#but i have a headache. so no booze :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absurdthirst · 8 months

Text

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

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|| 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.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #joel miller imagine #mob au #mob boss joel miller

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beneathashadytree · 2 months

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HUNGOVER - VINSMOKE SANJI X READER

Warnings : Sanji’s self-image issues, hangover, passing out, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <33

Additional notes : This is part 2 to a fic I posted 2 years ago (crazy, I know) called Intoxicated, so I recommend reading that first! Inspiration suddenly hit me ig🙏🏽 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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Masterlist

It was at times like these that Sanji cursed his entire being—most especially his body, for having gotten so used to waking up at a set time every day. Because here he was, with a pounding headache that threatened to split his head in half and squash his brain into a mush, and yet he was still unable to sleep in for more than 4 hours.

Delaying the inevitable, he tried his best to keep his eyes shut, even if just for a little while. Dread filled him at the thought that opening them would send lancinating pain shooting through his eyes and the back of his head, and that was an issue he did not want to deal with now.

Especially not after colossally mortifying himself like that last night. Actually, he’d much rather forget it all together. Maybe completely wipe the memory from his head.

Much of the second half of the night was a booze-induced haze, flashing images swirling behind his eyes like they’re floating in water, and he couldn’t bring himself to try and remember the rest of it. After all, why would he want to think about how he embarrassed himself in front of the one person he yearned for more than life itself?

Baring his heart like only an idiot would, skinning himself alive and prostrating himself in front of them without a single ounce of the dignity he’d tried so hard to preserve for ages… he truly was a lost cause.

“Putain,” Sanji swore under his breath, even his raspy voice sounding grating to his ears, and he buried his head further into—

—his jacket?

All inhibitions instantly cast aside, his head shot up from where it was, and he was hit with the surging pain of an unbearable crick in his neck. Eyes flying open and completely ignoring the sting of the light, it was only then that he realized that he hadn’t, in fact, stumbled his drunken way back to bed after his whole blurted confession and tumbled face first into dreamland.

No. In reality, he’d actually just slept an uncomfortable few hours on the kitchen table, his head just barely hanging on after being supported only by his crumpled jacket.

Shit. The kitchen.

It was at that moment he came to the sudden realization that the thrumming headache wasn’t only caused by him waking up, but also from the loud banging of another person in his kitchen pulling out his precious pots and pans.

It must be well past morning. Everyone was probably ridiculously hungry by now.

It took all he had for him to stop himself from snapping at whoever it was that decided to step up (and also make a wreck out of his sacred space and possessions) for only that reason. In his desire to drown himself in his sorrowful miseries, he’d completely neglected his duty as a chef. If not to sustain his crewmates and friends, what use was he outside of battle?

Nothing, he thought to himself, blearily blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he began to turn around with a sigh, not looking forward to the confrontation that was to come, nothing at all—

“There you are, darling,” came a soft voice from behind him, barely above a whisper. A blooming warmth rushed to his cheeks, and he almost toppled out of the chair as he recognized just who it was that was saying those saccharine words.

It couldn’t be. There was no way he he’d be so blessed by the angels first thing in the morning.

And yet. And yet.

Here they were, in all their fresh-faced, tender-hearted glory, leaning down to gently stroke his cheek with a deft thumb. If Sanji let slip a broken whimper of half-relief, half-agony, they made no comment on it. “You’re hungover, then?”

With his mouth feeling like it was filled with cotton wool, no words could come out, and he instead just nodded his head weakly. Thankfully, that too they let slide. “I got Chopper to help out with that.” They pushed a cup with an odd liquid and two pills towards him. “Should help.”

For a couple of seconds as Sanji downed them and sent a silent prayer to whoever decided to let Chopper have the lack of common sense to join their crew, they turned around, probably on their way back to the stove that now sizzled and emitted the lovely smell of caramelized onions and garlic—and if his nose wasn’t betraying him, simmering in some balsamic vinegar and soy sauce—that he had memorized long ago. But after a moments’ hesitation, they walked up to him once again, sliding his jacket out from underneath him and carefully folding it.

“You should go to your quarters and get a proper sleep in. I’ve got it from here.” With that sweet smile of theirs that threatened to send his heart into overdrive, they began to usher him out. “When you’re up again, I’ll reheat your food for you. You don’t look so ready to eat now.”

If he was looking as green as he felt, he couldn’t blame them one bit for calling it out as it is. Clearing his throat once then twice, he tried to speak again, voice awfully raspy (even more than after he’d had a smoke). “You… you cooked?”

They hummed in affirmation, now with their back turned to him as they began to crack eggs into a pan. “Not done yet, but yeah. You’ve only slept a couple of hours, so I figured it would be better if I managed to get us through breakfast in your place. Won’t be as good as yours, but I hope you can trust me to try.”

As they waved off to their left, he saw how they’d propped up his notebook against the pepper shaker. And maybe this was just him feeling extra sensitive and still a little in a haze, but something stirred in his chest at the thought of them carefully following every step in his recipes and diligently trying to emulate his cooking.

“Mon ange, you shouldn’t have…” His voice was still a little rough yet trembling with the emotions he couldn’t even try to hide; emotions that were bigger than his own feeble heart could take. His fists curled at his sides, eyebrows furrowed as he watched them elegantly handle the kitchenware like they were their own. This was too much for him. “I can handle my own hangover. It’s… it’s not your responsibility to do my own job.”

With a sigh, they turned down the stove and looked back at him with an exasperated yet incredibly fond look in their eyes. “You silly man, no one’s forcing me to do this.” At the affectionate lilt of their voice, Sanji’s mouth went dry, and he tried to swallow (with much difficulty) past the lump in his throat.

What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He can’t have earned this much goodness. There simply was no way.

“You don’t have to earn my love, Sanji.” Fuck. Had he really said that out loud? Their soft-spoken words and the sympathetic look in their eyes told him that yes, he had. He hadn’t intended to make himself sound so pathetic, and yet here he was, accepting the way they brushed his curly eyebrow with slivers of shame curling inside his chest. “I’ve already told you, my love is yours to keep,” they softly said.

“Your… pardon, quoi?” His heart came to a stuttering stop, all his movements halted and his eyes blown wide open almost comically as the words they said finally hit him.

One look at how utterly confused and shocked he looked, and realization seemed to dawn on their face. “I guess it would be too ambitious of me to expect you to remember much of last night,” they huffed out a laugh, before taking to the chopping board and beginning to chop up some fresh vegetables as they slowly spoke, as though hoping to break it gently. “You weren’t the only one who had an indirect confession in store.”

Digging the palms of his hands into his closed eyes, Sanji threw back his head and groaned as the memories came back to him bit by bit, achingly slowly and then all at once. “Merde,” he hissed out, the throbbing in his head doubling with every image that replayed in his head. “I can’t believe…” It was almost like he’d set a personal challenge for how much a person could embarrass themself within less than 12 hours.

What other explanation was there for him just completely forgetting that the one person who’d burrowed into the depths of his heart had somehow expressed that they felt the same for him? How else could he explain not remembering that they’d said that they wanted to be with him, in some miraculous way that he still couldn’t quite believe was real?

The chop-chop-chop of the knife stilled, and they set it down with a chuckle that sent tingles down his spine and his heart into near cardiac arrest. Lovely, lovely, lovely. His hangover seemed to have a weak spot for their laughter too, because why else would his headache somehow chip away just at the sound?

They were quick to soothe him with their words, their hands reaching up to tug his arms back to his sides. “It’s fine, I promise. You’re just a bit disoriented now.” Looking into such a fond gaze didn’t help the heat rushing to his cheeks, and he found himself being reminded of just how desperately in love he was; so much that he could swear it burned him alive. “I mean it though,” they earnestly mumbled, tenderly cupping his face, “and I’ll wait till you’re well-rested. Then we’ll talk.”

“Alright,” he managed to whisper out between breaths, “But—“

“Go.” They gave him a gentle push, before turning around to stir something in a small pot and add some spices that made the smell even more tantalizing. “If you don’t want breakfast to be a disaster, that is. Wouldn’t want to send my boyfriend’s kitchen up in flames.”

That’s it. A sharp pang in the deepest crevices of his chest and he was gone, his head floating with dizziness and his vision swimming. Sanji was long dead and on his way to whichever heaven would accept him; a heaven where he was somehow inexplicably loved and wanted; a heaven where he’d hear those words from their lips and know that they were indeed—thanks to some ridiculously generous higher power that blessed him beyond his wildest dreams—referring to him.

The last thing he felt were his limbs failing to keep supporting him, and a lightheadedness that overtook him so suddenly, crumpling to the ground in a helpless heap.

I think I’m gonna die a lucky man, he dazedly thought to himself, before finally succumbing to a blissful unconsciousness against the cold kitchen floor.

“Sanji!”

Taglist: @stories-that-shaped-me @finch-ya @wifeofkyojuro @fluffismystaplefood @angry-and-yandere @semi-orangeapple @carsonology @respitable @spotted-salamander @musiclover2119 @thatbaepizzalover @scentisterror @shengbiao-shiny @jammycheese @klutzycora-san @hyunskz

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akirathedramaqueen · 2 months

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Only one person has the power to make Stolas cry

And I'll keep the intrigue just a little bit longer so you can try to guess for yourself and experience the kind of satisfaction I had once I pieced it all together. And, oh boy, did it click!

Okay, so today, after a rather passionate conversation with @tealvenetianmask about how fandom seems to perceive Stolas as overly emotional and soft demon, we started rummaging through all the scenes where Stolas actually cried. We were blown off by some revelations.

First note: it's actually not much. Our owl appears to be very sturdy and often bites back when attacked, rather than shutting down as one might expect.

Second note... Better let me show you. Let's walk through all the 'Stolas cries' scenes and see what is happening there, and answer the question, "What, or rather who, sets him off the rails?"

This is your last chance to place your bets and educated guesses. Because below are big clues, and, eventually, answer.

Circus

We follow up on Stolas shortly after the disastrous date at Ozzie's - arguably, a couple of hours later. He looks absolutely miserable. He has boozed himself to unconsciousness. His eyeliner is ruined from earlier tears. He groans, either from headache or emotional turmoil, grabs three Happy pills, and shoves them down his throat.

Whatever happened at this club ruined our bird, to the point he's looking for anything to avoid being alone with his thoughts.

Western Energy

One shed tear. That's all Stolas allows himself. That's what I am talking about when I claim he is actually very tough. He is being tortured, mutilated, and by this point, he has a pretty good understanding that his demise is likely inevitable.

And you know what he does in response? He talks back. He cuts through Striker's bullshit about royals taking everything from him and points out that his killer took a contract from a royal. He literally humiliates Striker with sex jokes and mocks his oversized dick on the statue ego. Figuratively, he spits death in its face.

The Full Moon

Stolas is destroyed.

This meeting was nerve-wracking even before it happened - all the preparation, insecurities, misunderstandings of the past, and lingering, terrifying questions (He loves me? He loves me not?).

It takes weeks to set everything in motion. He planned it meticulously. He scripted every word, every movement of his body, every subtle tone in his voice.

But he forgot that there was another party in this play. The party who was not given the script and is burdened with his own trauma. One shitty assumption, one poorly-thought-out action, and here it is - mockery, avoidance, a fight... and tears. His first meltdown he wasn't able to conceal.

His worst nighmares came true, or so he convinced himself. He loves me not.

Apology Tour

Our last stop on our 'we-love-being-tortured-by-crying-Stolas' tour is here.

The wound is still fresh, bleeding even, and here he comes, rubbing salt into it. Someone Stolas still desperately wants. Someone who was infinitely brash, rude, and aggressive just this morning. Someone who doubled down on statements that made Stolas believe this particular someone hates him.

That someone tries to talk. To explain. To apologize. Wonders how Stolas could actually care about him. Says the prince is better off without him.

Fuck... The prince came here to forget, to wipe that someone (okay, it's getting increasingly hard to pretend it's not obvious yet) from his memory, at least for the night, and he still won't let Stolas go.

He breaks into tears, crushed, reassured he can't have anyone who would hold him, who would say he is the only one, but recuperates shortly after - he was taught better than this.

Okay, are we ready for the shocker of the year?

It's Blitzø.

It was his date with Blitzø at Ozzie's, where he was ignored, humiliated, and was told that their relatioship was only about sex, and that he was the one who made it clear.

It was Blitzø turning down (or so he thought) his distress call, leading him to believe he was left alone to die.

It was Blitzø mocking his confession and assuming it was just a fucking roleplay.

Finally, it was Blitzø haunting him since that very morning and, albeit with better intentions, still hurting him beyond his abilities to recover.

The only person who tore his soul apart enough to break his inpenetrable mask - built up by decades of gritted teeth, restraint, and bravery - was the one he probably cares about the most.

It was not Octavia, whom he holds close to his heart but couldn’t allow to see him depressed. He had to be strong for her; he needed to raise and support her.

It was not Stella, whom he endured for years, yet did not satisfy her wish to see him whimper. He talked back, argued, ignored, and seethed. But he never gave in.

It was him. An imp who stole his grimoire and gave him the best time of his life, however sad that may sound.

Now, thanks for joining this drama in four acts. You may pull out your handkerchiefs and ugly cry right here, in your places. Don't hold it in.

Because I don't.

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mandarinmoons · 7 months

Note

Hi! i saw the other request and this came to mind!

reader and reid are in a situationship (not relationship) one night reader gets drunk and kisses someone else and reid sees it and gets jealous and kinda disappointed?? but he has to take her home, she asks him to stay but he doesnt wants to cajse hes mad Andd idk something like that but with happy ending pls 😩 if u dont want to dont do it Its ok <3 <3

Ofc i want to <3

You and Spencer had quite a unique relationship. At work you two were professional coworkers who were also good friends, but behind closed doors you two could be considered as more than friends. Cuddling, the occasional kiss or two or full blown making out, it was something you two kept to yourself. You both previously had bad luck in the romance game and would agree to keep things casual, nothing serious but as humans are, have a need for love and care, both of you agreed to offer it to one another.

It was hard to keep it to yourselves at times. Sometimes you had a desperate need to be in Spencer’s arms, but you were at work and had to keep your needs to yourself until both you and Spencer were in the safeness of your four walls.

One night you and the team headed out for drinks to celebrate a case that took over 3 months to solve. You were going to get wasted and if you were going to end up getting all touchy feely with Spencer you could attest that it was the alcohol talking, a solid alibi and no one would think that there was something going on between you and your close coworker.

Some hours in and a few cocktails and shots later, the booze had taken its effect and made you into a giggly and affectionate mess. After your first drink you were slightly cuddling into Spencer’s side, but now you had your arms wrapped around his neck and occasionally pressed a few kisses against his cheek.

"Who knew Y/N was so affectionate,” Emily laughed.

“Yeah what’s a man gotta do to have ‘em here all up in my arms,” Derek chimed in.

You scoffed and tightened your hold on Spencer’s neck, “If you know how to turn yourself pretty like Spencer over here, then you can give me a call.”

The whole team chuckled and a blush creeped on Spencer’s cheeks, although he did love the affection he was receiving from you he was a bit nervous about your little shared secret coming to light.

“Y/N, hey, I’ll get you some water okay? I don’t want you to have too bad of a headache in the morning.”

“Fineee,” you pouted as Spencer lightly took a hold of your hands and unraveled them from around him. You watched as he walked off and chuckled to yourself as your eyes did land on his rear, and you liked what you saw.

In your head for what seemed like 10 minutes, which was probably only 2, you stood up and headed towards the bar to find your special friend. You leaned your arms on the counter to try and steady yourself and felt a hand on your arm.

“Hey, you okay there?”

You nodded and looked up to see Spencer looking at you with concerned eyes, or what looked to be Spencer. Your vision was a bit blurry, but you could still make out the sharp jawline and brown eyes that you adored.

“I missed you.”

“Did you?” the man chuckled and caressed your arm.

You nodded and leaned closer and pecked his lips lightly, which turned into a deeper kiss a moment later.

All of a sudden you felt yourself be pulled back by a forceful tug, “What’re you doing?!”

You looked up and saw a very clearly heated Spencer, his eyebrows were furrowed and you could make out a vein protruding from the side of his forehead, the man you had just kissed was not him.

“Spence I-”

“I’m taking you home, now.”

Spencer’s grip on your arm was gentle yet firm as he dragged you to the table the team was sitting at, took your coat and said good night to everyone, before turning around with you in his arms and headed to his car.

The ride back to your apartment was silent. You may have been inebriated, but you could tell that Spencer was pissed. Why should he be though? You weren’t a couple so what’s the problem? Well, the boundaries you both set up were kind of blurry and over time you both seemed to cross them more and more. You wouldn’t be able to lie to yourself that you didn’t feel something towards him if you were to see Spencer kissing someone else, the thought made your stomach churn, or maybe that was the alcohol? No, this was different.

