and you snort, "we will see." Dave waits in the car while you drop the baby off, watching your mom glare at him slightly but her face softens when she sees the baby and that's all that matters to him. When you get back in the car, he begins the journey to the restaurant he booked. "He didn't even blink when I left." You huff playfully and Dave chuckles, "that's not a bad thing." He squeezes your hand again and when he pulls up outside of the restaurant, he gets out and rounds the car, opening the door for you before the valet can.

You smile as Dave helps you out of the car, finding it amazing for your self esteem for him to so proudly claim you as his. He doesn’t mind that people know in the office, he holds you close in stores. He’s not ashamed of your size. “Thank you, baby.” You coo softly, giving him a flirty smile. You have been cleared for sex again, although you and Dave haven’t yet. You hope that’s why he wanted to bring you out to dinner.

He thanks the valet and escorts you inside, giving his name for the reservation and soon enough, you're seated at the table. He orders a bottle of champagne and your eyebrows raise, "well, you stopped breastfeeding so figured you could celebrate with something nice." He says, "and tonight is about us."

“It is?” You pick up your water and take a sip as you wait on the champagne. “What do you have in mind for us?” You know that Dave has been happy, at least you think he is. He’s been smiling and the girls actually enjoy coming over. They are obsessed with their little brother, and you couldn’t be happier about that.

The champagne is poured, you order your food, and Dave has a soft smile on his face as he watches you. "You look gorgeous tonight, baby." He murmurs, reaching for your hand.

“I’m just happy I fit into the dress.” You admit with a small shrug. Carol’s words had hurt, just like anytime someone had degraded you because of your weight, but Dave told you that you are beautiful so many times, you might actually believe it. “You do make big babies.”

Dave chuckles, "maybe the next one won’t be big." He hasn't made it a secret that he wants another baby with you. He loves seeing you pregnant. You smirk, "give me a chance to recover, baby." He nods, knowing it won't be too soon. "We got time, sweetheart." He promises and shifts to get out of his chair. "That's why I brought you here tonight. I wanted to ask you something." He kneels down, a small box in his hand. "You are incredible. A kind, gorgeous woman that somehow loves me. You are the most incredible mother, partner, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and protecting our family. Will you marry me?" He asks, opening the box.

You swallow, looking from the ring to his eyes. “Dave….” You whisper, not really expecting him to propose, even though he had promised you the world. “Of course I will marry you.” You agree quickly, starting to cry from happiness.

He grins, surging forward to press his lips to yours. You respond eagerly and diners around you applaud while Dave pulls back to get the ring, sliding it onto your finger. He kisses the back of your hand before he kisses you again, "I love you."

“I love you too.” You promise, unable to believe that you are engaged to marry this man. He’s got a dark side, of course he does, but he’s also sweet and generous and loving. “The ring is beautiful.”

Dave is happy that you love the ring. He kisses you once more before you sit back down. The waiter comes over with dessert and a “congratulations" and Dave can't stop smiling as you dig into the dessert with him.

It���s probably a normal thing to be hyper aware of the ring on your finger. You catch a glance of it every time you take a sip of champagne. “God, this is perfect.” You moan as you take another bite of the chocolatey dessert. “Orgasmic.”

He smirks, “took the word right out of my mouth.” He watches you admire the ring, and he is glad you love it. You finish the dessert and he pays the bill, eagerly to get you home. You look delicious in that dress. He loves it. He can’t wait to get you out of it. “I am gonna go to the bathroom before we leave.” You declare, eager to get Dave home too and he nods as you get up to go to the bathroom. The waiter congratulates him again and Dave thanks him, standing up after a few moments. You’re washing your hands when the door opens and Dave clicks the lock. “Dave?” You gasp and he steps over to stand behind you. “Sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing your neck.

You can’t help but tilt your head to the side so he can do whatever he wants. Just because you haven’t been able to have sex hasn’t meant you didn’t want to. There have been a couple of times you’ve blown him since the baby has been born. He’s rubbed your clit until you’ve cum, but the sexual touches have been limited. You know what his intentions are. His lips are curved into a smirk as he kisses your skin and his already hard cock is pressed against your ass. “Dave.” You whimper, reaching back to squeeze his hard length and your cunt clenches when he twitches in your hand. “We shouldn’t.” You protest mildly, knowing you will let him do whatever he wants to you, just like he always has. 

“We should.” He declares, kissing along your neck while his hands reach down to squeeze your tits through your dress. “We can’t be long. I’m gonna fuck you here and then spend all night eating that gorgeous pussy out.” He promises, “my fiancée. Gonna make you feel good.” He vows, his hands sliding lower so he can drag your dress up your hips. “Tell me no.” He pleads, kissing your shoulder, wanting you to be comfortable. Such a difference from the man who took what he wanted from you before.

Your answer is to push your ass back against his cock, grinding it against him to hear him moan quietly. You know that he’s been eager to touch you, and you honestly want him too. His sparkly new ring on your finger, it’s the perfect way to cap off the night. “Fuck me, baby.”

Dave groans, shoving your dress up higher and his fingers hook into your panties, dragging them down your thighs. You got an IUD placed after having the baby so he knows it's safe to cum inside of you again. Your panties drop to your ankles and he steps back so he can unbuckle his belt and pull his throbbing cock out.

You watch in the mirror, groaning when you see him pump his cock. Your desire hasn’t diminished, at all, only heightening as he sleeps beside you every night. “Fuck.” You whimper, knowing the pinch of him filling you again will be amazing. “Hurry baby, we don’t want to be caught.”

Dave groans as he slides the head of his cock through your folds, loving how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, not wanting to hurt you, and he rests his head on your shoulder, trying to keep it slow since you’re still recovering.

It’s a lot, you’re panting from the way that he fills you. Your fingers curl around the sink edge and you moan quietly. “Fuck, baby. You’re so thick inside me.” You praise him softly. “Missed this so much.”

He groans when your walls flutter around his cock. His hands slide up to cup your tits, squeezing them through your dress and your bra. "Shit. You feel - you're my little slut again. Aren't you? All mine. Only mine." He growls softly into your neck, biting down a little on the skin as the wave of possession surges through him.

You moan quietly, nodding your head quickly. “Only yours.” You promise, panting as you clench down around him again. “Your slut. Only yours, baby.”

He loves hearing it. Knowing it’s his baby, his ring on your finger. His cock inside of you. He groans your name and pushes into you, a little harder, “fuck. You feel so good. I’ve missed those.”

You whimper quietly, having felt the same. You’ve missed the physicality of being joined with him. He manages to smooth your insecurities and your doubts with his lusty, rough manner. Though he’s being more gentle than he was even the last time you had sex before the baby was born. “Love you.” You gasp, pushing your hips back. “Use me.”

He grunts, knowing that you wouldn’t say it unless you meant it. He grabs your waist, pushing into you again and again, your hips and belly hitting the counter. “Fuck. Feel so good, baby. Don’t have much time. What do you need?” He growls, his hand sliding up to squeeze your tit.

“Choke me.” You beg quietly. He wouldn’t put his hand on your throat while you were pregnant, not even once. You’ve missed when he controls your breathing and your cunt quivers around him at the mere idea.

He nods, sliding his hand higher until he’s gripping your throat. “That’s it baby.” He groans when he feels you clench around him. He loves it. He loves how filthy you are. He thrusts into you a little harder, pushing deep.

You gasp out a little sound before you bite your lip, knowing you have to keep quiet. Holding onto the sink while your fiancé squeezes your neck and starts fucking into you at a quick pace.

He clenches his jaw, squeezing your neck a little tighter. He wants you to cum. He wants you to fall apart around him so he can watch you in the mirror. Cock twitching inside of you, he is close himself and he wants you to cum first.

It’s been so long, the flex of his hand around your neck makes you come apart. Cry catching in your throat, you make a strangled sound as you soak his cock, shaking as he rocks into you.

He groans at the way you clamp down on his cock, soaking him, and he hisses through his teeth when you grip him in a vice. He struggles to continue fucking into you, his grip loosening around your neck but his jaw clenches as he pushes into you a half dozen times until he thrusts deep and pulses as he cums inside of you, painting your walls.

You shiver in delight, enjoying the heat from his cum filling you. “Fuck, Dave.” You whisper quietly, closing your eyes and leaning back against his broad frame.

He turns your head to kiss you, caressing your cheek, and he starts to soften inside you. “Too good. Missed this.” He murmurs, caressing your side. “Shall we go home?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you and reaching for the napkins.

“Yes.” You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck. “Pick up the baby, put him to bed and then I want to suck my fiancé’s cock.”

Dave groans, loving how eager you are. He leans in to kiss you, his hands finding your ass and he only pulls back because the door rattles. “Come on baby, let’s go get our boy and go home. After we are married, we will work on the next baby.” He smirks, smacking your ass after he pulls your panties up. He might be a killer but he’s found the woman who knows him, all of him, and he won’t let you go. He’d kill to protect what is his. No matter what it takes. You’re the woman he needs. 

[mrsparrasblog]

Take Me to Church

Summary: John MacTavish, the black sheep of his traditional chatolic family, hides his polyamorous relationship with his boyfriend Simon and you their pregnant plus-size girlfriend from his judgmental relatives. When you visit his family while being 9 months pregnant you need to face the reality of his cruel family.

Normaly I think his parents are the most supportive folks but this idea popped up in my head.

TW: Pregnancy, mention of labour, mention of homophobia, fat phobia and strong catholic beliefs, has a happy end

John MacTavish was always the black sheep of his family, and for most of his adult life, he was okay with it. Seeing his family only three times a year made him endure the hate he got from his brothers. In their humble opinion, he was wasting his life; a career in the military wasn’t sustainable. He would risk his life for what? For no wife to come home to and no bairn. If they had seen his single-room bachelor apartment in Glasgow, they would cringe even more. Moving to Glasgow was another thing they disapproved of. He could have lived on the farm like every other MacTavish, crowded with all his nephews. He really loved them, but coming back from every deployment to help on the farm left him with no freedom and several set-up dates with "proper" Scottish girls.

If it had been his grandma’s choice, he’d marry a thin, catholic Scottish girl. And despite the girls being absolutely beautiful, it just wasn’t what he wanted. John MacTavish only had four wants in his life, and his family could only respect one of them (the want for a good whiskey). Becoming a Military Captain wasn’t one of them, dating his Lieutenant (coming out as BI would be an early grave for his grandparents and dad), and his fourth want was you, the beautiful, soft girl who made him and his Lieutenant go crazy. His family would have approved of you being a girl, but you being an atheist, not from Scotland, a plus-sized girl (which he and Simon absolutely adored), and you being in a relationship with both of them at the same time, would be another matter. Sometimes he laughed thinking about what would scare his family more: him being bi, only dating soft, curvy women, being in a poly relationship, or dating two "foreigners." He decided the poly thing would be the final death blow for his family.

So he hid this side of himself for years, hurting himself and, more importantly in his eyes, hurting you and Simon. Both of you tried hard not to act hurt when you spent another Christmas without him because he needed to attend his family gatherings without his dark secret.

The thing about secrets is they can never be kept, especially if his secret was crying in his strong arms with the famous device with two lines in your hands. “Johnny, what am I gonna do?” you sobbed while he tried everything to ease your mind. He knew it was his, always knew. Simon couldn’t be the dad; he had decided as soon as he was 18 to go to the doctors and take the responsibility to never have children.

The first months of the pregnancy were beautiful despite all the throwing up. When you thought you had two guard dogs before the pregnancy, you were so wrong. You didn’t even know that people could get so protective. Simon was attached to your hip every second he wasn’t on deployment, shooting death glares at anyone who even dared to look at you. Johnny didn’t allow you to clean or cook. “Won't let ma pregnant girl cook. What kind of lad do you think I am?” Johnny huffed as you complained about being pregnant and not sick. Even the sex got better; you were living the life with your two perfect boyfriends.

To his surprise, Simon was happy about the news. A child wasn’t something he thought was in his cards, but with you and Johnny, it could be possible. Even if he had the fear that the baby would only accept Johnny as his dad, you immediately told him that he was an idiot—the child would see him as the dad he was. "Who cares about fucking biology?"

Until your last weeks of pregnancy, when it was finally time to drop the bomb on Johnny’s parents. You wanted grandparents and uncles for your baby so badly. In the end, you regretted your decision.

Scotland, Kingussie

You wore a cute sundress, one of the only things that still fitted you since the pregnancy. You looked radiant; pregnancy suited you. And Johnny’s hand in yours, waiting for his parents to open the door. Johnny told you only half the truth when he said his parents were happy to meet you. They were, they just didn’t know half of it. And you were long asleep when Johnny and Simon had a fight about him finally telling his parents about him and that he mattered too. This didn’t help you prepare for what would happen once you entered the cozy farm in Scotland.

