#plus size babe

[conchacrumb]

i ❤️ sluts

[andrea-quinn]

come play with my belly 🩷 or really anything you want to play with ;3

[intrinsicmotives]

03.23🌻

[smallmeanie]

got u giggling like a piglet / oh that’s the ticket

[under-wtx-skies]

I need to redo this photo now that I have a chest piece. 👀💜

[conchacrumb]

[strawberryblossom29]

Summery: Arthur had a rough week at work and you’re looking to help him relax.

~

Word count: 2.4k

Modern AU - husband!Arthur x wife!reader

Tags - fluff, no smut, soft romance, pregnancy, mentions of smut, trying to put a fluffy buffer amongst the kinktober posts, MDNI, plus size woman

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Sweet Conversations

Evening routines have settled in your home tonight. Soft lights, smells of fresh laundry and remnants of a home cooked meal lingered. The soft hum of the dishwasher running through its cycle, and the tv hummed softly with an old western movie playing as Arthur sat on the couch sipping on a whiskey.

He absentmindedly scrolled through his phone reading the news when he heard you humming in the kitchen as you wrapped dinner up. The sounds of the sink running as you washed the bigger dishes that didn’t fit in the dishwasher.

He closed his eyes and listened more as you moved throughout the rest of the

house with your evening routines. Making sure the doors were locked, turning off the outside lights, turning off some of the small lights in the foyer. He opened his eyes when you walked into the living room and folded a blanket over your favorite arm chair. It was your spot. Always a stack of books next to it and random bits of paper or playing cards or even mail stuck between some of them used as book marks. Arthur always chuckled to himself when he would help pick up and then question why an unpaid bill was stuck in your book being used as a bookmark.

He could never stay upset when you gave him an innocent look and wrapped your arms around his neck as you’d kiss all over his face to try and distract him.

As you shuffled into the living room and saw Arthur staring off into space, in his own world as you folded your blanket. You walked to him and took the glass from his hand, a puzzled look on his face when you set it on the coffee table in front of him, turning to him. You straddle his thick, muscular thighs and put your hands on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. Your swollen belly pressing against his, hands roaming across his broad chest slowly. You lean down to kiss his stubbly cheek, “You doin’ okay, honey?” you ask softly. “I’m okay, darlin’. Just thinking about work,” he admits softly, looking up at you. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about. Maybe your amazing wife can give you some insight,” you say softly nuzzling your nose into his cheek. “Mm probably not. Unless you want to come to work and yell at everyone to start hauling ass. Getting backed up, and it’s getting to me,” he said dryly. He was co-owner of a local mechanic’s shop that also did detailing. He and his friend John started this business together with another one of their friends Charles. “Finding good help is hard anymore. People that actually wanna work,” he grumbles. You smile and push his overgrown hair out of his face, “I’m sorry, my love. I could yell at them, or maybe I can bribe them with a good dinner. I can stop by with some good food and a dessert. Maybe that’ll lift a few spirits. I bet half of them eat fast food or think energy drinks and a cigarette are a meal,” you say with a sigh, picking lint off his shirt. “As long as you’re my dessert,” he smiles and rubs your belly slowly, moving closer to kiss your neck. You tilt your head back and close your eyes as you let him kiss on you. “Always, my love,” you sigh softly.

You look down at him and cup his cheeks gently, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. You joinin’ me?” you ask softly with a pat on his chest. “I’ll be there in a minute. Gonna finish this,” he refers to the drink you put on the table. You give him a soft peck before getting off his lap and going to your bedroom upstairs. He listened to you hum the whole way upstairs, a soft melody floating down the stairs. It was a sign you were happy and content. He always said that when you don’t sing or hum, there’s something wrong. “Birds stop singing when bad weather is comin’. Tell me your troubles, darlin’ so I can keep the bad weather away and keep listenin’.” Arthur had once said to you when you had a disagreement.

Arthur eventually had enough of his warm whiskey before he got up and put the glass in the sink. He shut off the few final lamps around the lower half of the house before retreating up to your bedroom.

Before he walked into the room, the smell of your lotion wafted through his nose. The one you used every night before bed, soft floral notes that were also a little fruity. Like peaches or strawberries. He walked into your bedroom but didn’t see you right away, “Darlin’?” he called out. “In the closet changing,” you call back. With padded feet, he walks over to his side of the bed and empties his pockets, shedding his day clothes with a toss into the hamper from where he stood. He still listened to you sing some random old western song as he got into bed, but stopped mid blanket fluff when you walked out, eyes almost bugging out of his head. Heat coursed through his body as he looked you up and down. You were glowing. In the soft light of your bedroom, it highlighted your skin perfectly. You wore a light pink, lacy baby doll nighty with your hair loose around your shoulders in waves from the braid you had it in earlier. Thanks to being with child, your breasts were twice the size they normally were, and he watched the way your large breasts bounced beneath the pink fabric, the fabric straining to keep them in place.