After helping you up the stairs, lying you down on the couch and draping a blanket over you, Spencer turned on his heel and turned towards the door.

"Spence, wait!”

Spencer turned around and clenched his jaw as he glanced at you, you had never seen him be this pissed off.

“I thought that it was you I… I’m sorry,” tears pricked to your eyes and your voice wavered, you couldn’t lose him, not right now.

Spencer sighed and cast his eyes down before slowly moving towards your way and sat down next to you. You hugged him and he wrapped his arms around you gently, one of his hands cradling your head.

"Please stay.”

Spencer nodded and tightened his hold on you, “I will sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Soon enough you fell asleep on his shoulder and Spencer moved so you both were laying down on the couch. He pulled the blanket over both of you and pulled you close to his chest, kissing your head and smiled when he felt you nuzzling into his neck.

Spencer knew that he couldn’t keep this up any longer, his feelings for you had grown quite strong and he didn’t want to keep sneaking around. He knew that it wasn’t other people’s business as to what was going on in his love life, but it felt unfair on you and him that he had to keep this under wraps when you were the reason he was so happy after a long while.

He sighed as he caressed your back and admired your peaceful face. This was it, he had to talk to you in the morning.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence

@sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months

Text

❝ you make me feel like I am clean again ❞

yandere!mob leaders x gn!reader | how you met | not proofread

warnings: graphic description of violence, guns, power imbalance (r! is part of the gang but they are a low-ranking member), yandere tendencies, mentions of drug dealings, very brief mention of r! getting felt up by someone in JH's section

masterlist ;

authors note: doing some oc writing feels lowkey daunting but I hope you guys enjoy it, I wasn't exactly sure how to format this aaaa but! I hope it isn't too confusing. I wanted to go more into depth but I suppose this serves as an introductory post to them??? IDK, I've never written this kinda thing before. * here is the better-quality post of the illustration * song on repeat: Love Song by Mariee Sioux

Kim Seo-Yun —

Seo-Yun would be unimpressed the first time she laid her eyes on you. It wouldn't be due to your looks, mannerisms, voice; she's just been hardwired that way.

Wants and needs are hard to convey when you're running one of the most dangerous businesses one could run. Drugs, gambling, skin, weapons — Seo-Yun's a busy woman.

Over time, however, she'll let her gaze linger on you.

Have you always looked so good in that colour? It really does bring out the shine in your eyes, and the suppleness of your lips. Seo-Yun's gaze is intimidating but seeing you squirm is all a part of your charm.

That's right. You're only dressing and acting this way to grab her attention, correct? Why else would she find it so hard to rip her sights from you?

Honestly, she shouldn't be making such frequent trips to the lower ring of her gang. This warehouse was meant to weed out the weakest of her guard dogs. It reeked of sweat and blood and cigarettes and cheap booze. The constant sounds of wrapped knuckles beating down on sandbags and bodies falling on thin mats gave her a headache.

Yet. She stands here on the second floor, gazing down at the sweaty men, a handful of women, and most importantly; you.

Favoritism comes slower than her interests. Seo-Yun will shove her feelings down until it bursts like a fucking volcano. All of a sudden, it's as if she's a hound that's caught the scent of their kill.

"What?" The man before you is wearing an expensive suit, luxury adorning him from the shimmering cuffs to the stitching that holds it together. "Madam Kim is requesting your transfer," he says curtly.

The transfer promotes you from doing grunt work near a polluted harbor to one of Seoul's most expensive penthouses in Gangnam.

It's jarring. She does not give you time to adjust. One moment you're setting down your duffel bag of things and the next you're in the back of a luxury car driving through Seoul's wealthiest district.

The guards (who are double your size and proudly show off their facial scars) push you toward the door of a seamstress. The very air you breathe smells like money.

When you see Seo-Yun, your eyes widen and you kneel to bow.

She muffles her amusement with a slow drag of her cigarette.

"They're very pretty, Madam Seo-Yun," a kindly old lady says from behind her. Her hands were bony and delicate, and the pin cushion she wore around her wrist looked heavy. Everything about her seemed deliberate and put together.

Despite that, despite the glamorous patterns she had on her and the jewelry hanging from her ears; Seo-Yun called for eyes on her with no more than a simple wave of her hand, flicking the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Aren't they? Such a gem."

Seo-Yun orders you to be a part of her security team. Dresses you in custom-made suits to blend in with the rest of the capable men and women. She gives you new weapons and arranges for you to have an apartment near hers. New fake IDs in store, local beat cops turning their gaze away as you smoke in alleyways with an obvious bulk under your jacket.

A gem she called you. And like a gem, she cannot keep her eyes off you.

Stares at you as if you were put on display. Relishes in the way you keep your gaze down, squaring your shoulders, straightening your posture — squirming under her gaze.

"Come inside," you freeze at her words. The other security guards stand stoically in the private entryway of her penthouse and she stands on the threshold of that obscenely large and heavy door.

"Madam?" you squeak out. She narrows her upturned eyes, like a goddess with no mood to be asked twice.

This is a nightly occurrence. It becomes a routine.

She invites you into her home, leaving the door open for you to close on your way in. She sits on the tufted leather sofa, and her grin is expectant.

You kneel. Then, you bring your palms to the floor and crawl towards her. Only stopping when your chin is on her knee and you bring your eyes to meet hers.

"Sweet thing," she'll coo. Her palm is soft and cared for, but there is the slightest bit of callousness here and there. That roughness that comes with holding a gun to someone's head.

The first time she had told you to kneel, you'd been so confused you stood there like a statue. Seo-Yun gives you a minute to let it click, and she tilts her head as you jerkily kneel on her expensive floors.

"Crawl to me."

"Sweet darling," she continues. Your eyes flutter close as she traces your cheekbones with her thumb. "So good for me, so obedient, aren't you?"

How could you not be?

In the weeks you'd been with her, your life took such a drastic turn. Well-fed, well-cared for, and pampered in little but big ways. You were the runt of the litter, a stray, she told you.

She had seen you, she said. She had seen your potential, your drive, your passion.

"I was...I just, I just needed the money, Madam," you sheepishly admit that first night, balancing your chin on her knee.

Who would choose to become the grunt of a dangerous gang? Miniscule soldiers with dreams of dying a movie-worthy death, of brotherly bonds between hardened criminals — Please. You were at the end of your rope, this was the only option before the noose.

"Money is life," Seo-Yun strokes over your cheeks. "You fought to live, climbed through the muddy filth of the pier, and here you are. In my lap."

"I see you, (Y/N)."

"Are you tired?" the shake of your head earns a firm squeeze on your jaw. Your eyes flutter open so she grins sweetly.

"Bathe with me." She lifts your chin and you stand, taking her into your arms as she tugs on the shoulder gun strap you wore, leading you along like a leash. A security guard's job does not include such tasks. You're aware. But how could you say no to the most powerful woman in Seoul?

Your relationship starts off with a clear dynamic. You belong to Seo-Yun, no ifs or buts. No matter how dubious your feelings towards her are, you cannot deny there is such a lovely prospect of being a powerful person's beloved.

Or gem. Or pet. Or...whatever it is Seo-Yun considers you as.

All you know is you are hers and she expects nothing but loyalty and excellence from you. She dresses you in the best, feeds you the best foods, your mattress is hers and therefore it is fit for a Queen.

How spoiled are you, (Y/N)?

So spoiled you do not even realise the pretty cage she's put around you. Don't realise that those pearly white gates are her own teeth as she closes her jaws; too distracted by the gifts, the love, she showers you in.

Exactly how she wants you to be. Pliant, demure, and hers.

So what if your old friends suddenly never contact you again? Or your financial dependence has suddenly been transferred to her? If you never hold a gun in your hands ever again.

"Crawl to me, baby."

And you do. And she grins as she holds your face.

"Good pet."

Kim Jeong-Hyun —

Jeong-Hyun is a peculiar man. Some would argue he's barely a man; others would chime that he's barely human. The sight of the deep scars on his body; the mutilated side of his face. His left ear was chewed off, his left eye cloudy, and a good chunk of his lips ripped off to reveal gums and teeth.

Even if he wasn't a monster; he looked it. That was enough to set people on edge. Seemingly unaware of how he plants the fear of God within people, Jeong-Hyun stares at everyone with a dark gaze that could make the devil shiver.

Unlike his older sister, who hides her emotions until they spill over the edge, he makes his interest known from the beginning.

His good eye, lighter than any brown you've ever seen; a molten hazel that flashes gold in sunlight, devours you as he stands before you.

Although Madam Seo-Yun attends the funerals of her fallen men, she does not linger for the drinking and eating. Jeong-Hyun does.

You'd excused yourself from your circle, the drinks making your body warm enough to endure the cold night air as you light up a cigarette.

The clicking of nails on the brick ground forces you to look at the whimpering dog. Mangy, fur matted, and with its stubby legs like rubber as it paws at your shoe. It was someone's pet, left on the streets. Judging from the overgrown fur, it's been a while since someone's given it any kindness.

Jeong-Hyun had just walked out for a breather (he enjoys spending time with his men, but the noises and the scent of booze could get overwhelming), a bag of meat in hand as he set his sights on feeding the local strays.

But then he sees you crouched by an alleyway, pouring some cheap kibble you bought from a nearby convenience store onto some newspaper. Jeong-Hyun's footsteps are ghostlike, you don't even notice he's there until you feel his breath whisper along your ear and when you spin he's statue-like.

"B — Boss!" He's not the boss — he's just her brother. He still outranked you (by a whole league) so, he doesn't correct you as you bow your head so far down it's between your knees.

He looks silly crouched down in his two-piece suit. You're dressed formally, though the two of you were in different financial brackets. Jeong-Hyun does not speak. The pinkish scar that runs across his neck peeks from the collar of his button-up. It has your toes curling just imagining what had caused it.

He nudges the plastic bag your way, and you cautiously take it from him. To your surprise, he squishes his eyes into crescent moons, and despite his scarred cheek lifting from behind the black surgical mask he wore he looked so...innocent.

The rounded shape of his eyes, the deep crease of his eyelid, and his brows - it all makes him look boyish.

You turn your attention to the strips of expensive beef he had gotten, feeding the poor puppy in silence.

Jeong-Hyun's interest begins with him accompanying your crew as you were tasked to make a show of a traitor. He shoves the blade your way, hilt tilted your way as he connects his gaze with you.

The leader of your crew informs him you are new. He does not even pretend to hear him.

You took the blade, the forged metal heavier than you expected it to be but not impossibly so. It seemed as though it was his favorite, a little longer than a dagger but still small enough to hide under your clothes. Weighing it on your palm, you test the balance of it before gripping it tightly and Jeong-Hyun is entranced by the casual dominance you have over it.

The man before you, on his knees with his cut lip hanging heavily and his eyes so bruised you wonder how he can still see you enough to squeak in fear; he shivers and bows desperately.

"How do you want him, boss?" You glance at him, the grip on the blade strong and confident. He narrows his eyes then closes his eyes, jerking his chin forward.

' However you see fit. '

Jeong-Hyun falls in love with your violence.

Asking for you, always. Giving you food to bring back, giving you new knives and even transferring you to his personal squad of men and women. He'd even invited you into his home. Which, apparently, was not unusual but no one had ever had the pleasure of being able to see the pack of dogs he had.

He starts hanging around you more. His favoritism is hard to mask and it causes you more issues than you'd like to admit.

"You're his little bitch now, huh?" or "His cock tastes good, (Y/N)?"

But who can say no when their boss tells them they want you to follow him around, be his shadow, do nothing more than observe boring meetings and itching for the usual vulgarity of mobsters while you're stood by the wall or behind him?

The madam is not impressed by you. Whenever she speaks to her brother, she will cast a glance filled with nothing more than mild bemusement and disgust.

"Hey, boss," he tilts his head in your direction. You're sat in a barbeque restaurant, and he's watching you intently as you flip the meat, licking his exposed teeth with an almost canine-like attribute.

"...Can I ask you a question?" Jeong-Hyun nods, tearing his eyes away to now look at you. They're almost golden, you think to yourself, the colour of his eyes is so bright.

"Why do you favour me?"

Jeong-Hyung, you come to find out, does not speak. The scar you see peeking from his high collars was apparently a wound that had gone so deep, it took the ability for him to speak comfortably. So Jeong-Hyun signs; "What does that mean?"

"Favour?" You ask and he nods.

"Well, it means, why do you...like me...?"

Jeong-Hyung blinks for a few seconds then tells you to flip the meat. The conversation seemingly ends. That is until you find yourself in his home and he has invited you to his basement.

The dogs bark from behind the doggy gate, a hallway away feeling like a stretch of land as their noises echo. In the basement, you find yourself surrounded by crusted blood and metal. He lifts a dagger and shows it to you. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, it's been weeks since you've held it, but then your brows furrow.

"You kill good. Like me, I like that. I like you," he signs while you hold the dagger. "You like me?" He nods, pulling his black mask away from his face, and grins. It's surreal to see, not exactly grotesque but an unusual sight.

"I like you," he signs.

When his enthusiasm is met with confusion, Jeong-Hyun's face contorts into worry.

He takes the dagger from your hand, places it down, then holds your hands in his. He's tall, towering easily over you as he brings your knuckles to his lips.

He has essentially muted himself. Focusing his strength on keeping your hands hostage as he walks forward until your back meets the smoothed limewash walls of his basement.

"Boss? I'm flattered, but this is a lot to take in....!"

His cloudy eye is in a perpetual squint, healed scars tugging on the skin so it looks almost uncomfortable stretched. They have so much sadness that you feel guilt sprout in you.

'Love me,' they say, 'Love me, love me, lovemelovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme'

Your relationship is dubious. The jeers from your comrades make you feel more flustered than before and Jeong-Hyun is not shy about his affections.

He holds your hands in meetings and traces the shapes of your fingers and joints.

When a snake requires a beheading, Jeong-Hyun takes off your jacket for you and hands you a weapon of his choice. The men who snicker at the sight? Jeong-Hyun is not fond of guns but he so does love it when his sister presses her Beretta to the back of their necks and makes them gasp and sputter.

Madam Seo-Yun may not like you but you matter too much to her little brother for her to allow their insubordinate to make fun of you.

Jeong-Hyun is like a touch-starved puppy. Despite his towering size, he crumbles under your touch, your gaze.

"My brother, he is naive to relationships," Seo-Yun informs you during a lunch meeting. "I noticed, Madam," you shrink under her gaze. How is it she has the same shade of eyes and hers are so, so, so cold?

"But he likes you, favours you I think is the word he used. He has never liked someone before. Not as strongly as this. I suppose I should advise you to take some caution."

"My brother's love comes with a storm of violence. It runs in the family, I'm afraid. Please, don't be frightened by his displays."

You didn't quite understand what she meant.

He'd never been violent to you. You had witnessed him kill before, torture, maim — it was not an unusual sight in your line of work.

You didn't understand until you saw it.

Another funeral, more drinks, more meat. Jeong-Hyun has you beside him, eagerly awaiting your metal chopsticks to place more grilled beef onto his plate.

No one laughs at the sight anymore, they treat you as an extension of Jeong-Hyun which, considering how he monopolies your time, you might as well be. It's rare to see you without him.

But as you got up to wash your hands — someone had spilled their drinks and your hand became sticky — an inebriated man had pressed himself against you.

"You must be a good lay if *hic* Jeong-Hyun-ssi keeps you around, riiight? C'mon, just a quickie, c'mon," "Fuck! Get away from me!"

Jeong-Hyun's hand grabs the back of the man's head, rears it backward, and slams it right into the sink. It shatters, the man yells, people around you scream; but Jeong-Hyun tightens his grip, rears his hand back, and slams him down again.

By the end of that public fiasco, the man's head was obliterated so badly, his face was no longer there. Just shredded skin, muscle, and shattered bone and brain matter.

Madam Seo-Yun's gaze on you is heavy in the car. Jeong-Hyun lumbers in, his hand covered with tissues and you immediately pull the bloody fist to your lap. Approval shines in her eyes as you apply pressure and ask if it hurts.

Well, you couldn't say she didn't warn you now, could you?