The door opened, and an older woman hugged Johnny immediately. “We missed you, my sweet boy. Show me the lovely lass you brought home.” One glance at you was enough to make her gasp. “Dear God, you’re pregnant!” Her blue eyes scrutinized you. To her credit, she really tried to hide her disgust, not wanting to judge you. “Is it yours, son?”

“Mom, of course it’s mine.”

“Well, congratulations.”

She walked inside the house while you and Johnny removed your shoes. Both of you fell into an awkward silence. “Johnny, what the fuck was that?”

“Mo leannan, I’m sorry. They’re a bit catholic, but they mean well, I promise.”

“Johnny…”

“Please, give them a small chance, and then we can leave whenever you want.”

You sat down at the enormous table. Fourteen pairs of blue eyes stared at you like you were a foreign alien invading their beloved home.

“So, you’re Johnny’s lass?” his father asked gruffly.

“Yes, Johnny and I have been dating for four years,” you smiled softly. Simon and Johnny were the best four years of your life.

“Four years, so I assume that bairn is yours, Johnny?”

“Of course it’s his,” you snapped, offended that he even asked. You would never cheat on Simon and Johnny. There wasn’t even a reason—the relationship and the sex were perfect.

“I didn’t talk to you, lass. I asked my son.”

“Dad, of course it’s mine.”

“So, you’re telling me that you compromised that poor girl?”

“Compromised?” you asked, confused.

“Not even English by her lack of vocabulary,” his grandfather chimed in.

“I told you, Johnny, you can’t just let your urges win. Look at you, knocking that poor woman up and not even asking for her hand in pòsadh,” his father gripped the table, trying to calm himself down.

“Do you know how much shame you bring to this family, Johnny? I would have given you your great-grandma’s ring, but no, you decided to take the MacTavish name even further into ruin. We accepted all your poor choices, lad, but now you’ve got a non-Scottish girl knocked up without any wedlock.”

“It’s not like the ring would have fit on her fat finger anyway,” his brother mocked, and that was Johnny’s final straw. He grabbed your hand, ready to leave.

“I won’t bother you with my shame anymore. Come, mo leannan.”

“Please, Johnny, stay. I promise Dad and Grandpa won’t say a word. We just never heard of you having a girlfriend, and now she’s pregnant. It’s a big shock.”

Johnny wanted to protest, but you really wanted your baby to have grandparents to love her. You whispered in Johnny’s ear that you needed to stay, at least try it for Sophia’s sake.

Another choice you regretted as soon as you saw haggis on your plate. “Johnny, what’s this?”

“I’m sorry, mo leannan. I told them you’re vegetarian,” he said apologetically.

“It’s good for the baby, lass. At least try it before you mock it,” she said, and you hated yourself for being a people-pleaser because the minute you tasted it, you ran to the toilet, throwing it up.

“That was a tad dramatic.”

“I get it, lass. When I was pregnant with my cute Johnny, I couldn’t hold anything in. Do you already have a name?” His mother really tried to make amends, giving you a bit of slack while his other family members couldn’t.

“Yes, we thought about Sophia.”

“That’s not a Scottish name,” his mother’s tone was full of disappointment.

“You cheated on John!” his grandpa started to scream at you.

“What?”

“The MacTavish family has never born a girl. Never.”

“Grandpa, you better shut your mouth.”

“How dare you talk this way to me in my own house!”

“Mo leannan, start the car already. We’re leaving.”

You went as fast as your swollen pregnant legs could carry you, trying to close your ears to the conversation.

“You won’t see my bairn. You disrespected the fucking love of my life. Who cares if she isn’t Scottish, or not Catholic, or fat? I fucking love her like this. She is the most intelligent, funny, beautiful woman on earth, and I’m going to have at least three babies with her, and you won’t see any of them. Or me. And by the way, I also fuck a man too.” He ignored the screams of his grandfather, how he was disowned, the pleading of his mother to rethink his choice. All he needed was to get back to you, the baby, and drive you to Simon, his perfect family.

“Mo leannan, I’m sorry. I should have done this years ago.”

“I just want to go home, Johnny. I’ve had enough.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to be mad at him or thankful for protecting you and your baby like this. But before you could decide on that, your shoes were already soaked. “Johnny, the water broke.”

“Yeah, I’ll fix it at home.”

“What?”

"Well, I don’t have a screwdriver here, and I won’t ask my dad for one."

"Why do you need a screwdriver?"

"To fix the car. You said the water broke; you meant the leak, right? Simon was already on it, but I guess it’s opened again."

"No, Johnny, my fucking water broke."

He stared at you in horror before he scooped you up and started to run. "Where are you running, Johnny?"

"To the hospital."

"We have a bloody car."

"But it’s leaking."

"Johnny, I’m leaking, not the bloody car," you screamed in pain after one of your first contractions.

"Fucking hell, I can bring that baby. I helped a cow with labor; it’s the same, right?"

"Johnny, you’re going to drive me to a fucking hospital. I’m not some highland cow."

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

After 16 hours of painful labor (MacTavish babies are huge), your sweet girl was finally born, and Johnny didn’t even faint, much to Simon’s surprise, who almost caused six car crashes on the way to you. And now you were lying in bed, barely awake, looking at your tiny bundle of joy in Simon’s burly arms. It was enough to make a grown man cry. Kyle, Johnny, and Simon were just amazed by the baby.

The door went wide open. "How is my girl?" John ran towards your bed, looking to see if you were injured, hurt, and alive, holding you tight in his arms. He didn’t even look once at Sophia; he was just too afraid about you. "Sorry, I was afraid something happened to you with these muppets." You always wished to experience a father’s love, and right now you realized you didn’t need to have Johnny’s dad or grandpa for this—you had Captain Price.

"It’s okay, Dad," and this was enough to make Price bawl his eyes out. He always wanted a daughter, but infertility was a cruel curse on him. He kissed your forehead. "Let me look at my granddaughter." He accepted this role without hesitation, when you saw your baby between her two loving fathers, her uncle Kyle, and her Grandpa Price, you knew she already had the family you were searching for.

A/N: I don't approve of anything his family said if this isn't clear, I was almost in the same situation (without pregnancy) meeting the strongly prejudiced grandma of my partner. So please don't come at me with hate, already have enough of it in my asks :)

[sosickastro]

Indulgence (Bts x Chubby reader)

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

Chapter 2

Poly Bts x Chubby Reader, Soulmate au and Idol au

Summary: Poor broke and isolated mc gets the chance to go to a concert with an old high school friend, with hoping to find their soulmate and see the biggest boy band in the world. A new shocking reality hits her while at the concert.

Chapter Warnings: degrading thoughts, poor writing and grammar, gender confused reader, anxiety, mc being a loner, mentions of weight insecurities, swearing, fat phobia, etc (let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: second chapter omg I actually wrote it in a decent time span, I want to say thank you for the support for the first chapter! I will try my best to keep up with posting chapters, etc, etc, As we all know, Grammarly is my lord and savior, but even they can't fix my awful spelling mistakes, so let me know if anything is wrong or just ignore it for the sake of the story.

word count: 2,034

(Thank you Corinnecousins on Pinterest for this picture)

Perviously on Indulgence:

"Then for the first time in my life, I felt a tug, anxiety filled my stomach as I froze in my tracks, and my heartbeat went through the roof as I looked down at the red thread I usually forget about, it loosened. Holy shit I am near my soulmate. Holy shit. Lauren notices that I stop walking and now staring at my pinky finger asks me “Are you okay?” I initially looked around the bus station, there were a lot of people walking around, too many to see where the string goes. “Is it your soulmate?” Lauren asks me again. I couldn't speak, my mouth dry as I gave her a shaky nod. But unfortunately just as it loosens it quickly tightens again, meaning my soulmate either left or is on a bus going further away from me. “I wonder if he felt it” I questioned out loud, looking at Lauren with shaken eyes. She sighs, almost equally disappointed “Come on Clare is waiting for us, we don’t want to keep her waiting.” Lauren tells me, grabbing my hand and basically dragging me to the exit. I can’t stop staring at my red thread, there's hope. There is always hope. Now I at least can find comfort that he is in the States, and not in Korea or Russia or anything far away. "

We make it to Clare’s car, she smiles at me as this is our first time meeting. I put on a smile as I tried to push through all the emotions I was feeling at the moment. But it is more complicated than I’d like to admit. The man I moved halfway across the country for is now somewhere in the city that’s only 3 hours away from my 4-year hellscape of a college.

 I let out a deep sigh as I looked over to Lauren and Clare, who were having a quiet conversation themselves. Clare nodded at something Lauren said, a look of concern and slight confusion filled her eyes, and spread across her face. “I’m fine yall— let’s get going before I hear another kid scream their head off,” I tell them with a slight chuckle, hoping that I’m schooling my face well enough to at least look like I’m fine as well as my typical dry humar distractes them from the imdending breakdown I am bout to face in tminus 10 seconds. 

Lauren eyes me up and down while also looking deep into my very soul to see if I’m lying to her. Clare shrugs, “I agree.” Lauren seems to give up her soul searching and nods her head. In silence that was not completely awkward, we got into Clare’s small car. I shove my bag and myself into the back seat, hoping that the fabric of the cheap seats swallows me whole.

 After 30 minutes of awful pop music from the local radio station, – Clare saying something about “keeping up with the latest music” – Clare’s occasional road rage and cars honking, we reach a small street lined with small shops and other downtown “hippie” and “local” boutiques. As God was on our side we found a decent parking spot with little to no casualties, though I was pretending not to feel the curb that Clare drove on top of.

 As the other two girls make their way to one of the many shops we will visit, I try to find it in my very core to move and get out of this stupid, beat-up car, but my every soul has died and been replaced with a mopey version of myself. I keep asking myself, “Would I ever have that chance again? To be that close to him?” The feeling of hopelessness seems to seep into my bones and takes over into my soul as I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of despair. A gust of wind hits my arm, making me shoot up in shock I yell at Clare as she laughs at me hanging off the open car door. “Come on, man, Lauren is dying to check out this new shop.” I rolled my eyes and finally found the courage to step out of the car; the car isn’t stupid, just my feelings.

 I breathe in the cold air as I match my footing with Clare, following her mindlessly as we catch up with Lauren, who is currently star-struck over this shirt. “Guys, what! Look at it!” Lauren practically screams at us, I laugh at her as I feel myself letting go of its tight grip on the soul-crushing reality. Maybe spending some money and indulging in giving the greedy company my mind, body, and soul is what I need at the moment.

 The rest of the afternoon is spent with Lauren dragging Clare and me around the street, jumping and hopping from one store to another. I found a few tops that were cute and appropriate for the concert but as for pants my fear was proving to be true as none of the shops had my size, or like any normal sizing I mean come on even the chubby girls like to overconsume, and spend all their money on a pair of jeans. 

“Isn't this so cute!” Lauren yells into my ear as I lazily glance over the rack of tops. I throw on a smile as I examine the clothes “Oh yeah, it fits you.” She smiles back at me before her eyes start analyzing the shirt once again. “I’m going to ask Clare what she thinks,” before I can respond Lauren already walked away from me. I sighed but smiled nonetheless, as I went back to looking at the mildly ugly and small tops in front of me, 

“You shouldn’t be here,” a small but pitchy voice says to me. I turn my attention to the owner of the offending voice, only to see a short girl who looks like she would be blown away by a strong gust of wind. I swear to all that is holy, if this goes in the direction I think it is, I’m gonna hole myself up in my room for the next decade. “Excuse me?” I ask the lady, confusion dances across my face as I tilt my head down at her to get a better look, black jeans, black top, and oh- look! A name tag, great, she works here. 

“I’m saying,” her pitchy voice raises a notch as she scoffs at me. “You don’t belong here, none of these sizes will fit you.” She gives me a once-over before crossing her arms and staring up at my face. Yup this went exactly how I was expecting it to. Look, I’m not a Karen or anything of the sort, so the following things I say don’t represent me at all. My eyebrow raised in amusement at her sheer audacity, but two can play this stupid game. 

“Oh, really now? I’m sure your manager or other coworkers would love to hear that you're being rude to a customer just based on their weight.” I give her a fake pout. Her eyes widen at my words, “I’m sure this establishment prides itself on being fat-phobic to their customers, so maybe you will finally get some recognition. Oh! And this interaction will make you get that pay raise you have been hoping for!” I fake excitement in my voice, but I am channeling all the sarcasm I have collected over the 19 years of my life. 

 She starts to stutter as her eyes are wide as dinner plates, her hands come out in front of her, trying to fix her comment she made about me as she fails over and over to come up with something to smooth over her mistake.  Another employee walks up to us, “Is everything okay over here?” The employee is an older woman and much more secure with herself. I smile at her, “Actually, no, this employee over here was telling me to leave this establishment because of my weight, and I feel very disrespected,” the said offending short girl’s body regrets itself as she turns to the older woman, trying to explain and justify herself. Again, I am not a Karen of any sort, but I am not going to let myself be disrespected by this Barbie regret just because she is insecure and projecting it onto strangers. 