You sat down at your vanity with a soft sigh and went to take your wedding rings off when Arthur was suddenly in front of you, “Let me,” he says in his gruff but gentle voice. You look up at him confused when he reaches for your lotion and sinks to his knees. “Arthur, what’re you doin’?” you question him with a confused look. “Darlin’, you’re carrying our son. You shouldn’t have to bend over to do this,” he says while pumping lotion into his palm, “Pretty sure that’s how I ended up lookin’ like an elephant,” you mumble which makes Arthur bark with laughter, “What? You do not look like an elephant,” he says while rubbing the lotion into your feet, making you sigh, “You are glowing… Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Carrying life in you. Our life,” he continues as he works up your ankle and calves, “I hope he gets your kindness. Always finding beauty in the situation. You’re smart, hell, smarter than most people I know,” he smiles up at you and can see you’re crying, “Hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Awh shit…I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he says as he wraps his arms around your thighs, “N-nothing bad, just pregnancy hormones. That’s just kind of you to say. Even looking like an elephant,” you try to chuckle and wipe your tears away.

He leans up and kisses your cheeks where the tears stopped, kissing down to your lips slowly. He gives you a couple of pecks before pulling back, “I love you, darlin’,” he says softly, “I love you too, Arthur,” you smile down at him. He helps you put lotion on your arms before helping you up. He didn’t see you grab the bottle before you two got into bed, “On your stomach, Mr. Morgan,” you say with a pat on the blankets. It was his turn to look confused, “What? Why on my stomach? You gonna do somethin’ weird?” he teases but does as you ask. “Nothing weird. You take care of me, and I take care of you. That’s one of the joys of marriage,” you say softly and crawl over his waist so you’re sitting on his rear. “And the other joys?” he asks as he glances back at you, “As a result of said joy, you’re getting a son,” you smile with a poke to his back. “Damn right,” he smirks and gets comfortable. His chin rests on his arms as you start to rub his back slowly, loving how broad he was. Freckles sprinkled over his skin from working in the sun with no shirt on (your favorite way to watch him work with sweat and car grease covering his arms), muscles showing definition but still held a little pudge around his waist.

As you work on his muscles, you can feel him relax more as he loosens up. You hum softly as you work on his back, taking your time in areas that make him groan more. Eventually you hear soft snores come from Arthur. You smile to yourself and, as slowly as you can, move off his body as you can get into bed without disturbing him. “Who said you could move?” he grumbles and you stop in place, “A sleeping husband is who,” you smile and get in your spot, sitting half up so you can finish the book that was sitting on your nightstand. Arthur crawls up to you and lays down on his side to face you, a hand roaming over your belly, “Hey you, gotta listen in there. Don’t be giving your mama a hard time now, ya hear?” he says softly against your belly, gently tapping a spot with his fingertip.

You put a hand in his hair and slowly play with the strands as he continues to talk to the baby, “Can’t wait to meet you, little man. Teach you things my old man taught me, be kind like your mama, tough like her too,” he says with a kiss to your belly. He pushes his cheek against your belly when a small kick can be felt, “Oh, really? Gonna be feisty like her too, huh? I’m gonna be in trouble with the two of you. Ganging up on me,” he chuckles. “You’re both going to give me a run for my money if he’s got a big ass head like yours,” you tease with a chuckle. “Not nice, woman,” he says as he pulls himself up to you. He puts a hand under your belly and kisses your shoulder, “I really am gonna take care of the two of you. Teach’em things so he’s smart and can get a good job. Show him how to treat women, especially his mama,” he says as he pulls himself up to you, slipping one arm around your shoulders as he pulls you close and one on your belly to rest there. “I think we’re gonna be okay. I’m scared that we will mess up, but I am excited all the same,” you say with a sigh. “We’re gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out like we always do,” he kisses the side of your head. “Wanna read to the baby?” you ask as you pick up the book from your nightstand. “You don’t want to listen to my voice. Sounds like shit. How ‘bout we listen to you, sweetheart,” he says while cozying into your side. “Okay, but next time you’re reading,” you say with a gentle peck to his lips, “Of course, Mrs. Morgan,” he says softly.

[intrinsicmotives]