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #female yandere #male yandere

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whore-era · 2 years

Text

affinity - part 2

ellie williams x fem!reader

themes: angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love, love triangle

summary: after drunkenly confessing your love to your best friend of five years, you try to move on from her, but your best friend has other plans in mind.

a/n: i think this one is horrible, not my best writing, but the words were just flowin outtttt. this is also very dialogue heavy so my apologies if yall arent into that

word count: 4,204

2/3 | affinity - pt 1

taglist: @sawaagyapong @katiemars @friiida-xx @elorawrites @eringaitskill @helaenaswife @3lliesrifle @elliesconverses @koolguysyndrome @muthafuckingstargirl @whteflwcrs @j-money777 @jolieetoile @elliewilliamsmunch @frasersgf @rumirim @siesie2 @starhrtz @mcu-junkie @yookayyo @viswifetotallyreal @franreadss @catostrophiclesbian @parkersmyth @tweecunt @ilovebasketball3333 @bigmoodyjoody @silhxvette

was i in heaven?

the question pops into your brain, as you truly thought you’d be dead in a ditch after the number of drinks you had last night. you made a mental note to thank dina later today for putting an end to your drunken endeavors from the night before.

blinking your eyes open, your eyesight adjusting to your surroundings, you realize you are not in your own home at all. you’re at ellie’s, familiarizing yourself with her bedspread and decor. you sit up, wincing and holding your head, the pain throbbing in your skull at the sudden movement.

sitting up properly, you scan your surroundings and your eyes stop at the sleeping figure on the couch. ellie was fast asleep on the cushions with a thin blanket covering her body, chest rising and falling at every gentle breath.

in the past, you and ellie would have no issue sharing a bed and sleeping together, as you’ve both done it a thousand times before. you’d usually wake up first, and spend the morning staring at ellie sleeping, which you were thankful she never caught you doing or else she’d never let it go. you were always enticed by the way she looked while sleeping, she was out of her element and relaxed — different from her usual reckless personality.

now, ellie slept separately from you and you could only assume it was because of her new relationship with cat. closing your eyes and recounting the events from the day before, you shook off the tears forming in your eyes. god, so much for trying to forget about her.

standing up quietly, careful not to wake her up, you pull on your shoes and make your way towards the door, opening it slowly and exiting from her shed before gently closing it again. you let out a sigh of relief, beginning the walk back to your own house. shading your eyes away from the rising sun to decrease the intensity of your pounding headache, you lay out your plans for the day.

okay, so i definitely have to shower ‘cause i reek of booze, and then i have to get ready for patrol in an hour, and then- you stop in your tracks, remembering you had patrol today, patrol with ellie. smacking a hand over your forehead, you make a note to stop by the tipsy bison to talk to maria about switching partners.

making it to your house within minutes, you rush to the bathroom and peel your clothes off to shower. the feeling of the warm water hitting your skin and relaxing your muscles was incomparable. it was a small slice of self-care you look forward to every day, as privileges like showers during an apocalypse was something hard to come by.

cleansing the grime off your body, you step out of the shower and pull on some clothes for patrol — a long sleeve, jeans, a thick jacket, and a beanie. pulling on your boots and slinging on your backpack, you head out your door, remembering your keys this time, and make a beeline toward the bar.

jackson early in the morning was something you’ve grown to love when heading out for patrol. the way the rising sun peeked over the edge of the trees, waking up the rest of the town, it always set a positive tone for your day. it was certainly one of the second-best things about this town, number one being a girl named ellie williams.

entering the bar, the bell tinkling as you opened the door, maria turns and smiles once she sees it’s you.

“just the girl i was looking forward to seeing,” maria greets, holding her broom in one hand and holding out one arm. you smile and give maria a side hug, “g’morning,” you mumble.

“so, how was last night?” the older woman queries, and you let out a groan of embarrassment.

“don’t even remind me,” you beg, “i don’t wanna think about that at all, i’m still dealing with the consequences.” you rub your head, the throbbing still present.

“well, it certainly was a sight for sore eyes,” maria chuckles, “anyways, don’t you have patrol in—” she pauses to check her wristwatch, “thirty minutes?”

you nod, “that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about.”

“uh, oh. this can’t be good.”

“i just want to switch partners. please. put me with anyone. anyone but, ellie.”

maria sighed, “why? i mean, i’ll do it for you, but why?”

“i just don’t think i can be around her anymore. ellie’s my best friend, well was, and i don’t wanna get in the way of anything,” you say, choking back tears, attempting to distract yourself by fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of your shirt.

the older woman peered her eyes at you, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “okay, fine. you can be partnered up with jesse and ellie with dina.”

you let out a breath of relief, “thank you, maria. i owe yo-“

“on one condition.”

you narrow your eyes at her, suspicious of what her condition entailed, “….okay.”

“try talking to ethan. i think you both would be good together.”

“ethan? the stableboy?”

maria nods, “yup. talked to him yesterday and he may or may not have a small crush on you. poor kid was blabbering on about how badass and brave you are for going on patrol and all that shit, and that you’re real pretty doing it all.”

you let out a laugh, cheeks flushing red, “okay, sure. i’ll— uh— give him a chance.”

bidding maria goodbye and heading towards the front gates for patrol, you couldn’t help but think of what she said. ethan? the shy stableboy? crushing on you? you were flattered to say the least.

shaking your thoughts off, you make it to the stables and walk over to sunshine. ethan was already there, securing her saddles and brushing her brown coat.

“good morning,” you greet, approaching him. he lifts his head up in surprise, a smile settling on his face once he realizes it's you.

“oh hey, good morning,” he says in a sweet voice, “she’ll be ready in a few, just getting her all ready for you.”

“no, no— uh— take your time,” you sputter out, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to rush you or anything. just wanted to say hi.”

what the hell was this? the 5th grade? why did you suddenly feel nervous talking to this guy? ethan smiles at you, a dimple poking out from his cheek. was that always there?

“no worries,” he says coolly, “i’m glad you came over here. was hoping to see off the prettiest girl in jackson.”

your cheeks are warm and your face is red. is it getting hot in here?

from the corner of your eye, you see jesse, giving you the perfect excuse to escape from ethan to calm down a bit.

“i’ll be right back, i-i just need to talk to jesse.” you walk off quickly before he had the chance to see the tomato that was your face.

approaching jesse, you poke him on the back and he quickly turns around, preparing to sucker-punch the person who dares sneak up on him from behind.

“well, if it isn’t the little monster.” he gives you a cheeky smile, letting his fists fall down at his sides.

you roll your eyes, “please, i don’t even wanna know how you came up with that nickname,” you breathe out, “anyways, we’re patrol partners now.”

“says who?”

“says me.”

jesse rolls his eyes as you let out a laugh, and joel and tommy gather the rest of the group to make some announcements and set the agenda for the day. from your peripheral, you see ellie appear a few feet away from you, adjusting her jacket and backpack. she probably overslept, evident from her disheveled clothes and her hurried state.

the two brothers dismiss everyone to leave for patrol, and you see ethan walking towards you with sunshine. he hands you her leads, brushing his hands against yours.

“see you after patrol?” he asks smiling at you, his dimple popping out again as he tilts his head to the side a bit. how cute.

“yeah, definitely,” you smile and he nods, putting his hands in his pockets and walking back toward the stables. when he disappears from your view, you see dina speaking to ellie, causing her to turn and look your way.

you quickly turn away, praying she didn’t catch you staring. as you and jesse leave for patrol, you couldn’t help the forming pit in your stomach, hoping that you made the right decision.

that’s how the next three days went. you avoided talking to ellie, you talked to ethan at the stables, and you spent your time patrolling with jesse, which was mayhem in itself, but you tried to focus on the upside of it all.

however, ellie was growing annoyed by the second, fed up with you doing everything in your power to avoid her.

“it’s like we weren’t best friends for years!” ellie vented out, the sound of the snow crunching beneath her boots as she strolled alongside dina, giving the horses a break.

“granted, she was in love with you for almost the entire duration of your friendship,” dina commented.

ellie glared at her, “yea, but still— she could’ve talked to me or some shit. instead, she ignores me.”

deep down inside, ellie felt guilty. blaming everything on herself for how things turned out. even though you never did admit your feelings directly, while sober, she should’ve seen the signs. ellie could only imagine how you felt— constantly having the person you loved for years telling you about their own romantic pursuits. it made sense why you took off the day she told you she was planning to ask cat to be her girlfriend, you were hurt.

“it’s fine, ellie,” dina attempts to reassure, “besides, i’m sure she’ll be over it by the end of the week.”

“wait— what do you mean?” ellie stopped walking, hanging onto every word that dina was saying.

“well- you know- um,” the darker-haired brunette stutters, “how would you feel seeing her with someone else?”

fire ignited in ellie’s veins, anger flowing through every vessel in her body. what the fuck? was this your solution? using some other person to get over your feelings for her? were you actually fucking serious?

“what are you saying, dina?” her fists begin to ball up, restraining the urge to punch a nearby tree trunk.

dina’s eyes widened, realizing there was no hiding the secret now as ellie would’ve definitely found out sooner or later. ellie was perceptive and persistent, and would’ve bugged everybody in town if it meant finding out the truth about someone making plans to date you.

“so, this is a funny story,” dina laughs nervously, “a little birdie told me that they set one of the stable boys up with her.”

if you squinted your eyes and looked close enough, you could see the smoke coming out from ellie’s ears. she was infuriated.

“who?”

“ethan.”

“christ! fuckin’ ethan?” ellie yelled out in frustration, dina in the background grimacing from the sudden increase of volume in her tone.

“keep it down, will you? you’re gonna attract every clicker within a five-mile radius,” dina snapped, gaining another glare from those green eyes.

“ugh,” ellie groaned, “this is a mess.”

“why does it even matter? you’re with cat, doesn’t this make everything easier actually?” dina asks, “the possibility of her being with someone else?”

ellie’s chest tightened. the very idea of you being with someone stirred something inside her guts. maybe it was the thought of them seeing your smile every day that made her sick to her stomach, or seeing you laugh til’ your belly hurt when you watched your favorite 90’s sitcom shows on VHS. it could also be the notion of someone holding you close when you watch the first edition of ‘nightmare on elm street’ because you get terrified every time you watch it that made her want to puke or — was it thinking about someone seeing the intimate parts of your body that did it instead?

“i-i don’t know, okay?” ellie says, “and, i’m not with cat.” she clarifies, hoisting herself back onto shimmer’s saddle.

“huh? but didn’t you tell-”

“i know what i said, but i’m not with cat.” ellie cuts dina off before she had a chance to interject again, “it’s time to head back. c’mon.”

the journey back to jackson was painful for ellie, for she wanted nothing more than to see you and talk to you. every minute she was apart from you, she imagined ethan trying to win you over, swooning you with his corny jokes and suave pick-up lines. god, she was gonna be nauseous if she thought about that horse-boy one more time.

making it back in due time, ellie and dina entered through the tall, wooden gates. ellie was quick on her feet and rushed off to find you, seeing that you were already back from patrol and that you were walking into the garden — your favorite path to cut through.

ellie calls you out by your name, making you turn around but once you recognized who was calling for you, you cursed under your breath and walked faster.

“hey!” ellie yells out, “i need to talk to you!”

your feet pick up the pace, angering her even more. just as you were about to pass the bushels of purple hydrangeas, you felt a hand yank onto yours.

“stop runnin’ away from me! will you?” ellie breathes out, winded from having to chase after you.

“sorry— i, uh—” you weren’t sure what to say, “i just had a long day.”

ellie stares at you for a moment, “bullshit. why the hell do you keep fucking avoiding me?”

you took your bottom lip between your teeth, a telltale sign of your anxiety forming, and if you didn’t look so damn gorgeous doing that surrounded by all the flowers, ellie swore she would’ve fallen to her knees and begged for your forgiveness right then and there.

“i just— i made a decision that was necessary for our friendship.”

you couldn’t look her in the eyes, knowing all the feelings you’ve managed to push to the back of your brain would come flooding back and the butterflies would flutter about in your belly again and your heart would pick up like you just finished laps around a football field.

“so, that’s it?” ellie’s voice is laced with bitterness, “we just forget about those five years?”

you stay silent, eyes focusing on the layer of snow covering the ground beneath your feet.

“you know, you can’t just fucking tell someone you’re in love with them and— and never speak to them again!”

your ears perked up, “what are you talking about?”

“that night,” ellie walks closer to you, “that night you were drunk, you told me you were in love with me.”

fear settles into your body and you didn’t know what to say at that point.

“that’s why i never went through with it. asking cat to be my girlfriend.”

you drag your eyes up, looking at her, and your brows draw together in confusion, “why not?”

now it was ellie’s turn to be tongue-tied, “i-i don’t kno—wait, this isn’t about me!”

“what is this even about, els?” the way the nickname you had for her rolled off your tongue was enough to turn ellie williams into a puddle. it was unorthodox how ellie’s body reacted to every single thing you did, did this always happen or did she just now notice this?

“so, it’s true then? you’re in love with me?”

you hesitated before responding, unsure how she would react to your answer, “it doesn’t matter.”

“why not?”

“because my feelings don’t— they don’t matter,” you reply, irritation growing apparent in your tone, “what matters to me is that you’re alive and healthy and happy, even if it means you being with someone else.”

ellie’s chest felt like it weighed 500 tons. she didn’t know what to do. she wanted to cry, she wanted to envelop you in her arms, she wanted to brush the hair from your face and hold your cheeks in her hands, she wanted to yell at you and tell you that your feelings were just as important and that your wellbeing mattered too.

but she stayed put, allowing her emotions to get the best of her.

“and what about you? are you happy with ethan, huh? does he make you happy?” a devious smirk creeping on her face with a subtle mocking inflection in her words.

“that’s not fair, ellie—”

how she fucking hated it when you said her full name. to you, she was els. your els.

“how?!”

“becaus—” you were about to rip one into her, releasing your true, unearthed feelings that were bottled up over five years, but you felt your hand knock into someone’s nose as you had this horrid habit of talking with your hands when you were extremely emotional.

“auggghh!” ethan groaned out in pain, holding his nose in agony.

“oh my god! ethan!” you rush over to him, putting your hands on his face to get a look at the damage. streams of crimson flowed down his nostrils, dripping down to his shirt.

“i’m so sorry!” you apologized, and the boy attempted to smile but cringed instead.

ellie rolled her eyes, “no, she’s not.” she muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, inciting a glare from you.

“don’t worry about it. it’s fine,” ethan said, his voice sounding congested, “i should’ve made myself known before approaching you, but i came here because i wanted to ask you to dinner tonight— with me, at the diner.”

ellie watched the smile grow on your face and the faded pink fan across your cheeks, and suddenly the world went silent, your lips mouthing the words ‘yes’. watching you wrap your arms around ethan and guiding him towards the infirmary, ellie couldn’t help the lump forming in the back of her throat — wishing it was her taking you out to dinner instead. but she had to stand back and watch you with someone else, a habit you knew all too well.

ellie williams never considered herself a heavy drinker. she was more of a social drinker at most, only drinking one or two beers maximum when there were the usual parties and get-togethers in town. but when you force yourself to watch the girl you love laugh at some smelly horse-boy’s jokes, you needed all the alcohol you can get.

hearing your laugh resonate through the air, ellie took another swig of bourbon, the spicy liquor burning her throat.

“what the fuck could he be saying that’s so funny? huh?” ellie spat, the glass banging on the table, provoking a flinch from jesse and dina.

“well, he’s actually kind of—” dina’s cut off by the incandescent scowl from her penetrating green eyes, “yea, no, he’s terrible.”

ellie’s head couldn’t grasp what you saw in ethan. were you attracted to his looks? he’s a 6.5 at best, is 5’6, and he’s slim. he’s also nice and friendly. but surely, ellie was better.

she knew she was more attractive, at 5’7 with a fit physique from all those hours training in combat and getting in her workout during patrol. she also was kind, funny, and intelligent. however, ellie knew she would be better for you than ethan. she knew you like the back of her hand, she could protect you far better than he could if a situation were to arise, and she could make you feel good, in more ways than one.

which is why when she spotted you and ethan preparing to leave, she knew this was her opportunity to get you alone, and also to cock-block him so he doesn’t end up trying to make a move and kiss you — an idea that immediately made her see red.

“where you goin’ this time?” jesse asks, noticing ellie stand up, taking one last gulp of that liquid courage.

“to get my girl back.”

jesse and dina looked at each other, mouthing a quiet ‘finally’ as ellie marched out the door, hoping she could catch up to you and horse-boy.

spotting you and ethan strolling down the trail, she catches sight of ethan’s hand trailing up to the small of your back.

do not fucking touch her.

ellie calls out your name, causing you and ethan to turn around and stop in their tracks. slowly jogging towards you, “hey, can i talk to you?” she breathes out, winded from her slow run, “alone.”

“um, sure.”

ellie glares at ethan, and as ethan prepares to but in, insisting he can stay nearby, your hand gently touches his arm, “i’ll see you tomorrow bright and early before i leave for patrol. okay?”

ethan reluctantly nods, “okay,” and he leans in to peck your cheek, “goodnight.” he gives ellie one last look, throwing a smirk her way before he leaves the two of you alone.

god, ellie never wanted to beat someone’s ass so badly.

her anger quickly falters once she glances at you again, looking beautiful as ever in your beanie and scarf with your cheeks all red and rosy from the chilly air.

you clear your throat, snapping her out of her thoughts. “here, i’ll— uh— walk you home.”

as you both begin your slow stroll, the tension is awkward and silent. you both didn’t know what to say. after a couple minutes of walking in this god-awful silence, ellie speaks up first, “so. how’s it going with ethan?”