The older woman smiles at me, ignoring her. “I’m very sorry she said that towards you, honey, by no means do her words represent the company and what we stand for. Rest assured, this behavior will be dealt with.” I gave the older employee a polite smile, thanking her as she took the younger girl to the back of the store. Once they left, I let out a deep sigh. Look, just because I handled that well doesn’t mean I wasn’t blowing up on the inside.

I scan my eyes around the store, spotting my two friends over the accessories. Taking another deep breath to steady myself, I make my way over there, I just need to turn off my brain and have fun. I can’t let comments like that get to me. For the next hour, we went to two different stores. I managed to find some pants that make up a complete outfit for the concert. I felt more giddy, as maybe the world isn’t so bad when you have a new outfit to wear and show off. Us three stopped at this small cafe for a late lunch and a breather.

 Lauren took the liberty to fill me in on the latest gossip and drama going on in her arts school, as Clare and I just ate peacefully. “Oh hey, what happened back at the bus station?” Clare asks me once Lauren’s gossip train slowed down, I cursed internally, as I was hoping not to think about that again. I shake my head, “It was my soulmate, the string was so tight like he was right there next to me. I was freaked out by it” I explained to her my body shrinking on itself as I reminisced on the feeling of being so close to him. Clare gave me a look of sympathy as she shared some comforting words with me.

 “Holy shit-“ Lauren’s voice breaks through my self loathing as the said girl is starting at her phone like it personally offend her, me and Clare exchanged confused looks “What’s wrong?” I ask Lauren carefully, but as soon as I speak, she shoves her phone into my face. I had to squint my eyes to adjust to the screen as I read the headline on a news article

 ‘BTS THE BIGGEST BOY BAND HAS A 8TH SOULMATE?’ 

“holy shit?!” I shout out as well as I take Lauren’s phone to read through the article quickly to make sure it wasn’t some clickbait but as I read more of it, statements from Bighit and Namjoon himself explain the situation. I passed over the phone to Clare as I stared in disbelief. Their soul group isn't complete? Does this mean that ‘SoulTies” is wrong, or did they just not know? But these guys are on a world tour right now. How are they just now discovering they have an 8th soulmate? 

“Wait, guys, did you read this part?” Clare questions us as she scans her eyes over the phone, “According to the leader of BTS, Kim Namjoon, also known as RM, Him and one other member felt a tug and their red string tightened when at the bus station in the city, where they are performing this Saturday.” Clare finishes reading the segment of the new article. 

I think my brain stopped working at that moment. A million thoughts raced into my head all at once, and the main one is “Could I be their soulmate?” but theres no way, there's no way I am the person. Besides, it's nearly impossible as well since we probably were at the bus station at two different times. There was no way two members of BTS where at the bus station and didn't cause a huge commotion. “Do you guys think we were at the station at the same time as them?” Lauren asks us, there is a childlike amusement in her voice, but Clare, thank god, shuts down that thought immediately. “There's no way, we would have seen a bunch of armies going apeshit as well as a million security guards and paparazzi.” I hum in agreement as I finish up eating.

“Well, maybe we should head to your guy's places since it's getting late.” I changed the topic to hopefully not down Laurens' hopes to much. The other two girls agreed as we packed up and paid for our food. We walk down the once busy streets, now its just a few stray people going home like us. When we came into view of Clare's beat-up car, I sighed in relief. Today was fun, a lot of it if I dont think about how much money I just spent, but there is still this nagging feeling in my chest that something is wrong, and that my soulmate is closer to me than I think, and with the article? I dont know what to think at all, I just want to enjoy the concert and leave this stupid city. 

.

I watch as our soulmate gets into the back of her friend's car, and my chest aches as I see the small pout on their face. Soon, you will be with us. 

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

previous

[wroteclassicaly]

Pick You Up At 7

(Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader)

Summary: When your date goes bad, Gator reacts in unexpected ways.

Warnings: Language, implied smut/smut, low self-esteem, body dysmorphia, food insecurity, fat phobia, fat shaming, Gator and reader roast one another, have nicknames, mentions periods, Gator being a tad misogynistic, anxiety, and depression.

Word count: 2,913

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader

A/N: This one isn’t for the faint of heart, folks! It’s straight up self-indulgent, it’s intense. So… yeah. Read the warnings and read at your own risk! Wanted to provide a little release/comfort for myself, and I’m proud of this one!

You knew they were laughing as soon as you got into the office the next morning. Not so subtle hushed whispers and baiting for remarks that you’d normally snap back with. But you keep your head down, lunch forgotten in the car. You’d never let someone tell you what he had last night, not usually, but you’re sure that it’s what you expect from the guy you hate yourself for really wanting - will do, that’s got you worked up the most.

No, that’s a lie. It’s an added situation, but what happened on your date last night, you’ve never felt so disgusted or panicked.

The men continue to talk before they go back to paperwork and shit talking, leaving you to shed your winter attire carelessly by your rolling desk chair. You sit down as if it’ll break, pulling your long gray buttoned down cardigan over your form. It’s not what you usually wear, either. Proud to show off your figure, knowing the guys here aren’t into your extra pounds, it never bothered you that much to put your cleavage on display while working in the police station as their only secretary. If they have any inkling towards you, then it’s ‘do me a favor’ or ‘get a beer for me, maybe join the rest of the boys as we hit on every other female but you’ kinda thing.

The air in the place changes before the sound of his thick leader combats approaches your desk. You keep your head down and plead, pretending to organize old files that are ready for the shredder.

Please don’t. Please don’t come over here. Please. Please.

“Hey, twerp.” He leans over the counter, vape in one hand, his newly freed arm propped across his other.

You raise a brow as your simple acknowledgement, trying to hold your breath as his cedarwood cologne and mint hair gel soak into your nostrils when he bends down to sort through the little decorative holographic candy dish you keep. Annoyingly, seconds later he’s whining. “Where’s the goods at? The fuck? Shit’s practically empty.”

Go away.

You manage to speak, cringing at how cracked your voice is, dangling over the precipice of breaking down. Here. In front of everyone. In front of him.

“I’m working right now. Go to the Dollar Tree if you want candy so fuckin’ bad.” You don’t even address him with a nickname or his last name. And it unnerves him. With a shove of your small crystal bowl, you watch the leftover mints slosh onto the counter and over your papers, and only then your reaction is what he wants. He needs you to look at him.

He’s smirking and chewing on the filter of his vape, blowing a smoke cloud into the air and making you grit your teeth. That clock in the distance sounds louder, cheaper. And Gator Tillman takes your distracted gaze and creeps around and starts looking at your desk. It’s your space here, regardless. And up until now, he used to know that too. You sigh, asking him what he’s doing,

“Where’s your purse, kid? You must be hiding it all in there. You on the rag, that it? Would explain why you’re being a bitch and the stuff isn’t here.”

“Gator…”

He kicks your coat aside, but pauses his searching when you say his name. Like a damned addiction he can’t yet admit to

“Calm your granny panties down. Where is it at?”

“It’s not here.” You’re losing control of yourself. He keeps pushing.

“Why? You know nobody gives a shit if you bring your red tide plugs in here. Can’t have you bleedin’ all over shit. It’s mighty unprofessional, you know?”

“Take your shriveled little ballsack elsewhere, I’m bored with you.” He’s grateful you’re engaging, hands sliding over his cargo pockets and patting.

“Or —“

Your heart rate accelerates, knowing exactly where this is going. It’s why he originally came to your desk, you’re not stupid.

“ — You didn’t get laid last night. Would also explain this crap.”

“Stop it.” It's pathetic, a weak demand, even to your ears, but it’s all you got, that anxiety clawing your esophagus and winding up around your lungs like a cobweb, squeezing like a vice.

“I told you he was a loser, darlin’. You never listen. So what happened?”

“I asked you to quit.”

“And I asked you what happened. What? He’s too much of a pussy to put it in when there’s a little blood? Did it make him queasy —“

You’re out of your chair and facing him, hands on his leather jacket. And he’s down in your chair, the wheels moving so fast that he flies back and hits the filing cabinet, scattering things everywhere, his legs coming up and then his heels slamming down rather comically. The guys howl in the background, making Gator having to inhale sharply to get it together. You’re walking away from him and down the hall to the restroom where he follows, walking right in behind you and slamming his hand on top of the metal stall door to prevent it from closing.

You try but it’s no use. Your fight is gone, the burn blurs your vision, scorching your throat, making everything hazy.

“You don’t fuckin’ do that to me in front of them, you hear me? You don’t disrespect —“

A sniffle that would’ve been quieter, it echoes in the expanse of the cold, gray walls. You pass him and find yourself clutching the sink, pleading. It’s like you’ve lost all ability to walk, to think, to process how to guard your tightly kept emotions.

And it scares Gator Tillman to death.

“Gator, please just go away?”

His boots creak and squish on the floor as he pivots and finds a space beside you, folding knuckles resting beside your hand, nearly touching, a warmth that threatens you both within its encasement.

“Is this about your outfit? The baggy sweater thing? You know the guys all stare at your big tits when you wear those other tops, right?”

You’d laugh, even be prideful, but you don’t believe a damned thing right now. Because in spite of what he says, you know Gator has a soft spot in his heart that isn’t touched by his namesake’s cruelty. You shake your head and watch him take the vape out, your eyes glistening with tears when you take in his form. He blows a line of smoke and damn near chokes when he sees the actual tears drip down your cheeks.

“Can I have a hit of that?” It’s a bold move. In part because you always roast him for it, and two, because his mouth has just been on it and he’ll get to taste you. You’ll be tasting each other.

He hands it to you, fingers brushing yours. He wants nothing more than to touch you, and he has to fight himself where he stands, feeling an electricity at the nape of his neck that shocks his flesh full of goosebumps, as you wrap your lips around the mouthpiece and puff a few times, coughing. He smiles softly, in spite of the situation.

You, you’re trying to mull over how you can taste his minty saliva beneath the nasty ass acidic fruit cloud that’s misting over your lungs. “Jesus Christ, what flavor is that?”

Taking it back, he’s all too eager to sample you, clicking his lips together and pocketing the vape. “Think it’s banana kiwi.”

There’s a comfortable beat before you both remember why you’re here. It dawns on Gator then, and you both know it. There’s this dark look that pools in the mossy oak of his gaze, drowning out all rationality. His voice cracks sharp, a tone that you’ve never heard before. “Did he hurt you? What happened last night?”

“Just drop it, okay?” You find your voice again, but Gator is already seeing red, a tunnel vision of fire and brimstone with your date from the night prior.

You aren’t ready for it, not in the slightest. Your skin prickles to life, body drenched in elation, relief, and struggling to catch up with your racing heartbeat. His pointer and middle fingers find your chin in the gentlest press, tilting. “Kiddo…”

“Doesn’t matter what he did.”

“You know it fuckin’ does.” Gator’s thumb twitches as it catches a teardrop. It tracks across your jaw and back.

You’re a little angry now, finally snapping at him like an animal that’s cornered. “Fine. You wanna know what he did, Mr. Prom King?” Gator winces at how you use his former title, clearly not impressed. You didn’t run in the same circles and he knows where this is going.

“Twerp, c’mon —“

“Just shut your mouth and listen for once, since you want to know so badly.” Your hands leave the speckled counter and you step away, swiping at your damp eyes. “He took me to dinner and waited until the waiter came to take our orders, to tell them that he wasn’t paying for mine. And you know, I just thought he was a douche. But I guess he had the smarts to wait until the waiter left again before he told me that what I ordered wasn’t appropriate, so he didn’t feel comfortable paying for it.”

Gator, still a little confused, speechless, questions, “Well, what did you get?”

“Steak and fries.” You want to scream at what Gator is not seeing.

“But most people like that kinda shit? I eat that every weekend —“

You blow out a breath that causes you to choke on a small whimper. This causes Gator to change his tune. “Wait…”

“He thought I should have the side salad for ‘someone my size.’ And after dinner was over, he made it a point to inform me that no one would go out with someone dressed in a dress that tight. How embarrassing it is.”

Gator is positively seething now, teeth clenching. And the fact that you wore this for the dickbag and he wasn’t all over you?

“I pointed out that at least half a dozen women in the restaurant were wearing more revealing outfits, that it’s not up to him or anyone else to judge. And he couldn’t wait to cut me off to let me know that he didn’t care about that. He cared about…” Your voice breaks and you laugh in wet disbelief.

“He cared about what?” Gator’s tone is at toxic levels now, nearing a whisper.

There’s no way to hide how you're openly sobbing now, snotting, lower lip quivering. “He cared about girls like me thinking guys like him wanna see someone who weighs this much, wearing something like that.”

“He needs his ass strung up on a barn door and used as target practice —“

“Don’t act like you give a shit, Tillman. I’ve seen the posters in your room, the girls you flirt with at the bars, the ones you talked to in school. Don’t be a fucking marauder with me.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even know me in highschool!” He’s offended and it pisses you off. Another fib. In this small town everyone knows everyone, or at least hears of them - that is a given.