“ellie, please. if you’re trying to be sarcastic—”

“no, no, i’m not,” ellie scratches the back of her neck, “i’m seriously asking. not trying to be a smartass or start an argument or anything.”

you let out a heavy sigh, “he’s nice…and he’s friendly.” you weren’t sure what else to say about him. you didn’t know him that well yet and you didn’t want to admit to her that you didn’t think he was all that cute anyways, despite the dimple.

“yeah? you like him?”

silence filled the air. you wanted to be careful with what you were going to say next, but ellie had a way to make you feel comfortable enough to open up about things you didn’t want to talk about. it was easy to talk to her because you knew she was actually listening.

“it’s not that easy to get over you, you know?” you murmur quietly, but you could tell ellie picked up on what you said. “i feel guilty for— i guess using him as a rebound, to get over what i felt for you.”

“what did you feel for me?”

you scoff, “seriously, els? you’re gonna make me say it?” ellie couldn’t help but smile at the way her nickname sounded leaving your lips. “i had a lot of feelings for you. i mean— we were best friends and you were on my mind all the time. you made my head hurt when i thought about you too much and when i was around you i got those cheesy butterflies in my stomach that people in the movies talk about.” you couldn’t help the small smile that mindlessly crept on your lips when you talked about this, and ellie couldn’t help but feel dumb for not realizing how she felt sooner.

“why didn’t you ever say anything?”

you shrugged, “i didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship and lose you. our friendship meant the world to me,” you looked down, fiddling with your shirt again as anxiety built up inside you, “and besides, it seemed like you never saw me anything more than a friend. i was never gonna be that girl. it was always someone else.”

ellie’s thoughts were running rampant, wanting to say all these things to you and tell you that you were wrong and that you are the girl for her. she wanted to beg on her knees and say she was sorry that she didn’t realize how she felt sooner, and that she was only using other girls to compensate for the fact that she couldn’t have you. but nothing came out.

approaching the front door, you take your key out from your jean pocket. “well, goodnight, els. i’ll see you tomorrow?”

once more, everything in the world went quiet and all ellie saw was you. you were standing in front of her, so clearly. the small details of your face illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light made you look like an angel sent from above. ellie knew she didn’t deserve you, after everything you’ve been through, after all the hurt she caused for you; but she was dumb if she thought she going to let you go so easily. ellie had to fight for you and she didn’t give a fuck who was in her way.

in one, swift move, ellie wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you in to press her lips against yours.

affinity - part 3 here

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie x reader angst #ellie x fem!reader

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proqhetic · 6 months

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I'm so happy you're back!! I missed your yj posts on my fyp :(

could you write lottie x reader where they're at a party and the reader is tipsy, begging lottie to give her kisses, and lottie is just trying to put her to bed, thank you <333

a/n: i’m gonna cry dani ilysm😭😭 i got a bit carried away with this so im sorry if it seems kind of choppy 😥

the loud bass blaring from the speakers across the house was starting to give you a headache. you were a couple drinks in and the booze was just catching up to your system, swirling all your thoughts into one big whirlpool.

it’s been a long night of talking to random people and singing along to chart toppers from about 5 years ago. right now, you just wanted to find your girlfriend, really badly. you lost lottie at some point earlier in the night when she was pulled away by one of the other yellowjackets to play a drinking game with the rest of the team, and you hung out with some other friends from school.

navigating the sweaty, rowdy crowd was just awful. you were pretty sure this was practically the entire student population from your school, crammed into jeff sadecki’s stupidly big house. after squeezing past a couple rooms, you finally set your eyes on a familiar head of brunette curls.

you stopped in the doorway and watched on as lottie was zoomed in on an intense game of beer bong. she made that face she does when she’s concentrating — eyebrows furrowed, biting her bottom lip, the slight squint of her eyes. you couldn’t help but smile from the sidelines as she aimed the winning shot, and of course, she made it. a mixture of groans and loud whooping filled the room, as lottie happily turned to her teammate, shauna, and gave her a solid high-ten.

despite not drinking anything else, you somehow feel giddier than you did 5 minutes ago. but connecting the dots would’ve required too much brain power. instead, you stumble over to lottie and wrap her in a warm hug from behind. “congrats, babe!” you wish her with a grin, speaking louder than you thought you were in your head.

lottie yelps but an immediate smile appears once she sees you. “hi baby!” she greets, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, before her face contorts into a grimace. “oh, god, you smell of booze. how much have you drunk?”

lottie wasn’t typically one to drink a lot at parties, she wasn’t a big fan of the taste of beer. chances were you’d catch her smoking something instead.

“uhhm, like, just a bit…” you slurred out with an airy giggle, to which lottie groaned (affectionately). “i think you’ve had enough, we should get going soon, okay?” she said, pulling you aside by the arm. you whined at that, not wanting to leave so early. “nnooo, lottieee…” “come on, let’s get you sobered up a bit.”

whilst the two of you were walking to the kitchen hand in hand, you tried tiptoeing to give lottie another kiss, only to trip on an armchair in front of you and lose your balance. thankfully, your girlfriend has an insane reaction time and managed to catch you. “are you okay?” she hurriedly asked, pulling you up. “wanna kiss youu…!” was all you said with a cheeky smile. “no kisses until you’re sobered up!” lottie spoke firmly and you pouted the rest of the way there.

she pours you a glass of water and tells you to drink up. “mm, kiss first?” lottie rolled her eyes at how persistent you’re being, but eventually caved and gave you a peck on your cheek. “that’s all you’re getting. now drink up and we can leave!” content with what you got, you obliged and drank everything.

a moment passes and both of you stay standing, leaned against the kitchen island. lottie reaches over to brush your hair with her hand, strands getting entangled between her fingers. you turn to look up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, begging her once again for a kiss. “pleaseee, i’m not drunk anymore…” however, she was strong-willed enough to shake her head. “let’s get you home baby, you gotta rest.”

the drive back to your house was a comfortable silence, until you started mumbling along to the song on the radio, extremely out of tune. eliciting a laugh out of lottie made you grin and filled you with a sense of pride, that same giddiness overwhelming you

“alrighty, we’re here.” she announced as she parked the car. she hurriedly got out and came to the other side of the car to open your door and help you out. (you’ve proven several times that night that walking in a straight line would be a challenge.)

reaching your doorstep, you realised lottie would have to leave soon, and she’s only properly kissed you once. “do you wanna, maybe stay the night? my parents aren’t home and… i could use the company,” you asked, your fingers tracing up and down her arm. lottie’s face grew warm at your request, “really? i-i mean, yeah, of course!”

lottie’s hand reached for the doorknob, but you stopped her. “wait!” she turned to look at you, her big eyes widening in confusion. “can i have my kiss now?” you asked one last time. “pleeasseee?”

the corners of lottie’s lips quirked upwards as she let out a soft giggle. “fine, since you’ve been so patient with me tonight,” she murmured as she cupped your cheeks and finally gave you that kiss you’ve been yearning for all night. you instantly melted into it and rested your hands on her shoulders, pulling her in even closer

“there.” lottie said breathlessly as you two pulled away for air. you felt lightheaded and just stared back at her, dazed. “now let’s get you to bed.”

#danisbrainrot #lottie things 💭#lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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davinashifts333 · 8 months

Text

THE SECRET AFFAIR (Jason DiLaurentis x Liar!Reader):

⚫️summary; one year after Alison’s disappearance everything in Rosewood went haywire. Y/n, Aria’s maternal cousin & now 1/5 of the remaining Liars, who had either an equal amount or possibly even more secrets than her childhood friends, had been dating her now presumed dead best friend’s brother. That’s right, since before the summer of Alison’s disappearance Y/n & Jason had secretly been hooking up & began officially dating due to her helping him sober up & help him through his toughest nights that now gloomed over his past. She was his main alibi for the night everything happened with Alison but, obviously couldn’t tell anyone why she was with him. So why now, that they’re finally putting Alison to rest does it all go to shit? Because the whole town believes one of the liars did it.

⚠️warnings; swearing, age gap relationship (Y/n is the same age as the girls but one of the oldest, so 5-6 years younger than Jason), adult themes, murder, gore-ish?, PLL shit dude, it’s crazy, 18+ ONLY!

•

Y/N’s POV (the night of Ali’s disappearance)

I woke up with a blazing headache to my phone ringing a very specific tone that had become all too familiar. Jason. Thunder rolled in as lightning flashed the barn awake. The text from Jason saying to meet him at our spot which was a small bench in the woods behind his house. I head over, carefully leaving the barn door ajar so the girls won’t wake up when I come back but, I notice i’m not the only one who had planned to escape. Ali was gone and so was Spencer. I brushed the thought from my mind as I remember Jason’s text,

‘Garrett and Ian brought over some weed and I have the shakes now, meet up? I’m freaking out. Be safe. xx’

Jason had been trying to get clean, key word, trying. His friend group wasn’t as lenient as I was though, every now and then I had to help clean him up and sleep through the high or drunken daze. He wasn’t the best at being drunk believe it or not, he got drowsier than me after smelling the fumes when filling my car up with gas. Regardless, Jason was there for me when my dad left to hunt down my mom’s murderer. Yeah, Aria is my cousin, our moms are sisters.. Well.. Were.. That was until one night in the winter of 1998. I woke up after hearing glass shatter and walked down stairs, all I remember seeing was a shadow of a tall man standing over my mother’s body. Since then, I’ve lived with my aunt Ella and her family. Jason was our neighbor from down the street and Aria knew Alison, so obviously I knew them too. He always told me that death brought new life and my new life I had to live in honor of my mom. We clicked from then on. Of course being older he always taunted us girls and would do the typical big brother things to Ali. But one night when I was 14, I kissed him. He was shocked at first but then admitted he always liked me best out of Ali’s friends. The only bad thing was, Alison saw us kiss. She held it over my head like a looming sword on the thinnest of threads, threatening to tell her parents that Jason tried to force himself on me. Which obviously was a lie but who would they believe. Little did she know, I had secrets of hers to shoot back with so, we bonded in that way. A battle for dominance as one might call it. But nonetheless we were best friends, and secrets so keep us together.

I walk up to the bench hearing the crunching of leaves coming from the opposite direction, they staggered a bit and I saw Jason stumbling towards me, tripping on a rock and landing right on top of me.

‘Shit, sorry babe. I guess drunk me has two left feet.’ I giggled at his comment as we sat up, backs against the trunk of the tree that stood tall above our bench.

‘Who bought it this time?’ I asked, changing the subject back to the issue at hand. Jason then took position on my lap, my hands running through his hair. He sighed.

‘Ian. As always. But Garrett also brought booze. You know I can’t resist a nice cold beer. Those two idiots are probably still up in my room thinking I passed out somewhere. How was your sleepover?’ I rubbed his temples, knowing he got headaches when he drank.

‘It was okay, had some drinks too, courtesy of your sister. Hanna and Emily knocked out first and well you kno-.’ Suddenly the sound of someone walking by caught our attention. Jason shot up and stumbled a bit before helping me up. I held his waist to help him gain balance and he whispered to me to head back to the barn. That we’d talk the next day. With a swift kiss goodbye we went our separate ways. But, just as I got back to the door of the barn I heard a scream. I quickly made my way inside to see Emily, Hanna and Aria still asleep. Gladly I didn’t get caught by Spencer or Ali. I went back to my place on the large ottoman and curled up, hoping for Jason to have gotten back in one piece. He wasn’t as drunk or high as other times but, he still could continue through the night or worse, be pressured by Ian. God, I hated his “friends”. They only enabled him to fail at sobriety and I knew the truth behind their little club. Ian started it all with Jason when Ian took a photo of the girls and I in Emily’s bedroom. Creep.

An hour or so went by and I couldn’t sleep with all the thoughts running in my mind but, I kept my eyes shut. Spencer had come back but seemed a bit off, her breathing was ragged and stuffy. Like she had been crying or running. I wondered if Ali had gone back home or if she was coming back but, my question was answered when a loud crack of thunder woke us all up. Emily and Hanna huddled together while Aria “woke” me up.

‘Damn Y/n/n. You sure can sleep through anything.’ Spencer joked trying to lighten the mood and we all slightly laughed.

‘Where’s Alison?’ I finally asked and Spencer spoke up.

‘I think I heard a scream.’

That night marked a huge change in our lives and seeing how things were, my Uncle Byron and Aunt Ella decided it would be best to move to Iceland for a while, to get away. But now that we were back, things seemed way different. I hadn’t heard from Jason much after Ali’s disappearance. We kept in tough but after I was forced to move across the world, we decided it was best to be apart. I hoped he stayed sober but, I also knew the loss of his sister was taking a toll on him.

Aria and I had begun to unpack when Mike announced he was hungry. So Aria and I took my car that my mom had when she was my age, to a little dive bar/restaurant near Hollis College to get some burgers. When I waited for our order, Aria snuck off with this really cute guy who was apparently studying to be an English teacher. I let her have some fun while I contemplated texting Jason. Low and behold I folded.

‘Hey, I know it’s been a while since we last spoke but I figured a check in from our old spot in Rosewood could be cool? I just got back today and could sneak away from Aria for a few. If you’re up for it. Hope you’re doing well. xx.’

He read it almost instantly as if he had known I was thinking of texting him.

‘Welcome back to hell. I can meet you there in 10?’ I felt my heart skip a beat at the thought of seeing Jason after a whole year and quickly shot Aria a text letting her know what I was doing. During our time in Iceland I confessed to her about Jason and I secretly dating to which she was impressed but mainly saddened by and even wrote a modern day Romeo and Juliet based off of us. It was sweet, Jason had even liked it when I read it to him on one of our phone calls early on. He also felt proud that I was able to trust someone enough to talk about him with.

I drove the 10 minutes to the last secluded park where we had to start meeting after our bench had been compromised by the investigation and waited. A few minutes went by and I heard a knock on my car window. I shut it off and climbed out. He looked good, way better than he did when I left. Healthier, a bit more put together and like his face was hurting from smiling so much.

‘I don’t remember you being this bubbly. Are you sure you’re Jason DiLaurentis?’ I joked and he pulled me in for a hug. His signature cologne engulfed me in the most comforting way.

‘No more red streaks in your hair, you’ve grown up. You sure you’re Y/N Y/L/N?’ He responded and I playfully punch his arm. We walked over to the picnic table and sat down. We talked for what felt like hours but in reality was about half an hour until Aria texted me saying she had the food and was getting dropped off at home. I responded with an excuse she could give her parents and she said she’d have my back. I came back to the conversation at hand and decided to ask the big question.

‘Sorry about that, Aria was just letting me know she’d cover for me back at home. So, truth. How are you?’ I asked, his eyes saddening a bit knowing what I meant.

‘Well, i’m sober. A whole 9 months now. Still dealing with the whole Ali missing thing and just graduated from College. You?’ I felt his hand playing with my rings on mine and sighed.

‘Well, about to start Junior year of High School, still dealing with the whole Ali missing thing and now very proud of this guy I used to date. He was a bit of a mess when I left our hometown so, you know. Surviving.’ He chuckled nodding as I ended my response.

‘He was very broken up. I mean come on, not being able to see your gorgeous face for that long? It was criminal. Poor guy was torn up enough already. You just added to the mix.’ I took notice of how true his comment was, I had left him in a vulnerable moment.

‘Well, I tried to keep in contact with him but, didn’t know how else to help, I was grieving too. Just grieving in a different way and grieving him as well.’ He lifted my chin to meet my gaze.

‘You don’t have to grieve anymore love. He’s never given up that one day you’d make your way back to him. Believe me. He even thought about how if you didn’t come back soon, he’d have to go to Iceland to find you.’ His hand now cupping my cheek as my eyes glazed over with tears. Alison always did tell me she loved how I helped Jason become more human in her eyes. She had seen a change in him from when we started dating.

‘Well, I thought he would hate me for leaving. I know I had no choice but, I still wished I could’ve been there to help him, like always.’

‘Baby, listen to yourself. You were always there helping me. Even when you had to go. You called every day, texted all day long, checked in when you could. You did your part, it was just time for me to do mine and let you move on. I just hoped that if we really were meant to keep going, you’d eventually come back to me.’ At this point I was fully crying and listening to his grief and love pour out of him.

‘I did hound my Aunt Ella everyday in hopes of us coming back sooner. And look at us now. I don’t want to move on, I want us, I want to grow in life with you Jason. I wanna see you be the person you always dreamt of becoming and to let the past stay in the past, all the mistakes were just bumps in the road. You took control of your life, focused on yourself and I couldn’t be happier for you. You deserved to be free from those assholes you called friends.’ He placed his forehead to mine and pulled me into his lap.

‘Can I kiss you now? I’m dying over here.’ He whispered and I laughed nodding. At that moment, we were in bliss. Not knowing what was yet to come and how insanely twisted our lives would soon become. After our reunion we agreed on meeting up as much as we could and even heading to Philly for date nights. However until I turned 18, we had to stay under the radar for a bit. It was all rose colored glasses until the first text from -A. It was a picture of me in Jason’s lap and a whole album of pictures of us before Ali went missing. Who could’ve possibly gotten these?

•

A/N: HIIII! IM BACK ON MY DELULU SHIT & HAVE FALLEN BACK INTO MY CHILDHOOD COMFORT SHOW PLL. LMK IF I SHOULD MAKE THIS A SERIES OR NOT, ALSO LMK WHAT ELSE YOU’D WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT! LOVE YOU GUYS & HAPPY 2024!! 🩷🩷🩷

#davinashifts333 #jason dilaurentis #pretty little liars #pll #pll girls #plledit #pll rewatch #pretty little liars x reader #spencer hastings #aria montgomery #emily fields #alison dilaurentis #hanna marin #jason dilaurentis x reader #jason dilaurentis x y/n #pll aesthetic #plldaily #pll cast #pll icons

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ellabsweet · 1 year

Text

[ੈ✩] 𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 • 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐒

synopsis: in which you’re fooled.

pairing: rockstar!ellie x reader x rockstar!abby

warning: mentions of cheating and drug usage but i believe that is all ! let me know in case there’s anything i just wanted to put this out already because of the traction this is getting which is making me sososo happy thank you everyone i love you <3

authors note: ——

← previous part | next part →

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐑.𝐈.𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇

approximately two years earlier…

“Who’s the pretty girl?” Ellie asks after snorting a line of powder from the small bathroom’s sink, a banging to the door from an urgent adult being dismissed by her and the dealer.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that”

“Oh c’mon you know the one. Sad eyes girl who watched the whole show from her seat at the bar like we were a band worth shit, like we’re going to be someday”

“They call her bunny around here. ‘Cause you know, a cute shell for a sex addict, y’know some misogynistic shit. She’s a regular to all The Deadbeats show on this shitty bar, you only want to fuck her now? Get on some fan service?”

“You’re fucking gross, man. I just digged her vibe, is all”

What Ellie meant by that was, she saw her soul reflected in your eyes and it scared her shitless but not enough to go untouched by the exchange, drowning in curiosity and magnetism the drugs made sure to intensify your face in her mind as though a printed sticker inside her brain. What Ellie meant was, she thought God was a girl with sad eyes and skimpy top watching her band in the corner of a loud bar piercing right through her like a Heaven and Hell collision midst a guitar riff.

Daniel took one last sniff of cocaine before he slammed the door open, the yell in his throat setting off a headache in Ellie: “Bunny! Come meet your rockstar!”

“I like your songs-“

“We’re gonna get married” You errupt in laughter with that, the sad eyes Ellie had attatched to the memory of you suddenly disappearing in bright amusement, she felt as though she could use your happiness as a new kind of high “I’m not joking, I would carry you in my arms straight into a chapel right now”

“Does that line usually work with the girls you go for?”

“I don’t know, you’re the first I tried it on. Is it endearing enough to convince you to elope?”

“You know every single person in this goddamn bar wants to get in your pants after that guitar riff, right?”

“I’m gonna be fully honest with you right now. I’m fucked out of my goddamn mind today, if I stare at you too long from the mix I took you’re gonna start having two heads and still I might dig it. But God, even then you look so fucking sad”

“Jesus” you scoff “alright junkie well I’m gonna go now-“

“You look so fucking sad and I see you. It’s like I’m seeing an angel cry, like I’m watching God in a party outfit wandering around and listening to my band, like a little bunny eyed daydream fucking painting on a museum wall that makes critics bawl into tears listen, shit, what I’m saying is you’re a fucking tsunami and I feel like I’m flooding and we haven’t even kissed and you don’t even seem to like me all that much right now but when I was up there?” Ellie pointed at the stage “You felt it too. My lyrics. You felt my stuff I know you did, like some soulmate shit like you feel my pain too like we’re both just trying too damn hard. I’m not insane yet, you’re something let me be something to you, I think I can be”

You didn’t answer her. You just kissed. Crashed your lips into her like you were coming up for air because something in your booze made something about her nonsense make sense. You thought you saw her in a dream when she first went up on stage, thought her to be one of those blurry faces in good nights of sleep that passed right through you, familiar in a mystical sense, in the stupidest way. Her lips on yours tasted of pure alcohol and it made you dizzy, weak in the knees. She knew her way around your body, waist and neck like a map engraved itself to the palm of her hands and you melted straight to them.

For two months you believed she was right that day, onto something. Talked about grief and music and love and death and space and leace and thought you knew her forever. Then The Deadbeats got more traction, moved to the spotlight. Then you caught her fucking a fan in the studio.

“All of Ellie’s girls think they’re special”

“Listen Abigail I don’t want to fucking hear it so you can fuck right off” You grabbed your bag, tears prickling in your eyes as you did so before the blonde grabbed hold of your shoulder, instinctively having you look back at her, perhaps the first time you truly looked at her all this time.

“But you really are.”

taglist: @abbysvictim @lottiematthewsceo @sadeyedsugar @digit4lslut @r0ckgoblin @machetegirl109 @scatapple @elliesgirlll @madelynie @emothurman @p1llowthoughtss @scottstre3ted @thatonementallyillsimp @rockyroad-is-bomb @spaceshipellie @toesorhoes @callmewhenyoukan comment to be added!

#ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #the last of us fanfiction #lesbian #ellabs x reader #ellie williams #abby anderson #ellie williams fanfic #abby anderson fanfic

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j2h5b5 · 2 years

Text

There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.

“We need you,” she said.

He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.

***

Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.

“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.

But now.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”

“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”

“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”

“Not here.”

“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are the others here?”

“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”

“Okay, that’s it.”

Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.

“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.

Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.

“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”

“They don’t even know what—”

“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”

This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.

“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”

“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! What are you saying?”

Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”

“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”

“You’re not shutting down my party.”

“Then we talk here.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”

Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.

He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”

“Hit me back.”

“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”

“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.

Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.

“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”

Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”

“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.

Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.

It’s my fault.

He’s dead because of me.

I couldn’t save him.

You loved him, I know you did.

Why don’t you hate me?

Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.

“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”

And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.

“You loved him, I know you did.”

With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.

#stranger things #found family #protective steve harrington #mama steve #dustin henderson #fanfiction #steddie #mom steve harrington #steve harrington #steve and his children #grieving over Eddie #survivor guilt #poor dustin #poor steve #unhealthy coping mechanisms #arm wrestling for the blame #angst #oh the angst #in my heart Eddie survived but this scene wouldn’t leave me alone

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absurdthirst · 9 months

Text

Dieter's Daughter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7k

Warnings: Dad!Dieter, mentions of drug use, unplanned pregnancies, freaking out, mentions of foster care, anxiety, lactation kink, babies, domestic bliss, falling in love, sudden marriage proposals, Dieter being a sap, adult breast feeding, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, vaginal sex, pregnancy

Comments: When a baby is dropped off on Dieter's doorstep, he is completely out of his element and doesn't know what to do. Attending a single mother support group meeting, he finds you. Begging you to become a nanny to his daughter.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

It takes several minutes for the sounds of the doorbell peeling insistently to break through Dieter’s nearly catatonic state. Too much booze and too many pills are the result of another day of discontent and wishing that there was something other than numbness of life for him. Leaving him grumbling when one eye pops open and he groans when the cotton mouth and headache hits him. “Go away.” He huffs, knowing that there is no way that whoever is at the damn door would hear him all the way in his bedroom. Hell, the only reason he hears the doorbell is because it’s wired to the sound system in the house. Again the bell rings and like the dead rising from the grave, Dieter drags himself out of the safety and comfort of his bed. “Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!” The bathrobe he had tossed down last night is put over his boxers and he shuffles towards the stairs as fast as his lethargic body can go.

When Dieter opens the door, he’s shocked to see a woman standing there holding a baby. “Can I help you?” He asks, rubbing his eyes, and she snorts.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asks and Dieter squints, “am I supposed to?”

She laughs humorlessly, “I shouldn’t be surprised, you could barely remember my name that night. I was just amazed that a big actor wanted to fuck me. Remember me? That cocktail waitress from the club you took home about ten months ago?” She says and Dieter scratches his neck.

“Listen lady, I sleep with a lot of people. It’s hard to remember them all.” He admits with zero qualms.

“Wow. You’re a fucking asshole. Anyway, I guess the condom broke because congrats, you’re a daddy. It’s a girl. Her name is Rosie. Her birth certificate is in the bag.” She holds the baby out towards him and his eyes widen, looking down at the baby bag in the ground.

”What? I- what the fuck?” He looks bewildered before he starts to laugh. “Good one. Real funny. What do you want? Money?” He scoffs and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes.

“No. No. I need you to take her. I can’t afford her and I- I didn’t want her. When I found out - I was fucking eight months pregnant so it was too late to get rid of her and I can’t work so I can’t pay for my place. I can’t keep her. You gotta take her. She will be better off with you.” She says and pushes the baby into Dieter’s arms.

He scrambles to hold the baby, not wanting to drop her and the woman immediately sprints off towards her car. “Hey! Wait! You can’t just- I don’t know how to look after a baby! I need you to - hey. Where the fuck- get back here!” He yells as she squeals off of his driveway and he curses himself for not fixing the gate yet. “Shit.” He hisses. He didn’t even get her name. Looking down at the baby, he sighs and knows he has to find her mom. He can’t be a daddy. He can barely look after himself.

No, first thing is a damn DNA test and then he’s gonna find that bitch and give her back her baby. He’s gotta call the police after he cleans up his counters from the coke powder. “Fuckkkkk.” He groans, knowing his quiet day just got a whole lot busier.

****

“If we take her, Mr. Bravo, she’s just going to go into a state home. An orphanage.” Dieter frowns and wraps his arms around his chest, nervous for having the fucking cops in his house. Paranoid they were going to find the baggie of Coke he just remembered was in the little box next to his car keys. “You are listed on the birth certificate.”

Snatching the paper from the officer he squints at it. “How the fuck is that legal?” He demands. “That means anyone could put me down as the father of their kid.”

The officer shuffles, clearly uncomfortable and slightly in awe of being in the actor’s presence. “That’s for the courts to decide. Look,” he lowers his voice and looks around. “I don’t think you understand how bad the system is for babies.” He tells Dieter seriously. “Just- keep the baby with you, at least until the DNA tests come back. That way you don’t have to fight to get her back when she is yours. You already said you might have slept with this woman. Stranger things have happened.”

Dieter huffs, upset by the idea of the tiny little human being in an orphanage. Even if she doesn’t look anything like him. He had found diapers and a can of formula in the bag that the mother had left with him but that’s it. He has nothing to take care of a child. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know shit about kids.” He demands, making the officer chuckle.

“Hire a nanny.” The officer suggests, smirking. “Isn’t that what you Hollywood types do?”

Dieter knows he can’t just ship the kid off. She’s so tiny and vulnerable. He can’t do it, even he’s not that big of an asshole. He will call his assistant to get a nanny in today. “Listen, do you, uh, know how much formula to use?” He asks the cop who nods and walks over to the counter to show Dieter.

“One scoop for every two ounces of water. Get baby water but bottled will have to work for today. So four ounces, two scoops. And shake. After she is finished, shift her to your shoulder and gently pat her back to get her to burp.” He says and Dieter nods.

“How much does she need?” Dieter asks and the cop chuckles, “she’s gonna be hungry a lot. I remember mine at that age. Endless bottles. Be sure to wash them thoroughly.” He says and pats Dieter on the shoulder and makes his way towards the front door of the Sherman Oaks mansion.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, rubbing his cheek when the police leave and the baby starts to cry. He knows she must be hungry so he fumbles to open the container, grabbing the bottle to fill it with bottled water and putting two scoops in. “I’m coming.” He says, struggling to do the bottle up, and he curses again as he walks over to carefully scoop the baby up. “How do I-?” He struggles to get her to suck on the bottle and sighs in relief when she stops wailing and gulps down the milk.

Dieter holds the baby awkwardly, trying to remember how from that role a few years ago. The baby had been a prop doll, but they had shown him how to hold it. “Your name’s Rosie, huh?” He asks, looking down at the infant. According to the birth certificate, she’s only two months old. “I’m Dieter, but you don’t talk so why am I telling you that?” He huffs, but the baby gurgles around the nipple of the bottle and it makes him grin. “Did you like that?” He asks, lifting a brow. Apparently he’s a natural with kids.

The baby grunts and the grin immediately slides into a frown. “What’s that?” He asks, feeling something moving. “What are you doing?” Instead of sucking down the milk, the baby is grunting and straining and Dieter stares in horror as the smell starts to reach his nose. “Oh shit! You shit!” He groans in disgust.

The baby starts to cry, unhappy with a full diaper, and Dieter is reaching for his phone.

“Hello?” His assistant answers and Dieter is panicking.

“I need you here right now. I need help.”

Johan, his assistant, frowns, “is that- is that a baby?” He asks and Dieter groans, “get here now. And call a nanny service!” He demands and hangs up. “What do I do?” He asks the baby, shifting to lay her down on a towel so she doesn’t get shit on his expensive rug. “I- shit. You - fuck. That’s disgusting.” He groans and pulls his phone out. “YouTube! I’ll try YouTube.” He looks up ‘how to change a diaper’ and grabs the baby bag.

Dieter watches the video, studying it intently as he keeps a hand on the baby’s stomach. “Looks easy.” He frowns at the squirming baby. “But the doll wasn’t moving.” He sets the phone down beside the bag so he can see it and bites his lip as he tries to figure out the snaps on the onesie she’s in. “Holy shit.” He huffs, amazed at how easy it unsnaps. “I need this in a fucking adult version.” Wrinkling his nose when the smell gets even worse, he groans. “Wheeeeew, God you stink.” He nearly gags and pulls his shirt up over his nose. “What did you eat?”

Trying to plug his nose, he follows the YouTube video, wiping the poop off of her skin after rolling up the dirty diaper and putting it in the diaper bag. Anyone watching would think Dieter is dealing with a bomb. He gags when he pushes the wipes into the bag after cleaning her up and he grabs the rash cream, placing some on her bottom where the video details he should. He curses the new diaper, trying to figure out what way is the front until he sees it says “back” on it and he pulls it tight on her tiny body before he clips her onesies back into place. “Shit. That - that wasn’t too bad.” He murmurs, breathing in the fresh air and she hiccups, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re kind of cute.” Dieter murmurs. “In a weird, ‘you don’t look like me’ kind of way.” He frowns when she grins at him, kicking her feet. “You’re weird.” He huffs, but she just waves her arms at him and squeals. Is she his? After all this time, did he finally fuck up and procreate? His mind spins and he wishes he remembers what the woman looks like better than he does but it had been early (for him) and he had just woken up. “We will have to find you someone who knows what they are doing kiddo.”

****

“What did you do?” Johan accuses Dieter who shakes his head, holding the baby in his arms and he looks at her, unable to deny that she looks a little like Dieter.

“I don’t know man. Some woman, I- Jesus. She said I fucked her and don’t even remember her. I’m waiting for the nurse to come for the DNA test.” Dieter confesses, knowing he has to be sure before he does anything.

“Oh my God, Dieter.” She rolls her eyes and immediately steps closer to the baby, unable to resist seeing her up close. “This is why you said you needed a nanny?”

Dieter nods and rocks his body as the baby’s eyes start to drift closed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He huff, looking around the house that is definitely not baby proof. “I don’t have anything. I need-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I need. More diapers? That formula?” He nods towards the diaper bag. “She didn’t leave me shit for this baby.” He growls, pissed off at the poor planning of that woman. Who just abandons their baby with someone they didn’t know?

“Let me make a list and we can get what we need for her.” Johan says, knowing Dieter will not know anything that he will need.

“I need help. And stuff. Like now.” Dieter says, feeling the need to use but he can’t since he’s responsible for a fucking baby now.

Johan nods and bites his lip. “I’ve got a call into a nanny service. They are going to send someone over today.” He knows Dieter will be relieved. “Maybe she can help us with what we need.”

“Let’s get her. I need help. I- shit. I don’t even have a crib or anything. I need you to go out. Take my card and get all the baby shit from the best store there is in town.” He orders, wanting the baby to have the best even if she isn’t his. She’s cute and she deserves a good start in this world. “I need - shit - I have no idea what I’m doing. Please help me.” Dieter begs, the baby falling asleep against his chest and he looks down at her, her lips pouting as she sucks on the pacifier he found in the bag.

Johan grimaces and nods, aware that he has even less experience with babies than Dieter does. “I’ll be back.” The other man promises, quickly making his way towards the door and out of the house. He had no clue what the hell to do for his boss, he’s gotten himself in a mess this time. As much as he wants to claim he doesn’t know that baby is his, it is. Dieter Bravo is a father.

****

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve always been such a fan of your work.” The woman gushes. Dieter can barely remember her name. Violet, Vivian, or something like that. She seems nice enough and her qualifications from the service are good. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for in a nanny except he desperately needs help. He’s waiting on the DNA results to come in but the little baby is cute and she listens to him rambling without complaints.