“Oh, I knew you. I knew your crowd. And you all made it abundantly clear I was to stay out of the way. You’re just like all of the other assholes around here when it comes to how you treat women, nothing changes. Weight defines everything, even when it shouldn’t, no matter what body type a person has. It always does to people.”

“Then why the fuck did he ask you out if he was going to act like a bitch?” Gator goes straight for it with a sigh of confusion.

You laugh this time, a sound that levels Gator with diabolical unease. “He was bored and wanted someone to get him off, so he thought I’d be an easy enough, sure thing. Entitled fucking prick.”

It’s a somber silence after, your dying sniffles ceasing as you swipe your nose and attempt to collect yourself, stomach hollow and nauseated. You can’t stay here anymore, not after this. You manage to look at Gator and step with one hand on the bathroom door. “I’m going back to work. If you can not tell the other guys, I’d appreciate it.”

And as Gator is left alone in the cool, dim light bathroom, he’s already formulating an idea, going straight out the back entrance and into his squad car.

The next hour went by quicker than you thought, giving you time to push away all thoughts of your confrontation and reveals with Gator. You’ve given him more ammo to tease you with, but you’re also wondering why he’s not here? You’re in the midst of stacking new department funding files when you hear it. Your date’s voice.

“I didn’t do nothin’! You know I didn’t!”

And another, one that has your mouth going dry.

“Get your ass movin’, pencil dick.”

Your jaw is close to dropping, becoming unhinged seconds later as Gator rounds the corner in his gear, your date’s collar clutched in his fist, the vape in the other, and a very noticeable split across your date’s lip, complete with a bloodied nose. Gator stops short in front of the desk, shoving your date into its edge. He’s panting heavily, raising a brow at you, Gator amused from behind.

“Hey, twerp.” Gator grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Got a booking for ya to process!”

“I… what?” You come up with.

“You gonna tell her what you did, shitbird?”

“What’s going on?” You and Gator are going back and forth, your former date nearly ignored. This is not a coincidence. And you’re practically glued to your chair at the notion that Gator went after him in your honor.

Does this mean…?

“Caught this fucker side swiping candy at the damned Dollar Tree. What kind of prick does that when it’s a dollar?”

“I was not!” Your date is shouting.

The Dollar Tree? Wait…

You feel as if you’ve been hit with a pillow and swallowed the feathers, enjoying their light tickles that scratch at your throat. You want to laugh. By golly, you almost do. Gator whistles for another officer that takes your date down the hall. Seconds later he’s leaning on bended elbows, jacket crunching, his voice a whispered hum for you to hear, and you alone.

“Didn’t wanna forget this.” He unravels his arms and slides one into his pocket, his massive palm full of the candy you both like. He lets it spill into your dish, waiting a few beats before speaking again. “All good now.” With a snatching of his favorite piece of chocolate, he knocks his knuckles on your countertop.

“Get him processed in, yeah?”

You nod dumbly, watching him walk away. He turns around and waves with one finger, however, before he meets the other policeman and your ex-date.

“By the way, be ready at seven. I’m gonna pick you up and we’ll get supper.” He elgonates a leather clad arm, fingertips drumming on the doorway. His voice is raspy when he focuses back on you, eyes dark in a completely different way. “Wear that dress too.”

Your legs tighten together and you pinch at your cardigan, fanning yourself.

“You get your ass movin’ down that hallway, short stack!” Gator finishes, turning to you one last time and flashing a cheeky little wink.

Gator did indeed pick you up in his truck. Seven on the dot. He wore nice dark jeans and a crisp white button up, loosened to let a silver chain peek out, nestled amongst the thick chest hair, his leather jacket over him, hair slicked back, and his watch and normal boots. You wore that tight dress with a little unease, and slightly heeled boots over your sheer black tights, a few rings adorning your hands. When Gator walked you to your side of the car after walking you out of your house, you weren’t regretting anything about the purchase of the form fitting dress any longer.

When you got to dinner, Gator waited as you ordered, encouraging you to get the steak and fries that he knew you wanted. And after drinks, you shared the biggest piece of chocolate cake in the joint. Conversation flowed easy, felt good. Your old date wasn’t mentioned, but you both knew. Gator had taken you back to his place (per your request), where he’d laid you down in his bed and held your legs open until you were begging him to fuck you. And that he did.

His hand splayed atop yours, your dress around your waist, he’d taken you from behind, plaster escaping his paneled wall as a result. When that had ended, he’d stripped you free of everything, and walked you to his mirror, chin on your shoulder, fingers in your cunt. Showing you what he liked about your body, but telling you that it doesn’t matter what anyone but you thinks. And if anyone thinks differently, he’d put them all away. Impractical, but enough to cause you to cream his thick digits and soak his floor.

The next day, you’d worn your most low cut top with pride, settling at your desk to another empty candy dish. When you look up, Gator is smiling in your direction, that damned vape in one hand, candy wrapper in the other.

We all need someone to help us feel good about ourselves sometimes.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings With A Chubby Partner

Yes I’m projecting. Shush. It’s hard to lose weight when you have heart problems lemme have this

Warnings: 16+ There isn’t any sex, but there will be sexual themes. Also talks about fat phobia, bullying and such. Along with a small bit of food struggles and topics of eating problems

Writing Comission’s Open

William ‘Bill’

There is just something so nice about it. He himself is a, rather, thin and lanky man. The job quite literally sucks the life out of you. So you are always such a massive comfort to him. How you are able to help him stay so warm, and how he can just wrap his arms around you. Let his bones rest, after a long day, and embrace you. To be able to share a big meal with you, and have it adored. Since being a curse breaker is so draining, it’s a given that comfort food is left and right. So there’s something so kind in sharing it with someone, instead of eating alone. There is also something so thrilling about it all. Whenever the full moon comes around, and he has handfuls to enjoy. To have so much flesh and skin to bite and claw at. Make sure everyone’s knows who you belong to. He likes it, he won’t lie. Especially the morning cuddles. Letting his head rest on your soft chest, and holding you close. Fingers tracing the scars he’s left behind. It’s soothing, to the wolf in ginger clothing

Charlie

Oh he loves himself someone with meat on their bones. He himself has some too. Muscle is tense when flexed. When it’s not? SQUISH. So he damn well knows that just because someone’s got some extra squish, it doesn’t mean they aren’t able to still kick your ass. Oh he loves himself a partner that’s got meat on the bone. Mans is always behind you, with his hands on your stomach. Playful squishes. Never to insult. Just always very all mine. Not to mention a good excuse to show off his cooking skills. You gotta be creative when always camping. Finally someone to enjoy the meat he always endlessly has. That’s something he loves. Sharing food. Especially meat. Oh you bet your ass there’s alot of meat in your future. Along with aggressive claiming, and not being just a man who watches dragons breed. He’s gotta claim his own mate, and enjoy all that they can give. What can he say? He’s about as much dragon as he was Weasley. He likes em big, warm, and dangerous. The fact you thought it was smart to date him? Oh yeah. You are dangerous alright.

Percy

He’s a bit of a mama’s boy, so having a partner on the softer side certainly isn’t the worse. Not to mention there is a strange pride to it all. That his job is high paying enough to never have to worry about food. Every Weasley has money paranoia. Even the twins, despite their beautiful jobs. There is extreme comfort in knowing neither of you need to worry. That you can be on the softer side. It helps him sleep at night. To hold you close, see your sleeping face, and hug you. Feel how warm and soft you are. To know he is able to provide enough that you didn’t have to become dangerously thin. It’s a sign of pride, really. To know he can support his family. Make sure all he cares about is happy, and safe.

Fred

Twins, of the Wizard kind, share it all. Such as the enjoyment of someone soft. Fred sure does like to show you off, in a sense. To brag about how pretty you are, and how much you joy you bring. He’s similar to Charlie, in a sense it’s hard for him to not keep his hands on you. He just loves the security of it. The feeling of love. It’s soothing to him. To just hug you, and you hug back, promising to never let go. How you give him this comforting weight, as you cuddle. It helps ground him. Brings him back to earth again. His big, sweet, security blanket. He also adores cooking for you. He picked it up from Molly. He was the one who cooks, and George is the one who bakes. Nothing screams home more than cooking for someone. Expect lots of it from him. No hungry mouths in his house!

George

Very similar to his twin. You provide him a security, and comfort. But, they don’t always share everything. Especially not after the war. He can understand the insecurity. Missing a ear isn’t exactly hard to miss, especially since the spell that took it is famous for leaving deep gashes. It can be nauseous. Having people stare at you, for only doing so much as existing. He can tell the difference in the looks. He knows. And he knows he can hold onto you close, and find support. Along with someone who would enjoy his baking skills. Someone to share his love again. It’s hard to live with out a twin, but having you in the kitchen with him lightens the load by a lot. Like he never left. Your sweet teddy bear. His favorite co-baker

Ron

What can he say? He likes someone who likes to eat. When you grow up with food being scarce, you develop some food paranoia. Can you blame him? He is rather self conscious about it. Always teased for eating so much. You understand him though, and he understands you. You learn to appreciate food, when it can be hard to get any. Never fear about your eating habits around him. He’s more than happy to share a big meal with you. There’s a comfort in talking over tea with someone. To snack and snuggle after a long day. He gets it. Life is to short to worry about people’s views. Never know when you can’t even get food. Find pleasure in the little things

Ginny

As a Quidditch star, she definitely has to eat alot to fill in her calories. Like a lot a lot. So having someone who can keep up? She finds it fun. She also damn well knows that a little extra padding on the hips is not a death sentence, or even remotely means you are unfit. She sees so many different types of athletes, and grew up with family who all played Quidditch. She knows where muscle and fat goes. Like how Bill needs to keep up his calories for his job, why Charlie had more muscle in his legs while the twins have it in their arms. She knows how the body works a little better than most. So she damn well knows her athletic butt adores your squishy one. To come home, shower, and just slam her face into your stomach. Groaning about her aching muscles, as she snuggles into you. Able to enjoy how soft you are, and the emotional support it gives her. You are just perfect in her big brown eyes.

[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.

[strwbnnie]

chileee what is up with me & angst 😭 I was able to salvage this from my notes so I thought why not post it lol probably my first and last aot piece cause idk how to write them fr 😭 & sorry to the Reiner loves cause I wrote him so mean 😭

cw: fat shaming, fat phobia, best friend Eren, ex-boyfriend Reiner, mention of cheating, verbal abuse, mention of k!lling, friends to lovers, one sided pining, sorry if I missed anything!

Word count is undetermined but it’s not that long.

❀

Eren hasn’t said a word to you since you arrived at his apartment, puffy eyed and soaking wet from the rain, just stepped out of the way and allowed you to walk in. 

You didn’t blame him, it’d been quite a while since the two of you had last spoken. Two or three weeks maybe, you couldn’t remember. It was difficult keeping track of time when your mind was slowly but surely shutting down. Either way it made you feel like shit. 

You wanted to to sit and talk to him but your first priority was getting out of those wet clothes. You went straight to his bedroom, closing yourself in the en-suite.

You let the shower run for a little bit, fogging up the room and hopefully drowning out your sorrow as you sit on the covered toilet, aimlessly scrolling. You checked the notifications on your phone, tapping around until you heard your ex-boyfriend’s voice projecting from the speakers. 

“Baby, just come back home. Please, let’s just talk about it.” “Hear me out, Y/N. I’m sorry okay, just come back.”

The way he was pleading you’d think he actually gave a damn about you.

“Come on Y/N,” There’s a short pause and a deep sigh. You know it’s coming. You hear the change in his tone, that false compassion and empathy has withered away. “Let’s face it, Y/N. Nobody’s gonna want you but me. Nobody’s into fat bitches. You’re lucky your face is cute. Nothing but a pretty face and a hole to fuck. Or should I say holes? I’m sure a slut like you takes it up the ass too-.”

Globs of hot tears ran down your face, budding at your chin and pooling on the screen of your phone. You deleted the nasty voice message Reiner left, only thirteen seconds into the minute and twelve second voice message, his harsh words breaking your heart all over again. 

The wound was still fresh and he did nothing but cut you deeper. Why was he like that???

Blocking his number so you wouldn’t receive anymore, you were ready to be done with this shit. Ready to heal from Reiner and all the bullshit he‘s put you through.

After your eyes are cried out and your skin is parched from the piping hot water, you finally exit. 

You didn’t leave with anything except your purse, phone and the clothes on your back, so you’re more than grateful to see a white tshirt and a towel on Eren’s bed waiting for you. The shirt was a little tight on your arms and the hem ended right at the cusp of your butt but it was better than nothing. 

The California King in his bedroom looked freshly made, plush and inviting, but you’d spent far too many nights alone in an empty bed while your so-called partner occupied another. You should’ve known that’s how it’d be when you decided to get yourself into a domesticated situationship with a narcissistic cheater.

You opted for the couch, where Eren was also sitting. He’s munching on a bowl of cereal watching some crime documentary. The atmosphere is dull, but it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be.