Viola looks around the house and wonders how the hell Dieter Bravo became an overnight father. “You must attend parenting classes.” She insists after Dieter finally runs out of steam and shuts up. “There is one I can sign you up for. It’s for new parents and you qualify.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “They have a meeting in two days, I can see about getting you halfway set up.

“What? No. I don’t need a parenting group.” Dieter scoffs and Viola raises her eyebrows.

“Respectful sir, I think you do.” She offers him a wry smile when the baby starts to cry in his arms.

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” He sighs, trying to rock Rosie and he is struggling to calm her.

“Here. Can I-?” Viola asks and Dieter practically shoves the baby into her arms.

“You’re hired.” He declares when Rosie calms down and the crying stops. He can’t do this alone.

“Mr. Bravo,” Viola frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood. I am here temporarily.” She explains. “I have already signed a contract with another family. I came today because it was an emergency.” She wonders if he had heard anything she had said when she arrived, he had looked frazzled but she thought she had been clear.

“What? No! You seem like such a nice lady and Rosie likes you. Please. I’ll pay more. I’ll do anything to get you to stay.” He pleads, “name your price. I’ll fucking pay it. Please!” He pouts, eyes wide and pleading.

Viola shakes her head, “I’m so sorry. I can’t get out of the contract. I’ll help you as much as I can. Johan said you need help learning the basics so I’ll show you the basics and take care of Rosie while I can but you’re going to have to learn what to do.” She says, knowing it’s going to be tough.

“I can’t do this.” Dieter wails, knowing life as he knows it is over. Without someone here, he going to fuck it up. “Please, please, you have to stay.” He begs, making Viola shake her head.

“I am here for one week, Mr. Bravo. Then it will be up to you to find someone to help you care for Rosie. Now, let me show you how to bathe your daughter.”

****

“She’s yours.” Dieter exhales shakily as Johan announces the DNA results.

“Shit. I- I have a daughter.” He shakes his head and looks over at Rosie who is asleep in her bassinet. “What am I gonna do?” Dieter asks as reality sets in. He has a child that he’s responsible for and Viola is only here for two more days. “She’s - she’s so tiny and I’m gonna fuck it up. She’s gonna get fucked up because of me.” He starts to panic now that reality has hit.

“You are going to go to the parenting class tonight and we are going to continue to look for a nanny.” Johan tells Dieter practically. He’s been surprised that Dieter hasn’t done as many drugs as he normally does, even smoking weed outside because of the baby. “So far all the services I’ve called don’t have anyone available until next year.” He shakes his head. “Apparently it was baby season this year.”

Dieter groans, covering his face with his hands and dragging them down his cheeks. “I have pre-production for the movie coming up in a few weeks. I can’t take her with me to a table read.” He whines and Rosie shifts in her sleep, making Dieter’s heart melt when the movement catches his attention and he looks over. “Fine. I’ll go to the parenting class. Maybe…maybe someone can help me find a nanny there.” He says, determined to find help.

****

Dieter walks into the church hall, surprised he hasn’t burst into flames. He hasn’t been to church since he was a kid. His mama used to drag him on a Sunday and when he became famous at ten years old, he managed to bail on church because he was working. He sits down in a seat, noticing how all the other attendees are women. Rosie is asleep in her carrier for now and he has the diaper bag at his feet. “Welcome ladies and - oh. Hi, we have a new member.” An older woman smiles at Dieter, “welcome to the single mom support group.”

“Oh, uh, I thought it was-“ Dieter falters for a moment, panicking about being kicked out of the group. “I thought this was a single parent support group.” He explains, shuffling. “I just- uh, the mother of the child- my child- I just got the DNA test back, dropped her off on my door with no warning.” He rambles, trying to explain why he needs to stay. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He confesses, nearly sounding defeated.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You can stay.” A few of the moms recognize Dieter and he looks exhausted. Rosie had kept him up half of the night since Viola has been weaning him off of her help, and he glances around.

“I’m sorry to - shit. I can go.” He says and you are sitting next to him.

“No, stay. It’s okay. We are all here to help each other.” Your own son, three months old, is whining and you sigh, pulling your tank top down and unclipping your bra to breastfeed him.

Dieter’s eyes widen at the sight of your breast and he can’t deny his cock twitches a little at the idea of drinking down some milk. Shit, when did that kink happen? “I appreciate it. I have no clue what I’m doing.” He admits again and all the women laugh, “none of us do. It’s instinct and a lot of books.” One giggles, “and Google.”

“I didn’t even know.” Dieter moans, shaking his head. “It was- it was a one night stand.” He feels bad about that, not even able to tell Rosie about his relationship with her mom when she gets older. “I’m trying to hire a nanny but all of them are booked up.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to fuck her up. She’s so tiny. Two months old.”

“What’s her name?” You ask him, looking at the little girl asleep in her carrier.

“Rosie.” He says with a soft smile, it’s hard to not love the little girl now that he knows she’s his. He wants the best for her, even if she’s stuck with a manic mess like him. “This is Oliver.” You gesture to the baby now asleep on your breast.

Dieter smiles and tries not to notice the grunting sounds the kid is making. Feeling guilty because he knows that he would be making the exact same sounds the kid is if he was sucking down milk from your tit. “That’s nice.” He offers.

“So what is your name?” The woman in charge smiles fondly at him and he’s surprised no one recognizes him.

“Uh, Dieter.” He offers, curling his shoulders slightly. “Dieter Bravo.”

“Welcome Dieter.” Several of the women say to him with a smile.

“So do you have any questions?” Julia, the group leader asks.

“Where the fuck do I begin?” He replies dramatically, making all the women chuckle.

“Well, we are here to help each other so might as well start.”

“So my first question. So is their shit always gonna be that black color?” Dieter shakes his head, making a face as he remembers the last diaper he had changed.

All the women laugh. “No that won’t last for much longer since she’s three months old.”

Dieter rolls his eyes gratefully. “Oh thank God.” He chuckles. Looking over at you again. “You said your son is two months old? Is he sleeping all night? Is that something that she has to get used to?”

You shake your head, “he isn’t sleeping through the night yet. I breastfeed so he wakes me up every couple of hours. It takes a while for them to sleep through the night. Like six months or so. Have you read any baby books?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Oh you must read - you know what. I’ll send you a list. What’s your number?” You ask and the women all giggle, making you fluster. “I mean, to help. We have babies close in age. It’s good to have help.”

“Do you need a job?” Dieter blurts out, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. “I mean- if your husband doesn’t mind.” He corrects himself, forgetting it was a single mother’s group. “I'm just- I’ve got to start pre-production on the next movie and it’s going to be crazy and you seem like you’re perfect. You handle your baby so easily.” His eyes are wide and pleading, begging you to say yes.

Your eyes widen, "I- um, oh wow. A job?"

The other women all nod, telling Dieter about your history as a teacher and how you know CPR. You fluster, knowing you need a job. Your maternity leave ended two weeks ago and instead of letting you come back to work, your job had fired you. Between losing your job and your landlord chasing you up on rent, you know this is too good to turn down. "I'm not married and um, what job do you have in mind?"

“Nanny.” He jumps immediately on your question. Knowing that it’s not a ‘no’. “I’ll pay you really well and you can- can you live there? I mean, I can have odd hours and you can stay at my place. You and Oliver.” He makes sure to include your son. “I have a big house. In Sherman Oaks.” As if that would sweeten the deal. “Help me with Rosie and teach me how to be a dad. How to look after her. I don’t expect you to do it all.” He clarifies, having already gotten used to the idea of being a ‘girl dad’. He’s watched a few Tik Toks about it and it looks cool.

You know it sounds too good to be true. A job and a place to live with your son. “I think we need to sit down and talk this through properly. You don’t even know me. Don’t you wanna do a background check?” You ask, knowing you’d be doing that if you were hiring someone to live in your house. “We have a lot to discuss.” You bite your lip and look around the room to see the other moms nodding to encourage you.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dieter nods seriously. “My agent will have that done. Plus the NDA you would have to sign.” He’s grateful you are even thinking about it. “But don’t worry. Most of the tabloid stuff is bullshit. I’m not that bad.” He promises with a quick, charming grin. “We can hammer out the details after this, right?”

“Uh, sure.” You nod and Dieter winks at you before turning back to the women, their own babies in their arms and you know this is too good an opportunity to turn down. “You wanna go get a coffee?” You ask Dieter after Oliver is in his stroller and you look at Rosie who is still asleep, unaware of her father trying to hire her a new nanny.

“As long as it’s quiet.” He says and you frown, “uh, sure. You said you are going into pre-production so does that mean you are an actor?” You ask, unaware of if he’s famous.

Dieter stares at you for a moment, wondering if you are just trying to play coy but you are just looking at him curiously. “Yeah, uh, I am.” He admits, finding it refreshing that someone on this planet doesn’t know who he is or have any expectations of him. “I normally do two or three movies a year, depending on how long they take to film or whatever.” He struggles with the carrier and the door, holding it open for you on the other side. “Gotta get one of those.” He tells himself, eyeing your stroller.

“We can make a list of what you’ll need. I’m guessing you have the basics but there’s so much stuff.” You sigh, knowing it’s not always been in your reach but someone like him could buy it all.

“A list sounds good. Coffee?” He suggests, gesturing to the small coffee shop down the street and you nod.

“Sounds good. I desperately need one. He kept me up all night. He was hungry last night and wouldn’t settle unless he was against my breast.”

Dieter keeps his dirty thoughts to himself, but he doesn’t blame the kid. He would love to sleep with a nipple in his mouth too. “We will make sure to get you an extra shot of espresso.” He promises, carrying the car seat and diaper bag as he walks alongside you. “I’m being serious. About the job, I mean.” He tells you. “I have tried every nanny service in the greater L.A. area with no luck, although I’m on their waitlist.” He sighs and shuffles the carrier when his arm gets tired in one position. “I have an in-law suite you and Oliver can use, if you want a little more privacy than just sleeping upstairs.” He knows he sounds desperate, because he is desperate. Johan knows less than he does about babies and has zero interest in watching the kid while he is busy.

“Let’s sit down with the babies and then we can order.” You suggest and he nods, guiding you over to a table in the back. Rosie is waking up and he panics when she starts to cry. “Oh hello gorgeous.” You murmur, leaning down to look at his daughter and Dieter is fumbling to get the bottle from the bag to make her formula. You sigh, sensing he needs help and you unbuckle the baby, Oliver asleep as you cradle Rosie, her cries settling a little and you stand up, rocking her and you reach for the formula Dieter has, a whole damn container, and work fast on a bottle. “My sister has kids. I used to babysit them.” You explain and work fast with one hand to prepare a bottle and bring it to her lips. “Here you go sweet pea.” You coo as she starts to gulp down the milk.

“You’re really good at this.” Dieter says in awe, watching you handle things so smoothly. “I’m just-I don’t know.” He sighs, feeling bad that he’s not good at this.

“Babies sense the emotions around them.” You tell him quietly. “You panic, she’s going to become more frantic. Just talk to her while you are getting her bottle ready. Or have one already mixed up, ready to go.” You think about all the formulas that are already bottled and just need a nipple slapped on them. “We can find a routine that works for you.”

Dieter nods, “yes. Yes. God, please take the job. I need you.” He pleads and you shift Rosie into his arms, transferring the bottle to him.

“I’ll take the job. On one condition.” You say, sitting back down and you rock Oliver’s stroller.

“Anything.” Dieter vows.

“You learn too. I don’t want you to just shove her into my arms at the first sign of difficulty. She’s your daughter. You need to know how to care for her, to bond with her. You can’t just hand her off and expect me to do it all. She needs to know her daddy.”

Dieter nods, knowing that he would do that if given the opportunity. “Okay.” He agrees. “I want you to help me become better at taking care of her.” He bites his lip and looks at you. “What do you want for pay?” He asks, listing off a number that the nanny services had given him. “Does that sound okay? Plus, you’ll have full use of the house. And a card for expenses. I don’t expect you to buy the diapers or wipes or any of that shit.”

Your eyes widen, it’s way more than you were making at your old job. Your landlord has been threatening you with eviction since you’re struggling to pay, and this almost seems like fate. “Wow. I- are you sure?” You ask him and he nods, “I’m absolutely sure.”

You swallow and offer him a soft smile, “then I’m your new nanny.” He grins and your heart thumps in your chest at how handsome he is. “There’s something you gotta know though.” You sigh and Dieter nods, waiting for you to go on. “Oliver’s father. He - he died.” You feel yourself tearing up, “we - I was only a few months pregnant when we got into the car accident. I didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time but Ollie- he- he died. We were- we were friends, friends with benefits and we got pregnant and he- he never got to meet his son.” You choke, the grief that’s consumed you threatens to take you again. He didn’t have any family left alive so Oliver would’ve been his only family.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter frowns, unsure of how to comfort someone about a death that meaningful but he feels like he should say something. “That is rough. Hopefully- hopefully this will turn into a good arrangement.” He offers with a small shrug, realizing that things could be worse. He can’t imagine what it would be like going through this alone. “After our coffee, do you want to come over? See the house?” He asks. “I can call my agent to draw up any kind of paperwork you want.”

You nod, sniffing to stop yourself from crying about Ollie. You loved him, he was your friend, but you were never in love with him. He had his problems and you had yours. It would’ve never worked. Oliver is here now and you have to be strong for him, to keep Ollie’s memory alive. “Yes. I- this is a lot but I want to change my life. I need a change. I want to work for you.” You say as the barista takes pity on you with the babies and comes over to take your order. “I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” You order and Dieter adds, “with an extra shot of espresso.”

After taking your orders, Rosie finishes her bottle and Dieter shifts to put her up on his shoulder to burp. “Hang on, you need a spit rag.” You insist, digging in your own diaper bag to produce one.

“Huh,” Dieter huffs, “I just thought I was supposed to wear her puke until she stopped doing that.” He jokes, the stains on his shirt only partly from his daughter.

“No, you always carry multiple burp clothes and changes of clothes, for both of you.” You tell him with a smile.

He nods, mentally taking notes. He has so much to learn from you to make sure his daughter is well looked after. He doesn’t want to fail at being a father. He wants her to know he did everything he could to be a good daddy. He knows you will be good for Rosie, for him too. He sips his coffee and watches you with Oliver, rocking his stroller, and he can see you’re a good mom. He feels comfortable with you. “Do you wanna come back to my place?” Dieter asks, realizing that’s the first time he’s asked that question without it being for sex or drugs

You bite your lip and look up at the frazzled, yet handsome man who is offering you a dream situation. A place to live and the ability to stay at home with your son while still earning money. You don’t know if you would ever get a better offer. “Yes.” You agree. “I’ll follow you? Maybe you can text me the address in case we get separated?” You want to look it up really quickly, just to make sure it’s a real place.

He nods, taking your number to text you his address. He is anxious for you to see the house, hoping you love it and it helps to get you to take the job. You strap Oliver into his car seat while Dieter does the same to Rosie and soon enough, you’re driving to his house.

“I, uh, I’ll ask the housekeeper to come in more than once a week.” Dieter offers, climbing out of his car as you do the same. He doesn’t want you to think that it’s all going to fall on you. “Oh, Johan told me about a diaper delivery service. All natural diapers? That’s better, right?” He asks, anxious about doing the right thing. He had read about the chemicals used in the nappies he currently has.

You smile at his anxiety, wanting the best for Rosie, and you know he’s going to be a good daddy once he gets his feet under him. “Johan?” You ask and Dieter nods, “my assistant. He’s - he is my lifeline.” Dieter confesses and you nod, understanding he lives a completely different life to you. He needs an assistant to manage his schedule. You take Oliver out of the car in his carrier and follow Dieter into the house, your eyes wide at the gorgeous home he owns. “This is - wow.” You exhale as you enter the grand property.

“Thank you.” Dieter shows you the bottom floor and opens the door to his study. “I have all this shit I don’t know what it’s for.” The room is filled with boxes of toys and jumpers, cribs and carriers. Johan had gone overboard but Dieter had wanted to make sure that he had everything he needed. Your eyes widen and he blushes, “I was trying my best.”

You nod, understating he has struggled since Rosie was dropped on his doorstep. “We can get everything set up. Does she have a nursery?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she’s been in my room. I- I haven’t really slept. I’ve been trying to watch her sleep in case, you know.”

You understand, knowing you stay awake watching Oliver breathing. It’s a lot of anxiety being a first time parent. “We will get her nursery set up and then you can keep her in your room if you want but then she has somewhere to nap and call her own.” You smile and rub his shoulder after you set Oliver down in his carrier, he’s asleep. “It’s gonna be fine.” You promise him, glancing around the beautiful living room. “It’s gonna need some baby proofing and, uh, that needs to go.” You gesture to the powder packet on the counter.

“Oh, I, uh-“ Dieter rushes forward and grabs the packet to sweep it off the counter and into his pocket. “I haven’t- that’ll be put away.” He promises, cursing himself for leaving it out. He hadn’t taken any lately, not since Rosie arrived because he’s too fucking scared of something happening to her while he’s bombed. “Sorry.” He hopes you don’t decide to leave him high and dry because of that. “Do you want to see the rooms you and Oliver could have?” He asks desperately.

You stop him, “I- I am taking the job but you won’t do drugs in this house with the babies. If something happened or they got hold of it - I couldn’t - no drugs in this house. Period. You wanna go get high somewhere else? Fine. But your daughter comes first, you understand?” You ask him, knowing you won’t risk your own son around that kind of bullshit.

Immediately nodding, Dieter understands what you are saying. “I haven’t- not since she’s arrived.” He confesses. “I’ve been too scared to even try in case something happens.” He’s not stupid enough to think he won’t do drugs anymore but he does want to be there for his daughter.

You nod, knowing it’s not ideal but it will have to do. As long as they aren’t kept in the house and he doesn’t do them around the children, it’s his business. You are just his employee. “Okay.” You pat his shoulder and he guides you to the guest suite. “Dieter…this is…wow.” You gasp at the massive room, “this is - this is a lot. Are you sure - there’s no other room you want me to have?” You ask, knowing this room is the size of your apartment.

“You need room for you and Oliver.” He shrugs, not wanting to say that he doesn’t have guests unless it was someone from a party. And he doubts he’s having those here anymore. “This way you have privacy and your own bathroom.” He knows that is important and figured this would be perfect. “And using another room for Oliver is okay too.” He doesn’t want to suggest the nursery can be shared, but he wouldn’t mind. “Will this work?”

You smile, reaching out to pat his arm, “this is more than enough, Dieter. It’s perfect.” You promise and he grins, pleased that you are happy. He sighs when Rosie starts to cry and Oliver follows suit, both babies waking up. “Come on daddy, let’s go feed the babies.”

He feels more confident with you beside him. Even if it’s just your presence reminding him that he should test the bottle on the inside of his wrist before popping the nipple in Rosie’s mouth while Oliver is greedily suckling at your breast for his own meal. “That wasn’t too bad.” He grins down at his daughter, eyes wide but slowly starting to close as she gulps down the bottle. “How often do you have to feed Oliver?” He asks, trying to keep his eyes on your face respectfully. You aren’t giving him a show.

“About every one and a half to two hours. Depends on when he’s hungry. He lets me know.” You chuckle and watch your son as his gulps turn into suckles which lead to him falling asleep against your breast. “It’s - it’s exhausting but he’s worth it.” You smile at Dieter who is rocking Rosie. “You’re getting better already. We will make a list of everything we need for you and, um, I guess I better go and pack.” You smile bashfully, knowing this is a big move but it’s what’s best for you and Oliver.

“Why don’t we hire someone to pack you?” Dieter asks with a frown. You have your hands full and he knows that it will take a lot to take care of your son and try to pack. “I’ll pay for it. I don’t mind. That way we can get the nursery set up.”

“Are you sure? I- I don’t know if you’re gonna find someone so late notice. I don’t have much. And I will need Oliver’s crib and -”

You don’t get to finish because Dieter is pulling out his phone to call Johan and arrange for your things to be moved today. “Whatever it costs.” Dieter says and you swallow, knowing Dieter has more money than you could imagine if he can waste it like that.

“Thank you.” You tell him, cradling Oliver who is fast asleep.

“It’s nothing.” Dieter waves away the thanks and looks down at Rosie as she finishes the last of her bottle. “Okay little girl, let’s get you to burp, and then maybe a nap?” He asks, grinning. “She has the manliest burps.” He brags, astounded that something so small could make such a racket. “I have the other cradle thingy if you want to lay your son down.”

“The bassinet?” You smirk and he shrugs one shoulder, “I’m still learning.” You nod and let him guide you to the bassinet and you carefully lay Oliver down before adjusting your shirt after clipping your nursing bra. Rosie burps and you giggle softly, liking how proud Dieter is of her and you watch him lay her down in the cradle next to Oliver. “Maybe they will be best friends.” You whisper, leaning closer to him.

“That would be cool.” Dieter imagines it, his own childhood lonely and isolated. There were times he had wished desperately for a built-in friend. “Let’s get out of here before we wake them up.” He has learned that Rosie is cranky if she gets woken up before she’s ready and he doesn’t blame her, he’s the same way. Maybe she got it from him. “So, uh, since there’s two kids….just, um, we’re gonna need that double stroller thingy, right?” Dieter asks as he walks down the hall with you. “And can you show me that carrier thing? The one you have the baby wrapped to your body? That looks cool. Oh, and uh, the diapers. The service, when we get that set up, use it for Oliver too.” He adds. “No need to have two different types of diapers, right?”

You nod, realizing it’s best not to argue. “Let’s leave them to sleep and we can work on getting the nursery set up. I- I really appreciate this opportunity, Dieter.” You tell him and lean in to kiss his cheek. He blushes as you set your phone up as a makeshift baby monitor, calling his phone, and you leave the babies to sleep. Dieter follows you, his eyes dropping down to your ass, and he curses internally when he realizes he finds you hot.

****

“Dieter!” You call out, trying to find your boss. Oliver and Rosie are having tummy time on the play mat and you need your breast pump. It’s been a couple of months since you moved in with Dieter to become his full time nanny and it’s been surprisingly nice. Rosie is a good girl and you’ve grown to fall in love with her, making sure her and Oliver get equal treatment. “Can you get my pump?” You ask when he doesn’t respond.

“Yeah!” Dieter reluctantly lets go of his cock and tucks it away in his dress slacks. He had been trying to tug one out before he had to go to court, formally getting custody of his daughter. Nervous and not able to get high, jerking off had become even more of a habit than before now he had started thinking about you while he was doing it. You’re so fucking pretty and kind. Looking like an angel as you take care of his daughter. Dieter knows that he’s falling in love with you but he can’t do anything about it. Not willing to risk you leaving and denying Rosie the best nanny in the world. Washing his hands quickly, he rushes to the kitchen to grab the pump where you had cleaned it last night while he sterilized bottles. “Here it is.”

You thank him, breasts aching and you attach the suction, not thinking about Dieter as you sigh in relief at the milk finally being pumped. “Shit. That feels good.” You groan, the whooshing of the machine pumping and you have been pumping enough for Rosie to have milk too. It’s been a lot but you love the babies. “What time do you have to leave?” You ask Dieter, catching him staring at your tits and you hate that it thrills you. He’s so sexy, unintentionally so, and goofy as hell. He’s good with his daughter and you’ve grown close, raising the babies together, and you know it’s getting harder and harder to deny how you feel every day.

“Oh, uh, I gotta leave in twenty minutes.” His cock is still hard in his trousers and he twitches at the groan you make. Every day you pump, having no modesty around him now and you shouldn’t - it’s natural but Dieter still thinks it’s sexy. “I’m nervous.” He admits, glancing over at Rosie as she squeals and waves her arms on her tummy. “I know that my lawyer said it’s a formality, but what if the judge doesn’t like me? What if he takes Rosie from me?”

You shake your head and reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, D. You’re a good daddy and that will be shown. I know your past hasn’t been ideal but you got this. You’re a good man, Rosie is lucky to have you. We all are. It’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” You offer him a soft smile and squeeze his hand again.

“I’m more nervous than the night I won my Oscar.” Dieter confesses with a nervous chuckle. He doesn’t tell you that he was high, sure that you could guess that, although he has done anything more than hit his weed pen since you’ve moved in. Rosie is surprisingly therapeutic, although he’s glad she doesn’t understand what he talks about during the nights he gets up with her. The movie is almost halfway done shooting and he’s going to make sure that once he’s done, you get a week off so you can veg for more than a night. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles. “I’ll call you when I get out, okay?” He asks, and you nod, letting go of him. “And eat that kale and beet salad in the fridge”, he throws over his shoulder as he rushes towards the door. “It’s supposed to help the milk supply.”

You roll your eyes playfully, looking back at the babies. “Daddy is silly, isn’t he?” You talk to Rosie and look at Oliver, saddened that he isn’t going to know his father. You wonder what Ollie would think of Dieter. They are similar in a lot of ways but Ollie was always practical, making sure you weren’t in a relationship because of his strenuous job as a firefighter. He didn’t want you to be one of those women sitting around waiting for him. You sigh and wonder what you are going to do about Dieter. It’s too comfortable with him.

****

“Dinner’s ready!” You call out. The babies are now six and seven months old. Sitting in their baby bouncers, watching you setting the dinner out for Dieter. He’s finished filming and you want to celebrate. The nice bottle of wine on the table alongside his favorite pasta.

“Oh my god, you spoil me.” Dieter groans as he comes into the dining room, freshly showered and in comfortable clothes. Rosie squeals happily and so does Oliver, both of them in their high chairs. Dieter grins leaning in and blowing a raspberry on his daughter’s cheek and then on your son’s. He never thought he was a kid type of person, but his playfulness extends to your son. He’s a good kid and it would not be right when you are so good with Rosie if he ignored the little guy. It makes him imagine that the four of you are a family, a real one and he was coming home from work to all of you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You shake your head, enjoying the way his hand finds your waist as you reach for the parmesan on the counter. You turn to face him, cupping his cheek, “you just finished filming. You deserve a treat.” You smile, caressing his cheek and your eyes dip down to his lips for a second. He stares at you and you clear your throat, lowering your hand, “let’s eat. You must be starving.” You set the cheese down and glance over at the babies, you fed them while dinner was cooking so now you and Dieter can enjoy your meal.

“How was your day?” He’s finding that this, fatherhood and responsibility, is grounding for him. Not just concentrating on his whims and trolling through boredom. Every day is different and challenging with kids, especially when he’s trying to make sure that none of his own parents' mistakes affect Rosie. “The kids were okay?” He asks, pouring more wine into each of your glasses. You hum in protest but Dieter shakes his head. “Just pump and dump. You deserve more than one glass.” He huffs.

You sigh but let him pour some more wine, it’s been stressful with the babies today. “Rosie decided to throw up all over Oliver and herself so both of them needed a bath and then Oliver managed to get his diaper off in his onesie so he needed another bath and then Rosie wouldn’t stop crying because Oliver wasn’t next to her. It’s been - it’s been a day.” You sigh and Dieter nods, reaching for your hand. It feels so normal, like you’re complaining to your husband about your hectic day over wine and you look up at Dieter, “I love them both so much but today was…it was a lot.”

“I can imagine.” Dieter squeezes your hand gently and once again thinks that it’s odd that you don’t feel like his employee. You feel like his wife, although he’s never kissed you, or touched you like he’s imagined. “Let me take both the kids tonight.” He offers. “I’ve got the next week off before I have to do all the press bullshit for the other movie coming out in two weeks. Why don’t you take a little vacation? A spa or something?” His parenting skills have improved drastically and there have been times where he’s watched Oliver for you. Like when you had to go for another postpartum checkup.

You groan, letting go of his hand so you can continue eating. “I won’t lie…a massage sounds good. My back has been killing me.” You confess, twirling the pasta around your fork and you bite your lip, wondering what a massage from him would be like with his hands. “I wouldn’t mind going to the mall. I need some new clothes that aren't leggings.” You chuckle, “and I need some new underwear.” You sigh before you chew on the pasta.

Dieter’s cock twitches at the thought of your underwear. Not that he sees them. You’ve taken over doing the laundry even though he offered to have someone come in. Or he could help. Insisting that it was no problem. Johan had even commented that you made his house seem like a real home, and Dieter couldn’t deny that. “You could do all that.” He promises. “I’ll watch the kids. I want to spend some time with R and O.”

You feel guilty leaving the kids behind but you trust Dieter, something you never thought you’d say, but he has proven himself to be an amazing father. You smile, “thanks baby.” You tell him and he swallows the wine down. It’s getting harder to deny how you feel. After finishing eating, Dieter helps you clean up while you have the babies in the play pen. “Bedtime for the bubbies.” You coo, picking up Rosie and kissing her hair. “Daddy is gonna change you, baby girl.” You slide her into Dieter’s arms and pick up Oliver.

“Why don’t you go take your own bath?” Dieter offers, grinning down at Rosie. “You’ve had them all day and you said it’s been rough. Go take a bubble bath. I can get them ready for bed.” He’s made huge strides as a father, as a caretaker and now that he’s more confident, he finds he likes it. Kids are fun. And easy to learn how to please. “I can rock them both and get them settled.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, trusting him but you want him to be comfortable.

“I am for this.” He promises and you nod, “you got this. I- I can feed O before they get to sleep.” You say and he shakes his head.

“No. I got it.” He promises, knowing he can warm up your milk.

You lean in to kiss the babies’ heads, “goodnight my loves. I love you so much.” You say to them and you look up at Dieter, offering him a grateful smile. You make your way into the bathroom, sighing in relief when you sink into the tub.

Dieter hums to the babies as he warms up their last bottles of the night. Changed and in clean onesies, they are ready for that last bottle. Smirking to himself as he tests the breast milk on his wrist and barely resists licking it. He wants to try it, but he feels like that might be crossing a line. Getting both of the babies settled in each arm and they can hold their own bottle now with a little help. “You two are like twins, you know that?” He coos at both of them, settling in the rocker on the nursery while they eat. Watching their eyes grow heavier as they suck. You had both decided to keep them in the same nursery, letting them bond and it has worked out so much better than he had ever hoped. He loves Oliver like Rosie and when they fall asleep at the same time, he’s grinning as he holds them for a little longer before shifting to put them to sleep in the same crib. They cried if they were separated, curling up together during the night as if they were twins.

You sigh, relaxing in the hot water until you decide to get out and say goodnight to the babies. You shrug your robe on, tying it as you make your way to the nursery as Dieter leans over the crib. “They asleep?” You whisper and he nods. You caress their heads, loving how they are asleep together, keeping each other safe. Sometimes you see them holding hands in the night. It’s adorable. You rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as you watch them for another moment and he turns his head to kiss your hair. It makes your heart pound and you pull away, letting the babies sleep with the white noise machine running.

Dieter’s hands seem to be twitchy as you walk out of the nursery in front of him. He knows that you are only dressed in a robe and he wants nothing more than to strip you out of it and touch you. Make you shake in pleasure. “Do you want to have a drink?” Dieter asks. “Or are you calling it a night?”

“A drink sounds good. Relax after a long day.” You smile, walking into the kitchen to open the second bottle of wine you’d bought earlier. You work fast to open it, pouring a glass and handing it to him before you settle on the sofa. “You wanna continue watching that show on HBO?” You ask, knowing he hates it when you watch an episode without him.

“Yes!” Dieter lights up and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You better not have already watched it.” He threatens playfully, handing you the remote. He likes when you relax and loves that you feel completely at home here. It is your home. He leans towards you and takes a sip of the wine. “What do you think is gonna happen, this episode? The previews looked good.”

You nod, shifting closer towards him. “I promise you. I haven’t seen it yet.” You assure him and have another sip of your wine. You love and hate how relaxed you are, how easy this is. How real it feels. Like you’re a proper family. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as he presses play. You barely watch the show, too focused on the way Dieter feels pressed against you.

About halfway through the show Dieter shuffles, throwing his arm around the backside of the couch and around you. Letting you slide down against him more. You pull the throw blanket over your legs and he smiles, wondering how you are always cold but it’s a cute quirk he’s noticed.

You snuggle into his side, hand finding his chest and you caress the skin under the shirt he always has half buttoned. He sighs and you breathe him in, pleased to feel his heart thumping under your touch. This intimacy, it’s what keeps you satisfied when you yearn for more but you can’t risk it. Your job. Your home. Your life is connected to his and you can’t afford to mess it up.

“Marry me.” Dieter says and you think you misheard him.

“What?” You ask, not moving.

“Marry me.” He repeats and you jerk back from his side so you can look him in the eyes.

“What- did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did.” Dieter nods, turning towards you and reaching for your hand. “I love you. I love how you make this house feel like a home. I love how you care for Rosie and I love Oliver.” He adds. “I love coming home to you and I want this-“ he motions around the house and between the two of you. “To be real. I want to touch you, kiss you. Make love to you.” Dieter isn’t a man who talks in terms like ‘making love’ but that’s exactly what it would be. “I think you love me too, don’t you? I know you do.”