“Hey!”

He didn’t bother feigning the same excitement, sending nothing but a head nod you’re way but you’re still grateful to get something out of him.

Maybe he was annoyed, which he had every right to be. It was late as hell, around three in the morning, and you honestly felt a little bad. Showing up out of the blue and forcing him to share his space. 

“I really appreciate you letting me stay here, there were no rooms available anywhere.”

He ignored you, you figured he would. He hasn’t said much since you’ve been there. He’s treating you as if you’re a stranger, almost.

Unfortunately the documentary has lost all of his interest, he figured out the wife was the killer all along and there’s no reason to keep watching. 

Now he’s stretching out, manspreading if you will, with his legs cocked open. He’s sporting that same bored look, except now he’s on his phone watching TikTok’s with his volume obnoxiously loud.

Honestly, he didn’t even touch this app unless he was watching the shit ton of videos you sent him at some manic hour of the night. But right now he needed something to distract him. To distract him from everything only you made him feel.

“I get paid Friday, I can send you something once it’s deposited, my money lookin kinda funny right now so...” 

You’d spent close to your last getting an Uber to Eren’s. You weren’t sure why you even decided to come to Eren’s. Your parents lived in the same city and they probably would’ve been more welcoming than he was being right about now. 

“When have I ever asked you to pay me back for anything y/n?” 

His tone isn’t cold or mean, but indifferent. Like he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t. 

The tension is almost tangible, thick and suffocating.

“I know, but-“ You cut yourself off, stumbling over your words. Your throat is scratchy and your mouth dry. You didn’t know exactly what to say to mend things between you and your bestfriend. 

You hoped to pick up the pieces. Pickup where you left off like the two of y’all always did. But this here just showed how dumb and deluded you really were.

“I’m sorry…you were right.” You feel ashamed. Embarrassed even.

You can feel him staring at you, so you keep your eyes glued to your hands in your lap, twirling your thumbs in hopes to make amends. 

“What are you talking about, y/n?” You can feel his gaze boring into you.

“About Reiner…and every-everything else really. We not getting back together, forreal this time, I can’t.”

He was right about everything. Reiner was an immature asshole. You trusted his smooth talking, pretty smile and it backfired horrendously. 

Reiner was verbally abusive, insecure and mean, and he projected it without a care. Tore you down every chance he got, belittling you until you were almost an empty shell of your former self. 

On top of that, he was insensitive as hell, bullied you worse than any of those middle and high school nobodies you no longer remembered.

He’d probably use his last breath to lie, just because. If you were blind he’d tell you the sun was blue and the sky was yellow, for no reason whatsoever other than to be a dick. 

All of this Eren warned you about, but you just had to go and see for yourself. You fell for the first boy to show interest in you. The first to give you attention and affection. The first one who wasn’t looking to ‘try it out’ with a fat girl or looked at you like some pity case. 

So you thought. 

“You’ve said that before.”

“I know! But I mean it this time, and I’m so sorry for ghosting you and lying a-and putting him first before our friendship cause..I know you wouldn’t do that to me and I’m such an awful person-.”

Your sniffles turned into sobs, deep sobs that shook your entire body against his when he finally went against his stubborn ways and pulled you into a hug. 

You sound sincere, but Eren doesn’t know if he believes you. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to him about getting back with Reiner.

He wanted to tell you off. Scold you and yell at you for abandoning him. For giving him your ass to kiss cus you thought you were in love, only to come crawling back asking him to pick up the fucking pieces, again.

“I should’ve listened to you.”

Words muffled into his chest but he heard you. 

“You should’ve.” He doesn’t mean to sound condescending but it’s true. “I don’t like seeing you cry.” 

His voice startled you a little bit, velvety and deep, chest rumbling as he still had you pressed up against his frame. The aloof facade cracking with each sob. 

“I’ll handle it.”

He’d handle it. Handle him. 

His arms embraced you tighter. One holding you against him while the other ran down your back, over your thigh then back up again as he allowed you to bawl your eyes out.

“I hate when you talk like that Ren,” You leaned back to look at him. “You know I don’t like unnecessary viole-.” 

He grabs your face mid sentence, squishing your cheeks together, your lips round and pouty as you stared back at him. 

“How’s it unnecessary when my princess is sitting here with tears running down her pretty ass face?”

It slipped but he made no attempt to correct it.

His princess. He’d always called you a princess, especially when y’all were younger. He found it very intriguing how spoiled you were, especially by the men in your life. Dad, uncles, even Eren himself. 

He remembers saving up his little paychecks from working part time to spoil you as well, buying you little trinkets and gifts you probably didn’t even have anymore. 

Nothing was unnecessary when it came to his princess. He’d die for you. Kill for you, even. You were the light of his dim life. Why wouldn’t you just realize it?

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I've been reading some of your homestuck essays, I think they're really good! I would like to know what you think about post-retcon homestuck and the interactions between reader and author throughout homestucks publishing. I was not in the fandom at the time of it being published, but I find this to be a very interesting aspect of the comic!

I was only on the fringes of the fandom at the time, but even that was enough to recognize that the fandom was absolutely awful. Every bad story you've heard about the Steven Universe, Voltron, and Undertale fandoms has its roots in the Homestuck fandom.

Pretty much as soon as the webcomic got popular on Tumblr, Hussie was put under intense scrutiny for basically every decision they ever made ever. I'm not going to say that Hussie was a perfect individual who never did anything wrong, because Hussie is a human being and that's how it works, but it's basically impossible to overstate how much the fandom tried to make an enemy out of Hussie.

The fandom was convinced that Hussie was their personal LE, and that attitude continues to this day - like, for an easy example of the fandom harassing Hussie for Literally Anything, when he stated that all trolls were bi/pan, to the point where they didn't have specific words for single-gender attraction, comparing it to a "more exacting preference" like somebody who only dates fat people - but that even within that framework, Kanaya was undoubtedly a lesbian character - people insisted Hussie was being homophobic. Fucking homophobic! For confirming all trolls are bi/pan, except Kanaya, who's a lesbian!

Other examples include: calling Hussie homophobic for John saying he wasn't a homosexual and Karkat literally not knowing what a homosexual was, because again, all trolls are bi/pan. Calling Hussie racist for making the kids aracial but accidentally leaving references to Dave having pale/pink skin in (because Hussie is a biased human person who can't be perfect and who did try to be more inclusive as the comic went on). Deciding that the dancestors served no purpose except for Hussie to be mean to their audience. Like there are valid criticisms to be made of Homestuck, but anything that was valid, nuanced, or thoughtful was drowned under a deluge of incoherent accusations of every -ism and -phobia that the fandom could possibly muster, the fandom as a whole racing to see who could paint Hussie as the biggest monster, even as they were harassing them to make more Homestuck.

Not to mention this was the era of rampant, unchecked ship wars and fandom misogyny. Not that fandom misogyny has gone away, mind you, but it's slightly more in check now. This was the era of fandom where it was normal to be sent death threats for shipping the "wrong" ship, and fandom ship wars were often encouraged by media of the time (love triangles were HOT - think zutara vs. kataang, team jacob/team edward, danny fenton/sam manson vs. danny fenton/valerie grey) because it drove up engagement. Homestuck was not really interested in shipping wars and love triangles - while many characters had circuitous routes and false starts, many were also pretty clearly set up to have specific endgame ships. But the fandom wasn't trained to behave that way, and the troll quadrants + canonical bi/pan trolls + active role of romance in the story meant that the ship wars were brutal - and also, Hussie was getting harassed every step of the way for not making peoples' favorite ships canon, a major part of a larger trend of people constantly ragging on Hussie for things not going the way they wanted plot-wise, to the point where Hussie had to comment on it constantly on his Formspring.

And don't think I forgot about the fandom misogyny! Here's a hot take for the class: Vriska is literally just Girl Zuko. She's ostensibly a noble from an imperialistic, warmongering, fascist society with an abusive parent who raised her with strict expectations, who thinks she has to act much more evil and more tough than she feels in order to earn the approval of her parent/society, and who secretly has misgivings and feels really bad about it and was set up for a redemption arc.

And people HATED Vriska. Vriscourse was so bad that many Homestuck fan spaces banned talking about Vriska at ALL, because just the mere mention of her name would spark massive, endless flame wars as people argued whether or not she deserved her little redemption arc (spoilers: yes, it turns out death is cheap in Homestuck and characters changing, growing, and becoming better is a huge part of the story) or whether or not she was justified in doing the things she did. Genuinely, I think a huge part of this intense hatred and anger was just misogyny. God forbid women have Zuko's character arc.

It was also part of two other large trends in the fandom - the first was that, despite finding every possible reason to call Hussie -ist and -phobic they could, the fandom itself was, ummm... "of its time." For example, the original March Eridan stuff was pretty clearly meant to be funny because, look, man in a dress! Isn't it sooo funny when Eridan wears a dress? (No hate to the artist, this was a long time ago and I'm sure they're a different person now.) The fandom was also constantly goading Hussie on WRT which characters were fat, and while we can argue about whether Hussie is fatphobic because none of the characters are canonically drawn to be fat, I'm going to go to bat for them on this: people treat the Fat Vriska jokes as though Hussie is the creepy weirdo exclusively, but the fandom was goading them on and thought that shit was hilarious, because that was what early internet fandom was like a lot of the time - at the same time as it harassed and decried creators for being problematic, it would turn around and delight in shitting on women, neurodivergent people, POC, and fat people, and Homestuck was rampant with it.

The second trend the Vriscourse was a part of was one that also hasn't fully gone away, but it's better now - wilful ignorance of the actual comic's contents. I'm not talking about the usual fandom fare of noncanon ships or "x character is trans/autistic/etc. even though I know there's no canon basis," which is all pretty damn harmless, but I mean like, memes and fanon would override canon and you would be outright harassed for not playing along. There are STILL places to this day that will call you an actual fascist, genocide liker, evil and irredeemable, etc. if you try to stick up for Eridan, even though Eridan is actually the LEAST casteist highblood and his entire character arc is about how his shitty fascist society makes him deeply anxious and unhappy. Similarly, you can/definitely would be be harassed for saying you don't like March Eridan and/or think it's OOC (it is), and I have nothing but sympathy for Gamzee and Equius fans, who also get it really bad.

The most vocal parts of the fandom, if not the majority, were people who were generally uninterested in engaging with Homestuck on Homestuck's terms, instead dead set on making up a version of it in their head and harassing people who disagreed, including Hussie. Echoes of that persist to this day - Equius, Gamzee, and Eridan get it bad, but practically none of the trolls have fandom interpretations that actually line up with who they are - Kanaya is actually just Eridan's bully (and did nothing to help Tavros after she caught Vriska kissing him), but people portray her as Nice Team Mom. Feferi is a casteist hypocrite who loves classism and calling people the r-slur, but people portray her as bubbly equality lady. So on and so forth. Like, damn, I barely participate in fandom and I'm out here meeting people who think Karkat ACTUALLY hates his friends like he says he does.

And then, of course, these people went and harassed Hussie because actual Homestuck did not match up with the Homestuck that existed only in their own heads.

On top of all the fandom harassment, Hussie was also facing ballooning scope. Most of Homestuck was a single dude drawing, writing, and animating it, and they would update every two or three days, sometimes less. So from the get-go, Homestuck was an INSANE project that demanded an insane amount of work and time from Hussie, and as it went on, it only got worse - and fandom expectations only got bigger. Suddenly, Hussie had to be in charge of merchandise, in charge of vetting, hiring, directing, and paying third-party artists, planning animations months if not years in advance, creating entire sections of the comic that had GAMEPLAY, directing ACTUAL GAMES, etc. ... there's an argument to be made that Hussie should not have taken on a workload they couldn't manage, but at the same time, the fandom certainly wasn't telling them to slow down. If anything, they harassed Hussie for every update, and were furious when hiatuses needed to happen to plan and execute some of the bigger moments later in the comic.

There's a Sarah Z video out there on the creation of the Homestuck game, which I think is OK if you take into account that Sarah kind of has fandom brain and is a little biased against Hussie (and I guess Hussie did send a spurious legal threat which is pretty funny but, y'know, understandable that Sarah would be peeved), where it's really clear that Hussie was not ready for the kind of responsibility, time, and effort needed to manage a whole-ass video game.

So by the time Game Over and the Retcon roll around, you basically have to imagine that Hussie has so many irons in the fire that the furnace is about to pop like a balloon, and the people they were making the damn things for in the first place have been relentlessly harassing them for YEARS, and weren't even that interested in engaging with the actual story in the first place. I'd say the majority of the fandom to this day STILL does not understand Eridan - how do you think they would've taken his redemption arc, and especially the fact that he was set up to date Karkat and Roxy? Given the pattern of their behavior up to that point... they'd probably harass Hussie and call them homophobic.