You shake your head, wanting to tell him you love him. He’s crazy, he leaves his socks everywhere and he has so many holes in his shirts but he’s kind and whacky and so damn funny. You love him, you’re in love with him, but to marry him would be a bad idea. You can’t risk this life you’ve created together. “Dieter.” You sigh, pulling your hand out of his. “We can’t. We can’t risk the babies. We - if it all went wrong, then I’d be moving out with Oliver and Rosie loses him and vice versa. If it all went wrong, I’d be homeless and I wouldn’t have anything. I can’t risk that for my son. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart breaks but he’s determined to convince you this is a good thing. Latching onto what you said about being homeless, his eyes widen. “I’ll buy you a house.” He bursts out. “In your name alone. It’ll be yours. Completely.” He nods to himself, grinning like an idiot and picks up your hand again. “It won’t go wrong, you’re perfect and I love you. I want to be with you and our babies all the time and fuck, I want another baby when you’re ready.” He missed everything about Rosie’s birth and he wants to see your stomach large with a baby, his baby. “But if it did-“ he stresses the word ‘if’, “-you would have a house for you and Oliver. And you could rent it out right now. The money would be yours. Totally yours.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “I can’t - that’s too much. A house here is insane. That’s a crazy amount to put into this. That - a whole damn house? That’s what you want to do?” You ask incredulously and he nods.

“All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I need you. I love you.” He promises and you swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes.

Your heart yearns for him yet your head tells you it’s too much of a risk. “Dieter…” You trail off and he frowns, pulling away slightly, sensing your rejection. “I love you.” Your eyes water and a sob escapes your lips as you start to cry. No one has ever been so kind to you. To know he loves you enough to buy a house so you feel secure in case something goes wrong. It has you sobbing.

He lunges forward, crushing you to him in a comforting hug. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry. I never want you to cry.” He pleads, sure that he’s messed up somehow. “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop wanting you. Seeing you with our babies, I think- I wish they were ours. Our twins and we had them together.” He rubs your back and pets your hair as you sob into his chest and he tries to think of how he could make you feel better.

You sob into his chest at his words, wishing they were true but it’s not and that’s okay. The babies brought you together and you know you and Dieter would’ve never met if it weren’t for that single moms group. “I - I love you.” You offer him a watery smile as you pull back and he reaches out to gently wipe your tears away. “I love you and I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I love you Dieter.” You confess, cupping his cheeks.

Dieter’s smile is slow, soft and he can’t believe that you are saying yes. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. Loving how you immediately open for him to slide his tongue against yours with a groan. Pulling you close against him again, this time shamelessly pressing his body against yours. “I love you.” He promises, kissing down your jaw line. “Do you want to have sex with me? Or do you want to wait?” He wants you in his bed, but if you wanted to wait until the deed to the house was in your hands, he would understand that. He would go out tomorrow and buy you the best house he could find.

You know you’ve spent far too much time thinking about him, having him inside of you, pressing against you, and you know you should slow down but you can’t. “I want you. I don’t want to wait. I want you now.” You tell him breathlessly and you press your lips to his, cupping his cheek while you slide your tongue against his.

Groaning, Dieter pulls you closer and starts to lean you back against the sofa, knowing that he needs to take you to bed but right now, he needs to feel you under him. “So beautiful.” He praises, kissing your chin and nips your skin with his teeth.

You sigh, loving how it feels to have him touch you. His hand sliding along your thigh and you whimper, “Dieter. Please. I want you to touch me.” You plead, guiding his hand to the tie of your robe while your hands caress his chest under his ratty t-shirt.

He hums, twitching against your hip and he leans back and grins at you, “I’m going to, baby. I’m going to make sure you know exactly what you are getting from me.” He pulls your robe open and groans at the sight of your tits. Looking back up at you. “Can I taste?” He asks. “I’ve dreamed of tasting your milk.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing at the thought. “You’ve imagined it?” You ask breathlessly and he nods so you move fast to straddle him, his cock hard against your thigh, and you lean in towards him to kiss him as you shrug your robe off of your shoulders. “You can have a taste.”

He knows your tits are tender, hearing you complain and watching as you sometimes have to massage them. He cups them in his hands, groaning at how full they are, grinning. “Fuck, I can drink it all since you were going to dump it.” He realizes as he leans forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.”

“Oh shit.” You gasp, groaning softly at the relief and arousal coursing through you. You love it. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you watch him gulp down your milk and you’re amazed that he enjoys it. “Oh God baby.” You pant, feeling the relief of your milk draining and the way he sucks on your nipple, biting it now and then.

“Shit.” He gasps, feeling his cock throbbing. “It’s better than I expected.” He moans, switching to your other breasts and he knows this will become a favorite thing for him now. One hand slides down between your thighs and he is so fucking happy to find you wet.

“Dieter. Please.” You beg, needing more from him. It’s been so long since someone touched you. Not since Ollie. You rock down onto his fingers, loving how he rubs your clit while his lips suckle on your other breast. “Oh fuck, D. So good.” You whimper, caressing his shoulders.

“What do you want, baby?” He pulls off your nipple with a pop. “You want me to eat your pussy?” He groans at the thought. “Want to sit on Dieter’s face? Smother me with your cunt?”

You giggle breathlessly, “that’s the only way to shut you up?” You tease and he nods, “one of the few ways.”

You laugh and he moves fast to shift, laying down and he pulls you over to hover over his face. “Shit baby. So good to me.” You gasp when he drags you down on top of his face.

The first taste is always amazing. Sliding his tongue though your folds as he pulls your hips down onto his mouth. Holding you there as he licks and then sucks on your clit.

You whimper, “baby. Oh baby.” You moan, grinding down onto his face. “So good. So fucking good.” You moan, loving how enthusiastic he is and he squeezes your ass, encouraging you to move. You do, rocking your hips down even more.

He doesn’t care that you two are on the couch or that he is throbbing in his pants. All he cares about is making you moan his name. He knows he will slide inside you as soon as you cum for him. He moans against your clit, loving how you are smothering him just like he wanted you to. Using him for your pleasure.

“Fuck. Fuck. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, lost in the pleasure of his mouth on you. You rock on top of his mouth, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue pushes deep. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. Yes. Keep - keep going.” You beg, moaning his name.

He can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. Too busy licking into you to feel your walls start to convulse around his tongue. Moaning when the first rush if your juices hit his mouth and your moan of his name almost makes him cum in his pants. Digging his fingers into your hips, Dieter doubles down on making you shriek his name.

You throw your head back as he makes you cum, moaning his name as you clamp down around his tongue. “Fuck baby. Fuck. I- I love you.” You whine when he works you through it and you whimper, lifting off of him when it becomes too much.

Panting like he was the one who had cum, Dieter licks his lips, completely pussy drunk as he caresses your side. Enjoying the boneless way you collapse on top of him as you try to catch your breath. “I love you. Fuck, you’re my new favorite meal.”

You inhale deeply, shifting off of him and you waste no time in tugging his shirt off of him. “Baby. I want to see all of you.” You tell him, tossing the ragged shirt away and you pull his sweats down to expose his cock. “Holy - that’s what you got?” Your eyes are wide at the girth and you wrap your fingers around him.

Dieter groans, bucking his hips and biting his lip in pleasure. “Fuck, is that not enough?” He gasps out. Normally women have no issue with his size but maybe your Ollie was hung like a horse.

“Not enough? Dieter, baby, I’m gonna feel you tomorrow.” You assure him, “I’m gonna need - wow. You might have to get some lube.” You admit and you start to pump him, in awe that your fingers don’t touch. You know it’s been so long since you’ve had sex and he is thick. You’ve always preferred girth over length anyway. “You’re big.” You promise him, leaning in to flick your tongue over the leaking slit.

He preens at your praise, eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of your tongue. “I’ve got lube.” He promises, reaching down and cradling your jaw. “Use it all the time, jerking off thinking about you.” He’s not ashamed of masturbating while thinking of you. “Baby let's go to the bedroom. You can ride me if you want more control.”

You want to suck his cock but you know you’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, you need him inside of you. Releasing his cock, you pick up the baby monitor and stand up, smirking as you make your way to his bedroom. He’s scrambling to get his sweatpants off and you disappear down the hall, throwing over your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting, Bravo.”

“Shit.” He hisses, eager to chase after you. Noticing that you are headed to his bedroom and not your own. “I’m coming baby, fuck.” He watches your ass shake as you sway your hips. “Gonna buy you the biggest fucking house I can find.”

You giggle, setting the monitor down on the nightstand and you gasp when Dieter’s hands grab your hips, pulling you back into him. You quickly spin and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.” You murmur against his mouth, his hard cock pressing into your stomach.

“I love you too.” Dieter moans softly, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. “Do you- do you need me to wear a condom?” He asks, sure that you aren’t wanting to get pregnant so soon after having your son. It wasn’t like you two had discussed birth control.

“No. I- I got an IUD put in. Figured they might as well do it while I was there and it wasn’t painful. I’m clean too. Not been with anyone since Ollie.” You promise and wonder if he’s clean. You don’t know when he slept with someone last. Maybe after you arrived. You don’t know. It’s not like it was your business when you were just his nanny.

He nods. “I uh, I haven’t been with anyone since Rosie has shown up. I’m clean.” He promises, eager to slide inside you and feel you without a barrier. “I didn’t want to do that kind to shit around her. Give her a good example. Don’t want her to be like me.”

You cup his cheeks, “you’re a good father and she’s gonna be just fine. You’re doing a good job.” You remind him, leaning in to kiss along his jaw. “Come on baby, you want me to ride you?” You ask and he nods. You let go of him and he walks over to his nightstand to grab the lube while you kneel on the bed. When he’s laying down, you grab the bottle and squirt some into your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock to coat him before you swipe your fingers through your folds to make sure you’re slick enough. “Fuck, you’re gonna stretch me out.” You tell him as you straddle him.

“Want to see it.” Dieter pants, chest heaving as he watches you position his cock at your entrance. Moaning your name as you start to sink down on him, he can feel his entire body light up in pleasure at the hot clutch of your cunt. “I love you. I fucking love you.” Dieter cries, his fingers digging into your thighs as you slowly take him deeper, watching your mouth drop open and loving the way you moan his name.

Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto him. He’s so thick, it stings, but you like that. It’s been so long since you had sex and this is the man you love. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thighs meet his, his cock fully inside of you, and his fingers sink into your flesh. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He grunts and you giggle, leaning down to kiss along his jaw. “I fucking love you too.” You murmur, licking along his neck until you are biting his earlobe so you can give yourself a moment to adjust to him.

He whines, unable to stop himself from lurching up in pleasure. “Oh did you like that?” You giggle breathlessly, making him moan and turn his head so you can do it again.

“More baby, fuck. Want you to mark me up.” He begs, so starved for attention that he needs to drown in it. His hand squeezes your ass again and it takes concentration to not urge you to move, your walls fluttering so deliciously around him.

You love how desperate he is for you. Biting down on his earlobe again and his cock twitches inside of you. You take pity, finally feeling comfortable, and you shift, rocking on his cock while you nibble on his ear, whispering “you’re mine. I’m gonna make sure everyone sees it.” You smirk as you kiss down his neck, sucking and biting on his skin.

“Fuck yes, I’m yours, I’m yours.” Dieter chants, rocking his hips up to chase your cunt when you lift off of him. Hating even the brief few seconds where he’s not buried inside your warmth. “All yours baby.” He groans, closing his eyes at the pure bliss of being able to touch you, to tell you what he’s thinking without worrying about offending you. “Gonna marry you. Give you everything.” He gasps out.

You moan, “I’m yours too. Been yours since I moved into this house. I’m gonna be your wife.” You promise and he groans, hands caressing your back. You kiss his collarbone and shift back, making his cock sink deeper and you grab his hands to help you balance as you ride his cock. “Fuck. Yes. God, so good. So good inside of me.” You ramble, squeezing his hands as you start to pick up the pace.

“God, fuck, your pussy is gold.” His toes curl and he loves how you start to bounce on his cock. Making your tits away heavily and he watches with them unabashed lust. “So fucking gorgeous.” He pants. “Can’t wait to see you pregnant, riding my cock.”

“One day.” You promise with a grin, breathless from how good this feels. You let go of his hands, leaning back to grab his knees, and you grind down onto his cock, hitting just the right spot to make you gasp. “Fuck, baby. Oh my - I’m - it’s gonna make me cum.” You confess, reaching down to rub your clit.

Dieter frowns and slaps your hand away, pouting up at you. “Let me.” He insists, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing a tight circle over the bundle of nerves while you bounce on his cock. “Fuck baby, cum, please cum. I’m gonna -“ he hisses. “Not gonna last. Too fucking tight.” Your walls clenching down around him every other bounce is getting to be too much and he grits his teeth, praying he lasts long enough for you to soak his cock.”

Your moans are getting breathier as you struggle to breathe from the pleasure. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Dieter. I’m gonna - oh!” You moan, clamping down on his cock and soaking him, his thumb still working your clit until your thighs are shaking. “Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, wanting to feel it as you convulse on top of him from your orgasm.

You don’t have to say anything else. His entire body is aching to cum, gripping your hips harshly as he starts to thrust wildly up into your body. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter whines, burying his cock half a dozen more times before his back is bowing and he is crying out your name, filling you with hot spurts of his seed.

You pant, collapsing onto his chest as his cock twitches inside of you, and you kiss along his neck. Unable to speak, you enjoy the aftermath of your orgasms. The connection you feel to Dieter has you on cloud nine. He’s a good father and a good man, despite what the paps print. He’s changed for his child and that makes you love him more. “Good?” You ask breathlessly, hoping he enjoyed it as much as you did.

“So fucking good.” Dieter’s eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure relaxation. Enjoying the way you feel on top of him. “God, you’re spending the night right here. Every night from now on.” He slides a hand up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your slick skin under his palm. “Now we just need the kids to sleep through the night.”

“Soon. They are getting better. And you want another one to keep us awake?” You tease, giggling when his cock twitches inside of you.

“I do.” He promises and you caress his cheek, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Me too. One day.” You lean in to softly kiss his lips, knowing you want this man to be your husband, to be everything. ****

“Diet, babe. Can you get me that - shit.” You hiss after you feel the baby kick your ribcage.

“Bad word mama.” Rosie points at you and you nod, “sorry, love. Mama needs to sit down.” You tell the three year old. Ollie comes over to sit down on the sofa next to you, his small hand on your belly as he leans in to talk to the baby in your belly. Rosie follows suit, wanting to do what her brother is doing.

“Hello baby. It’s me. Your big brother-”

“and sister.” Rosie adds as she leans in to press her ear to your stomach. You smile, tears in your eyes and look up to see Dieter walk into the living room.

“You called baby?” He asks, paint splattered all over him from painting the new nursery.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Can you- can you get me some ice cream?” You bite your lip, knowing he’s been run ragged with your cravings.

Dieter grins, shoving his hand through his paint flecked hair, although he teases that the gray is because of you and the babies. “What kind of ice cream do you want, babe?” He strides over and rubs your bump before dropping a kiss on your lips. “Rocky road or are you wanting that cheesecake strawberry swirl?” He knows you will probably text him with more cravings, but he doesn’t mind. You are carrying his baby and you get what you want.

You smile at him, loving how flustered he looks when he has to go get your cravings, and you run your fingers over the kids’ heads before they look up at Dieter.

“Can we have ice cream, daddy?” Rosie asks, that pout she definitely got from Dieter on her face.

Oliver nods, “yes! Vanilla.”

Rosie shakes her head, “chocolate!”

You giggle and look at your husband, “I’ll have rocky road. Guess it’s an ice cream day.” You say and the kids cheer, excited to have ice cream.

“Vanilla, chocolate and rocky road.” Dieter nods, smiling down at the kids. He could never deny them much and while they would be considered spoiled, they were very well behaved. “Oh-“ he snaps his fingers. “Before I forget. The management agency called. They found another renter for the house and said that the repairs for the house were minimal, just paint to freshen up.”

True to his word, he had bought you a house, deeded it in your name and hired a management company to handle the day to day issues and repairs. All of the profits were deposited into a bank account that was solely yours, even though you had access to everything of Dieter’s. “So that’s a weight off before the baby comes.”

The money going into that bank account is going to pay for the kids’ college. You won’t use it for yourself, not when you are happily married to Dieter. “Yes. Glad they managed to find another tenant.” You smile, reaching for his hand to kiss the back of it.

“Daddy!” Oliver rushes over to him after shifting off of the sofa.

“Yeah, buddy?” Dieter groans as he bends over to pick him up.

“Can I come? To get ice cream?” He asks and Dieter nods, “of course.” You smile, loving how close Oliver and Dieter are. You adopted Rosie and he adopted Oliver not long after you were married. It felt natural and meant to be. Your little family, complicated but perfect.

“We will be right back. Rosie, you wanna come?” Dieter asks and she shakes her head, climbing onto the sofa.

“I wanna stay with mommy.” You pull her close, “we can watch our show while the boys are out.” You tell her in a playful whisper and she grins.

“We will be back soon.” Dieter promises and you smirk at him, “after ice cream, the kids need to nap. Mommy needs ‘nap time’ too.” You say to Dieter and he smirks back at you, “what mommy wants, mommy gets.” He promises, knowing he wants you to moan his name while the kids are asleep. From Rosie getting shoved into his arms on a random day, to having a family with a baby on the way. Dieter never imagined being a family man but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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