This is why I genuinely cannot blame Hussie for turning on the fandom and truncating their story. Vriska got upgraded to main character and had her character development reset because fuck you, fandom, you couldn't understand her redemption arc in the first place so now you don't get one. DaveKat got (kind of) made canon but as a weird throuple with the Mayor because fuck you, fandom, you didn't appreciate any of the actual gay ships that were set up so now you're stuck with brutally OOC DaveKatMayor. Karkat and Jake have their plot threads left hanging because fuck you, fandom, you never even noticed all the prophecies and symbolism and character arcs because you were all too obsessed with screaming at women and took the dancestors as a personal insult, so now the guy who's supposed to defeat LE and the guy who's supposed to bring equality and forgiveness to all bloodlines don't even get to participate in any of the important boss battles.

People call Hussie a troll, and they really aren't. If you read their old Formspring, they're clearly deeply fucking passionate about the art of storytelling, and switch between bafflement, mild indignation, and playing along when people ask them stupid questions. But back then, they were always very serious and genuine when they answered questions asked in good faith, and I'm being 100% genuine when I say that I've learned about how to tell stories better by reading Hussie's Formspring. Over time, however, those stupid questions became more common, and often morphed into outright harassment, and in response to that, Hussie's answers became more humorous and facetious, and the fandom - who was already trying to find ANY reason to hate Hussie - started to paint Hussie as an unreliable trickster and liar who got their jollies by shitting on the fandom.

Honestly, in doing so, the fandom was what turned Hussie into exactly that. Again, I'm not saying Hussie was a perfect baby who did nothing wrong - there's a lot of stuff to critique and scrutinize about their writing, their biases, and what topics they found appropriate to joke about. However, I AM saying that they were also just a human fucking being who was trying to write a good story, who was harassed at every turn, mostly for things that actually weren't problematic at all, whose words and actions were always taken in the absolute worst possible faith, and that the fandom is not fucking faultless, and if there's anyone that I'm mad at for how bad Homestuck ended, it's the fans.

That's my hottest Homestuck take.

[etubrutebae]

I think you should absolutely rant about Marble Hornets characters being watered down for shipping actually 👍

Okay so I'm gonna start with Jay, because my boy had the worst mischaracterization since Twink Masky (that's a different can of worms that I will be going into later).

Now, obviously, Jay is flawed, he makes bad decisions, and posting someone's medical documentation online is a BAD IDEA‼️‼️but that doesn't make him stupid. He's obviously not stupid, he's a flawed character, but the problem with how he's watered down is that they make him stupid, and they twink him out as well, they make him seem like this helpless pissbaby that needs Tim or Brian or Alex to save him when he lasted YEARS without them, and on the topic of Tim, they make him out to seem like this heartless bastard with nothing to offer but scatching remarks.

Tim is a complex, dynamic character, but he's interpretated as this awful guy, or the lord Himself, there's no in-between where we recognize that he's, at baseline, A Normal Guy, does he have issues? Yes! Do they make him evil and a moral lost cause? No! They don't, because he's a dynamic character with growth, and him and Jay are pushed in the the Grumpy x Sunshine box like Jay is anywhere NEAR sunshine, they're both struggling, they're both leaning on each other, and hot take, extreme paranoia on both ends doesn't scream Grumpy x Sunshine to me, and onto Alex, he's not the evil guy people think he is, again, he's flawed, everyone in Marble Hornets is flawed, that's what makes their characters so interesting! Alex was going fucking THROUGH IT, he was doing what he thought was right, he was trying to help, he was desperate, he's not this crazed murderer, he cared about his friends so much that he died for them, that doesn't scream horrible person to me, and not to mention, he was doing his fucking best even before Slenderman, he loved his friends, he loved his family, his girlfriend, and one by one, he lost them all, he lost everyone after trying to save them, even Brian, as Ray of Sunshine as hes treated (which isn't wrong, he's absolutely full of friendliness and kindness) is deeply flawed, and as much as we all love him, stalking people is pretty fucked up, and I'm sorry, but if you want uwu twinks in your media, read Boyfriends on webtoon and leave grown men ALONE

And I do think alot of the twinkifying comes from fat phobia (internalized or not), but that's a conversation for another day

[asapphiccrow]

Evanescence Masterlist

Evanescence, the quality of something being fleeting or vanishing quickly

Summary: She just wanted to join her older sister at Hogwarts and move on with her life. Who knew along the way she would uncover the secrets her deceased mother tried to keep hidden. While also finding family and love that would last life times.

Warnings: Cursing, Mention of murder, Addiction, Self harm, fluff, angst, death, a lot of non cannon events, war, mentions of readers hair color and texture, Mention of readers body type, bullying, fat phobia

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Plus size!Slytherin!Reader, Slytherin gang x platonic!Reader

Authors note: I have never read the books so this will be going off the movies. I will be changing some things. Bellatrix is not Mattheos mother in this. Im following the headcanon that Pandora lovegood is black, so Luna is mixed. I don't think her race will be mentioned but I'ma just say that. No race mentioned for reader.

No y/n, reader is referred to as Bea. I changed first years to being 12, and will put the age of the characters before the chapter bc ages will change.

On hiatus

Introduction chapter:

Slytherin or Ravenclaw?

Chapter 1:

Unicorn Blood

Chapter 2:

Familiarity of dreams

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: What You Deserve

Description: Feeling undeserving of luke's attention and affection.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: low self-esteem, negative self-talk, internalized fat phobia

A/N: I wrote this back when I was super insecure about my weight (i.e. this is how i felt about every guy i dated). but just saying i lowkey hate the insecure plus-sized reader trope and want to write better plus-size reader fics in the future, but this is all i have to repost for now!

You were ten when you sprained your ankle on the playground at school and wound up at the doctor’s office with your mom. The doctor was nice and distracted you from the pain in your ankle with some funny jokes. He even let you listen to your own heartbeat with his stethoscope. 

But at the end of the visit, once you had a splint on your ankle, he turned to your mom and mentioned the term overweight.  

“She’s on the high end of her age’s weight class,” he said matter-of-factly. And maybe it was just a simple matter of fact. You’d never thought much about your weight before that day. You were happy. You loved to play- especially outside. Your favorite game was capture the flag, but it didn’t matter. You were active and healthy. 

Your mom listened to his advice intently, because he was the professional after all. Who was she to question his word on your health? And when you get home you were immediately placed on what she calls a diet. 

“That means no more ice cream after dinner, and we’re going to cut back on the popcorn, too.”

And maybe the doctor was right, you started to think, as you took a long look at yourself in the full length mirror behind the bathroom door that very same night. You pinched the skin protruding from your stomach and watched as the fat around your thighs jiggled. Maybe you were too big, too fat. You thought of your friends at school and for the first time, (but certainly not the last), you found yourself wondering, why don’t I look like them?

“The diet will help,” your mom told you reassuringly.   

Except it doesn’t. Instead, you wound up gaining more weight, this time at a rapid pace, because you’ve found that when Mom says you can’t have ice cream after dinner, you wind up sneaking into the kitchen after she’s gone to bed and eating it anyway. But you don’t stop there. You eat some of the watermelon that’s left in the fridge, too, and some crackers from the cupboard. Just enough from each box so that she doesn’t notice, but enough altogether, that you go to bed with a full, aching stomach. 

This becomes a pretty standard part of your nightly routine until your mom caught you digging through the pantry one night, while she had come downstairs quietly for a glass of water.  

The look on her face was shock, followed quickly by disgust. You felt embarrassed and ashamed and humiliated. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been doing this,” then, “it’s no wonder you’re gaining all that weight.”

…

You’ve always had a difficult time loving yourself, you’ve always looked in the mirror and not necessarily liked what looked back at you. Sure, there were days where you thought to yourself, I look pretty today. But in the back of your mind there was always that voice that would add, for a fat person. 

When you’re in your twenties, you finally break the habitual pattern of binge eating that you’d been doing since you were a kid. As you ticked off the number of days it had been since a binge, you sighed. You really would have thought that by stopping consistently overindulging, you’d lose the weight. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, your body has plateaued. No more dramatic gains or losses- it just is. The weight, for the most part, stayed on.  

By your thirties, you’d come to an understanding, a blind acceptance, with your body. You didn’t always like it, but you appreciated it. Neutrality, your therapist had encouraged. And that was good enough. 

Regardless, you had other things going for you besides your looks and your weight. You had a great job and infinite career goals to focus on. Not everything had to be about being beautiful and desirable, you learned.  

…

Your favorite thing about being part of the BAU were your coworkers. You never expected how close you’d get to them, but before you knew it, they felt more like your family than anything else. Something about constantly facing life-threatening situations with one another created an everlasting bond encased in mutual trust. 

You and the rest of the team had a rare evening off, which normally, you’d spend waiting skeptically by your phone, convinced that you’d get called in for a case any minute. But not tonight, Emily had promised. All cases were on hold until the morning. You were sitting at home, contemplating what to do with your precious time when the text came through.  

It was Tara messaging the group chat, asking if anyone was up for drinks and a night out. It didn’t take long before Luke’s name came flashing across your screen next. It was impossible to ignore the butterflies fluttering rampantly in your stomach as you read the words that he’s typed. 

I’m in, he said simply.  

Luke was the newest member to have joined the team. Just months prior, he transferred to the BAU from the Fugitive Task Force. As soon as Emily brought him into the conference room, you knew all bets were off. He was tall and handsome, with a clean cut, thick beard and dark skin. While he was given personalized introductions, you had noticed his bicep flexing as he extended his arm out to shake everyone’s hands. When he was introduced to you, his large hand engulfing yours and his dark eyes scanned the length of you, and you knew instantly that Luke Alvez was a catch.  

It was pointless and childish and arbitrary, and you knew it. But you couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard you tried- no matter how many times you told yourself he’d never be into a girl like you. A fat girl like you, the voice in your head said. You tried to challenge that voice- fought back and argued with it occasionally just like your therapist had encouraged, but it still found ways of insisting that you weren’t worthy of attention or affection from someone like Luke. 

So, before your insecurities could convince you to decline Tara’s invite that night, you typed back a quick, I’m in, too. 

…

It turned out most of the team decided to join your night out. And it was fun, or it would have been, if not for the critic in your head being abnormally loud.  

Look how skinny JJ looks in that top- you could never pull that off. 

Don’t eat the nachos, they’ll think you’re fat. 

Eat the nachos, because if you don’t, they’ll know that you know you’re fat. 

As always, it was exhausting and all consuming- a never ending battle in your own mind. And while you knew your team didn’t give a shit if you ate the damn nachos or not, you couldn’t stop obsessing over it.  

You tried your best to enjoy yourself- to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, but it took effort. 

Tara had picked the spot, it was a small pub that serves drinks and food. There was music, but not so loud that you couldn’t hear each other talk. You sipped your vodka lemonade, the straw pinched between your thumb and pointer finger, and watched as Emily and JJ were taking on Rossi and Matt in a game of pool.  

Across from you sat Tara and Spencer. They were having an in depth conversation about Jean Piaget, when suddenly, Luke slid into the empty booth seat beside you. Your senses were instantly overwhelmed momentarily by his cologne, strong but not overpowering. His arm brushed yours, the warmth from his skin sending an electrical current through your entire body. You tensed up, if not just from the shock of it all. But as soon as you let your guard down, the voice in your head crept back in. He can feel how fat your arm is- pull away. So you did. 

If he noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead he smiled, his white teeth on full display. “Having fun?” he asked. 

You took another sip of your lemonade and nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a night away from..” your voice trailed off as you thought of the word. 

“Crime? Murder?” Luke smirked. “Serial killers?”

You chuckled, “How about all of the above?”

Luke nodded. “They say crime never sleeps, but we finally will tonight.” He set his drink down and scratched his beard in contemplation. “I’m thinking at least eight hours tonight.”

“Eight hours?” you gawked, “You’re living large!”

Luke laughed. There was a brief pause in the chatter, and you took another sip of your drink awkwardly. You were about to make a joke about the competitive pool game going on in front of you between Rossi and JJ, when Luke leaned over and said quietly, “You look really nice tonight.”

You faltered, you didn't know how to answer, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at Luke’s gaze, because you weren’t sure you could handle it. And while you knew that you should say thank you, you only curled into yourself as if what Luke said was just a snide, nasty remark. Compliments like that were so foreign to you and you felt like you didn’t deserve them, so you had a hard time believing that what Luke had to say was actually genuine. You knew he wasn’t the type of person to ever poke fun at another, but wasn’t that what made the most sense? He certainly wasn’t hitting on you- so maybe it was a pity remark, or just a way to fill the awkward silence. 

You ended up just offering him a curt smile, pretending that you didn’t see the way his face fell. 

…

You were happy most of the time. Not as carefree as some on the team, but still. You joked with Tara and Emily and had meaningful conversations with Spencer. You asked Dave about his weekends and listened with intent as Matt told you stories about his infinite amount of kids.  

But then there were days where you’re nowhere near that feeling. 

There were bad days. And when they came, they were always so sudden and unexpected, it almost took your breath away. 

You were away on a case with the team in Colorado Springs when you had your first really bad day in a long time.  

The case, for the most part, kept you busy, and for a while you were able to ward off the negative thoughts. Instead of fixating on how worthless you felt, you thought about the four victims that had gone missing in the area, you thought of the Unsub and ways your team could find them. You thought about ME reports and patterns in each abduction, it was enough of a puzzle that you were able to stay occupied.  

But when you were back at the hotel, the rest of your team in their own rooms, and left to your own thoughts, that’s when the quiet consumed you.  

As a child, you learned that the one thing-the only thing- that helped when you were feeling this overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread, was to binge. It helped you stuff the negative thoughts so deep down within yourself, that for at least a little while, you were numb to all the pain. 

You knew you shouldn’t- you hadn’t in so long. But just this one time would be okay, right? Only this once, just to feel a little better, and then you wouldn’t do it again. 

The battle inside your own head raged on. You took deep breaths, you tried to journal what you were feeling, but the feeling didn't subside. Only when there was a knock at your door, and you were forced to pull yourself back to reality, did the argument get placed on the backburner. You blinked back tears that you didn’t even realize were there before hastily making your way to the hotel door. 

“J-just a minute,” you tried to make your voice sound normal, like the debate going on inside your mind about what you were about to do would be obvious to whoever was at the door. You quickly wiped your cheeks and brushed your wrinkled shirt off before hoisting it open. 

“Hi,” you managed to smile as you opened the door. 

Luke was on the other side, to your surprise, holding two brown paper bags and a couple of bottled drinks. 

“Hey,” Luke answered, his eyes lingering on your face for a brief moment. You wondered if he could tell you’d been crying. 

“What’s up?” you drawled, as if to politely ask, why the hell are you knocking at my door at eleven pm?

“Everyone else was asleep and I was hungry-” he held up the bag of what was apparently food and shrugged. “Except, I bought way too much, I’ll never eat it all. Are you hungry?”

You gave him a confused look. “I-”

“It’s just burgers, some chicken and some fries, nothing fancy- but I didn’t want to eat alone and I saw your light on..”

You sighed, but then stepped to the side, a gesture for him to come in. Luke gave you a relieved look before entering your room. He headed to the bed, which was the only place to sit. 

“Do you mind?” he asked, motioning towards the mattress. 

You shook your head, “No, go for it.”

You closed the door behind him and joined Luke, barely noticing that the dread in your stomach from earlier had been replaced by a light, fluttering sensation. 

As Luke began unloading the greasy food from the bag, you hesitated. Was this a trick? Was he secretly trying to see how much food you could put away? Was he going to go back and tell the team how much you’d eaten?  

Luke picked up on your apprehension. 

“Is everything okay?”

You don’t answer quickly enough before he asked, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Goddamn these intuitive profilers. 

“Nothing,” you said.  But somehow, Luke heard the lie. 

“I know I’m the new guy,” he said, “and it’s probably gonna take some time before you trust me, I know that. But I want you to know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah.. it-it’s nothing,” you managed to say, because you couldn’t talk. Not about this and not yet. Maybe not ever. 

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “Sometimes, it’s tough being the new guy. I can see how close you guys all are and I just want to be a part of that eventually, you know?” His eyes bore into your own and you caught a glimpse of the sincerity behind his words, and that was when you started to feel guilty for ever thinking he was here to make fun of you. Luke was here for a friend, for comfort of his own.  

You sat on the bed next to Luke and took a fry from the basket. “You are part of it.” You assured him. “Everyone here adores you.”

Me included, is what you didn’t say. 

“You wouldn’t be included in our group chat if we didn’t.”

That made Luke smile, his dimple evident in his cheek.  

He stayed in your room for a while, the two of you laughing and talking throughout the night. You never realized how much you didn’t know about Luke.  Like that he had a dog, for example, or that he grew up in Arizona and moved around a lot once he joined the military. He kept you laughing, his jokes and sarcasm thrown intermittently through his speech.  

You shared the chicken and fries with him, not even feeling self conscious when you reached for more to put on your plate. You were too wrapped up in whatever story Luke was telling and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about the things that interested him, to be insecure. 

Luke took the last drink of his bottled water before sighing. “I suppose I should head back to my room, and try to get a little sleep.” He lifted his arm and looked at the watch on his wrist. “I’m definitely not getting my eight hours tonight,” he laughed. 

You nodded in agreement, the two of you standing up in sync, and you walked Luke to the door. 

Luke stepped into the hallway before turning to face you. “Thanks for the company,” he said.

You smiled, “Thanks for the food.”

There was a brief, awkward silence, where neither one of you knew what to do next. But then, it happened quickly. One minute, you were studying the way Luke’s warm, brown eyes were trained on you, and then, before you could predict what would happen next, he stepped forward, one hand planting itself firmly on your hip and the other cupping your chin. He paused briefly, like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t- and so the next thing you knew, Luke was pulling you closer to his body and his lips were pressing against your own, their warmth spreading the entirety of your body.  

Fat, fat, fat- your mind suddenly screamed. You suddenly became hyper-aware of his fingers digging into the soft, fleshy part of your hip, and wondered if he’d be repulsed by what he felt. But if he was, he didn’t make it obvious. 

There had to be a catch, you thought- some alternative motive for him to be kissing you like this. Guys like Luke didn’t go after girls like you. Fat girls like you, the voice said. 

He just wants sex.  

He’s not thinking straight. 

He’ll regret this tomorrow. 

You pulled away, breathlessly, your heart suddenly racing. Before Luke could suspect that something was wrong, you offered him your best smile. “I should get to bed,” you explained. 

Luke could sense the shift in your tone, you imagined that he wanted to ask what’s wrong, but you were already stepping away from him. Instead he nodded, trying to hide his confusion. “Okay, yeah. G-goodnight.”

“Night,” you whispered before shutting the door. 

…

Luke hoped he hadn’t fucked up.  

That was his first thought as soon as he saw the door close in his face. He bit his lips, they still tasted like you, and slowly backed away.  

His feet drummed against the cheap carpet floor of the hotel as he paced the few doors down to his own room.  

He really thought you’d liked him- thought you’d reciprocated the kiss even.  But judging by the look on your face when you closed the door, he thought that he might be terribly mistaken. 

He didn’t get his eight hours of sleep.  

In fact, he barely got any. Instead, he spent the night trying to figure out where the hell he could have gotten things so wrong.  

When Luke’s phone started buzzing loudly, he felt exhausted and not even close to ready for the inevitably long day ahead.  

Regardless, Luke got ready quickly. The one conclusion that he had come to after contemplating all night was that he wanted to find you and clear the air.  Despite his obvious feelings for you that were now right out in the open, he couldn’t risk your friendship, or making things awkward at work. Once he was showered and dressed, Luke departed the hotel in search of some coffee. 

He remembered that you liked it hot, with just cream and a hint of cinnamon.  This would be his peace offering, an apology for crossing the line, the promise that it wouldn’t happen again. 

…

You were answering a text from Emily on your phone, directing you to go to the ME office, when you heard a voice calling your name.  

Your head snapped up, and there, sure enough, like he was waiting for you in the lobby, Luke came jogging over. In his outstretched arm was a cup of coffee. 

“Hey.”

For a moment, you wondered if maybe Luke really was into you. A kiss one night and coffee the next morning? Surely that meant he wasn’t just looking for a hookup, right? 

You accepted his offering with a smile. “What’s this?” you asked dumbfoundedly.  Could you really be this lucky? Could he actually be interested in you? The butterflies in your stomach started flying rampantly as you quickly got your hopes up. 

“I wanted to apologize-” he said, his head falling, like he was ashamed. “For last night.”

Your heart sank. 

“I crossed the line, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Your friendship means a lot to me-”

And there it was. You were no stranger to the friendship line. Guys used it all the time as a way out.  After going on dates, after hookups- it was always the same response from them when they weren’t interested- I like you but I don’t want to risk our friendship. I really just want to be friends. I’m not ready for a relationship, can we just be friends?

To you that translated as, you’re not good enough for me.  

You were a fool for ever getting your hopes up- for ever thinking that someone like Luke could actually be interested in someone like you. 

You took the coffee and tried not to meet his eager gaze.  

“Don’t worry about it,” is all you could manage to croak out. 

Luke could sense the shift in your tone. “I really am sorry,” he said. 

But you shook your head, and feigned your best smile. You backed away from him, not wanting him to see the glistening tears evident in your eyes.  

Stupid, stupid, stupid, your mind was screaming at you. “It’s fine,” you said instead, your voice cracking slightly just as you turned to leave the hotel lobby. 

…

Luke knew he had fucked up.  

The peace offering that he had made was nothing short of a disaster, and now he’d have to come up with another way to make up for what he’d done. 

That much was obvious as he was left standing alone in the hotel lobby, gazing at the doors you’d just walked out of. 

... 

Three days later, on the jet ride home, Luke could barely get you to even look at him. Not that he had made much of an effort, but still. He wanted to give you space. Hadn’t he done enough damage already? 

He knew he’d have to think of a way to talk to you about what had happened.  Maybe if he just explained himself, you’d understand. 

But how was he supposed to talk to you when you wouldn’t even look at him?

He finally got his chance when the jet landed and the team was back at the BAU. He found you at your desk, hunched over a stack of paperwork. Rossi, JJ, Tara, and Spencer had already left for the night. Matt was gathering his belongings from his desk and heading out the door, meanwhile Emily was barricaded in her office with the door shut. If Luke was ever going to get a minute alone with you- it was now.  

He shuffled cautiously over towards your desk. You gave him no indication that you’d heard him at all, but nonetheless, he cleared his throat before getting too close. He didn’t want to startle you.  

You didn’t even look up from what you’re writing. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“I can’t right now,” your tone is flat.“I have this whole stack I need to do before tomorrow.”

Luke felt frustrated and dismissed, but he bit his tongue. Instead of pushing, he grabbed half the stack of paperwork from atop your desk and took it back to his own desk. Before you could protest or argue, he sat down and flipped open the first file, ready to work. 

…

The entire floor was eerily quiet. Besides the occasional clicking of keys and scratching of a pen, you and Luke worked in complete silence. 

You felt bad. You really didn’t have to finish all of this paperwork by tomorrow.  That was just your excuse to avoid talking with Luke. But now, it was almost 1 AM and you were nearly finished with it all. 

You heard his pen click and you knew that was his indicator that he was done with his stack. Your heart clenched in your chest anxiously. You heard him approach your desk. There was a sudden thump when he threw the stack back where he found it. 

“There,” he announces. “Can we talk now?”

The man was persistent. 

You set your pen down lightly and sighed. Admitting defeat, you nodded. 

Luke pulled Spencer’s chair out from his desk, which was right next to yours.  He scooted it closer to you. 

Your gaze remained hyper focused on your hands, which were cupped and laid neatly in your lap. Luke ducked his head down, trying to catch your eyes. Begrudgingly, you looked up and made eye contact with him. 

“Listen,” his voice was soft, “I am really sorry for kissing you the other night.”

You groaned frustratedly. “Will you stop apologizing?” you finally said. “I get it, you didn’t want to kiss me. It’s fine- But I don’t need this- this pity.”   

Luke instantly looked taken aback by your frustration, but it was the most you’ve said to him in the last three days, so he took it all in. As your words played back in his mind, he frowned. “I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“Well- whatever you did or didn’t say, I get it, okay? I get that it was a mistake and it didn’t mean anything. It’s fine.”

But Luke continued shaking his head. “I never said any of that-” he protested.  

You remained quiet, but he continued. “I never said any of that. Is that how you feel about it?” he asked, hands clasped tightly together. 

You shrugged. Your cheeks felt hot- you were insecure with Luke’s eyes trained so intently on you. You wished you could just forget this whole thing happened, wished you could just disappear. But Luke kept pushing.  

“Is that how you feel?” he repeated. There was a brief pause. “Because that’s not how I feel,” he said. “I don’t regret kissing you. I like you and I wanted to do it. And I thought you wanted to, too. If I had known you didn’t- I never would have done it. I regret making you uncomfortable, and I regret making things awkward between us, but I don’t regret the kiss.”

Luke’s words swam around in your head, but they were a jumbled mess. You tried to piece them together slowly, in order to process what he was saying. Did he just say he liked you?

There was a part of you that felt like this whole thing had just been a cruel joke.  But yet, here he was- sitting in front of you with the most sincere eyes you’d ever seen, and suddenly, you started to wonder if maybe this was real. Maybe, for God-only-knows what reason, Luke actually had feelings for you- was actually attracted to you. 

“You like me?” you asked, your voice low. 

Luke laughed- like actually laughed- and when you looked up at him, his eyes were squinting as his lips were curled into a wide grin. “Uh, yeah- I thought I’d made that blatantly clear.”

But you shook your head. “I- I didn’t know..”

“I kissed you-” he said, like it’s obvious. 

“I know, but I figured you just wanted to hookup- I didn’t think you actually liked me-”

“But I brought you dinner- and coffee. Did you think I just do that for everyone?”

You remained guarded, because you still couldn’t entirely trust this. “Yeah,” you said. “Kind of, I guess.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “Let me spell it out for you then. I like you.” He said each word carefully and slowly. “And I liked kissing you. And I’d really like to date you. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I’d still like to be friends, and I’d really like for things not to be awkward at work.”

You stared in awe, not able to believe any of this was really happening. You wanted to ask why. Why did this handsome, kind, honest man like you? What made you even remotely good enough for him? 

But you didn’t ask. Because did it matter right now?

“Your turn,” Luke urged. “Since I seem to have such a hard time reading you, can you spell it out for me too?”

You hesitated. You’d never flat out told someone how you felt about them. You were insecure and terrified of rejection. And even though Luke had flat out told you rejection wasn’t a possibility, you were still embarrassed to tell him how you felt. You didn’t like how vulnerable that made you- how open to the hurt that made you. 

But Luke’s smile was so reassuring and kind, you tried not to think too much before telling him quietly, “I like you too. I have for a while, actually.”

He chuckled, which you think might just be your new favorite sound. “So why’d you pull away the other night?” he asked longingly.  “Why have you been so distant?”

“Because- I didn’t think someone like you would ever be into someone like me.”

The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it. And when Luke’s face contorted into a look of confusion, and then hurt, you regretted it even more. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You fumble with your words, because you weren’t sure how to explain. “I just thought someone like you would be more apt to go after someone that looked more like Tara or JJ or Emily is all.”

“What’s the common denominator there? Because Tara, JJ, and Emily look nothing alike-”

“You know what I mean,” you protested. “I thought someone like you would be more apt to go for someone-” you paused before saying the word, “someone skinnier than- well... me.” 

Luke’s face fell, but you laughed it off nervously. “Just makes me wonder why, is all,” you said. 

“I like you-” he assured you. “I like you because you’re smart and you’re thoughtful.”

Luke’s managed to scoot his chair increasingly closer to you without you noticing. When you looked down, you realized that your knees were practically touching. The first thing that ran through your mind is, oh my God, your thighs are bigger than his. But you shook the thought away. You weren’t going to let that voice ruin this- not again. 

“You’re intuitive- the best profiler.”

The way Luke was looking at you made everything else melt away. All you saw was him and those unimaginably warm eyes. 

“You’re kind and generous and you make me laugh,” he paused. “You’re beautiful.”

You remembered how soft his lips felt against yours when you kissed days ago, and all you wanted was to taste him again. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long for your wish to come true. Luke leaned in, closing the gap between you two. Just when he was only inches from your face, he grinned. “I could keep going, you know?”

You ignored him and his cheeky grin and instead you leaned forward, and without thinking, cupped his face between your hands and pulled him closer.  

His lips were exactly as you remembered, soft and smooth and all-encompassing. Luke’s hand landed just above your knee and when you started to wonder whether or not your leg felt fat underneath his touch, you were able to silence it. Who the hell cares? Certainly not Luke, that much you were learning quickly. In fact, you wondered if maybe he even liked it. The thought passed quickly, and you were able to focus on the man in front of you instead- the one who was quickly claiming you as his own. The one you deserved. 

[misfitdollies]

I keep seeing people say that “people just don’t like Fang Vote Catty because she’s G3 and they wanted G1, not because she’s fat” when people mention that there’s pretty blatant fat phobia going on within the discourse around FV Catty. Like okay yeah, plenty of people really do just dislike her for that reason, but we can’t act like there isn’t very obvious fat phobia coming from certain parts of the community. Catty has been hated on for her weight since she got introduced in G3 and that didn’t suddenly change with the introduction of her FV doll. I honestly think to a degree it kind of got worse because she took the place of what people assumed would be a G1 doll, so in turn it brought out some extremely hateful people who were upset she took the spotlight from G1 Catty. There’s plenty of totally fine reasons you can dislike them choosing to use G3 Catty, but her weight will never be one of them.

[acatnamedpusheen]

Question tag game

Thank you my dear @stellamarielu for tagging me! Time to yap and overshare *rubs hands like a fly*

Do you make your own bed?

Nope! I just messily throw the sheets remotely back to their place when I want to sit and scroll on tiktok for hours.

Favorite number?

I don't think I have one? But I have grapheme-color synesthesia and all numbers have a color so I'd say 2 that is red and 6 that is pink look really cute (I'm not crazy guys just Google this it's a thing)

What's your job?

I'm currently jobless :") because I've devoted my time and savings to taking dance classes because I want to become a professional and a teacher.

If you could go back to school, would you?

Nope, not in a million years. I got bullied and was constantly getting rejected and ended up alone every time plus I hated having to study all these things that never interested me, not to even mention maths...

Can you parallel park?

I don't even have a license hahah and I'm a bit scared of driving but I know I can't let that fear deter me from trying some day.

Do you think aliens are real?

I don't know, I do think there must be forms of life somewhere in the vastness of the universe.

Can you drive a manual car?

Again, I don't have a license I've never even sat in the driver's seat lol

What's your guilty pleasure?

Does reading smut before bed count? :""")

Any phobias?

I have a pretty bad fear of heights and acrophobia to the point that sometimes it gets difficult for me to go on some escalators that go up in malls and stuff but I pull through. Also I have a fear of BUGS, like I once saw a roach in the bathroom and felt like passing out. Aaand I'm scared of hospitals, serious injuries, needles. I feel lightheaded at their sight.

Favorite childhood sport?

I HATED sport when I was young because I was a literal fat couch potato and when they made us play sports in school nobody ever chose me to be in their team and I was always left last to join whichever team was just missing a member and I hated running around so everyone was yelling at me for not being a good player. Not sure if it counts but I did enjoy when we were doing traditional dances in school. I guess my passion for dancing didn't come out of nowhere after all.

Do you talk to yourself?

ALL THE TIMEE. And I do all kinds of accents in English lol. It might not me my mother tongue but I usually choose English when I talk to myself.

Tattoos?

I've got 4 lol. And I know I said I'm scared of needles and I was almost shitting myself when I went to get my first one but let me tell you tattoos feel different. Also 3/4 where done in spots that I couldn't see the needle during the process (nowhere nasty y'all calm down) but during that 4th last one on my wrist when I looked at the needle doing its thing I felt dizzy so I kept looking away :")

Favorite color?

Purrrrrpleeeee I don't know why. And I just realized that not a single number has the color purple through my synesthesia eyes... omg nooo

Do you like puzzles?

Hear me out: I used to be the BIGGEST puzzle nerd when I was in like pre-primary/primary school! I had TONS of them and I'm talking even those 1000 and 5000 pieces ones. I'd splay all the pieces on the big table and spend hours trying to put everything together. Fun times. It's been years since I made one but I'd really love do it again sometime!

Tagging anyone who feels like oversharing and ditching their mysteriousness today lol

[sweet-chimera]

Character Dossier

Basics

Full name: H-0434

Known aliases:Honey Suckle Reject, Mead florere rejecto

Age: 3,219

Gender: Female presenting or Demi-Female (uses she/her pronouns)

Birthcreationdate: April 1st

Heritage: Gladen

Religion: Polytheistic considering gods and deities are real

Sexual and Romantic orientation: Demi/pan sexual and panromantic

Status: Currently a free monster, court officer, in the Miracle territory

Residencies: In the Reject Estate located in Kevin the forever forest

Highest level of education: Greek Gymn school, monster quality assurance training, The Nursery, Godly and royal etiquette training, Greek monster and spartan training

Occupation: Public servant, court officer (she's their lie detector for sentencing)

Physical examination

Facial features: Round eyebrows. Rounded goat nose, tusks protruding from mouth, four sets of eyes (White pupils, usually red and green), 6 distinctive facial stripes

Face-claim: Herself. I draw all my own stuff

Voice: She has a (more mild now) scottish accent and a deep, feminine voice

Voice claim: Bronagh; Sound of the Sea

Eyes: She can have up to 8. All looking like colored rings, in the following colors:

Hair: Old burgandy, dark brown hair with a slightly redish-purple hue

Body type: She is a curvier, larger women with wider hips, and fat deposits on her body (shes had many kids)

Distinguishable Marks: double stripes on her shoulders, a serial number fur pattern in her fur, and 6 stripe markings on her face

weight: 285 lbs give or take

Height: Fluctuates, but remains around 5'7" for the sake of being approachable to most species

Mental Evaluation

Mental illness: PTSD, Hypervigilance around others, Not technically DID but she is a single body housing many creatures mentally, emotional affluency

Psychological profile: ESFJ

Positive traits: Empathetic, perceives needs, practical, caring

Negative traits: Detached, self deprecating, Assigns values based on usefulness

Alignment type: She can not perceive morality but based on action alone, True neutrual or lawful neutrual

Meyer-Briggs Personality type: (S/N)

Phobias: Afraid of technology, Frogs

Mannerisms: One set of eyes will avoid eye contact, one set will stare. Finger taps. Tail buzzing. Frog blinking.

Hobbies and Interests: Horticulture, Potion craft, baking, weaving, national parks, child rearing (yes), Tailoring.

Strategic analysis

Combat style: She avoids fighting at most costs, and if she does get into one (Not relating to damage mitigation or calming down a rampaging friend). Her motto is destroy them, everything they hold dear, and 5 generations of their blood line. Or pawn the problem off on someone else (still usually resulting in death) Since fighting is looked unfavorably upon. But other wise, mid to long ranged attacks with close range hand to hand being for when you want to get messy

Weapon of choice: She personally is a pole arms user, spears and pole axes when its not her magic or body as a weapon

Hand to hand Combat efficiency: Extremely competent considering she spent actual decades in a spartan military against other monsters

Tactical strength: Reconnaissance and small precise strike teams (herself and her parts). Honorable mention being honey potting or espionage

Tactical weakness: Lack of external leader ship, the cold, salt water, lead (lead is the only thing that works on the whole body and not an individual part

Signature technique: Plant, fungus, and moss roots forming spell circles underground and releasing a powerful (long set up) attack without the enemy ever knowing it was being set up.

Pain tolerance: Extremely high to everything but ice and lead. And even then she's willing to turn pain receptors off. (And risk not even registering when her body is beyond the point of no return)

Defensive skills: Classical shield training, turning big, using more hard wood and fiber plants. Running away

Relationships and affiliations

Family: She has 31 siblings. But the most notable are Nectar (the sphinx), Pollen (eastern loong), Heat (Chimera), Rika (Daughter. 100% honey's, but biologically black dragon)

Allies and associates: I haven't discussed relationships with muns that much. I know that shes on familial standing with some muses, but as far as allies or associates. No one really has her loyalty nor do I really have mains like that or overlapping canons with other muns. But from story canon there Persephone, and Queen Mab.

Rivalries: Honey has no one she's in competition with

Enemies: Honey has no one she despises or is on sight with

Romantic histories: Honey has no explicit ships or romantic history with any muses with active blogs. (Like puppy crushes are different from a bonafide ship). But from her Story canon, theres Cerberus, Rika's father, and a few other monsters from history (at least sexually. Romance is stretching it)

Notable friends: Alex, Hax & Eath, Gritt, Hook & terrance, Olgan, Frost, Crowley & Mack, Rachel, Kairi, Heiron, The fizz bots, and I'm sure others I can't think of.

Habits and life style

Daily routine: Honey Wakes up at sunrise regardless of when she went to bed, especially because Rika is Nocturnal and Is going to bed at that time. She makes herself tea and breakfast by 6:00 am or at least an hour after she's woken up which ever is earlier. She'll check on all of her Nymphs and forest creatures. Then she'll go into town to check on her neighbors. Then she'll go into work doing essentially odd jobs for the colony because they haven't had need for the court in ages. Then its the daily shenanigan with what ever muse she's seeing that day, and usually shes back home in time to wake up Rika, feed her, help her with homework and send her off to her training.

Diet and nutrition: She's Vegetarian. And won't eat meat. being part plant. She consumes alot of sugar and needs access to sunlight to feel okay

Exercise habits: most of her exercise comes from Sparring woth some of her coworkers and physical labor.

Grooming habits: She tries to bath no less then once a day. But considering how often shes running for her life or in someones shenanigan it's at a different time each day. Every day her horns and fangs grow to a point so she'll file them down back to being round and non threatening. As well as pluck any flowers Alluria sprouted out of her skin.

Substance use: She doesn't. Unless she's at like a party. But 9 times out of 10. Straight edge.

Sleep patterns: She doesn't unless something puts her to sleep.

Personal aesthetic: Cottage core, little house on the prairie, dark academia

Favorite book: Before the law by Franz Kafka, Frankenstein by Mary shelly

Favorite music genre: Blue grass folk

Favorite Art/Architecture: neo-classical

tagged by: @feelinsheepish and technically @xxlordalexanderxx

Tagging: anyone