#talks about** her mom to marcus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wardenparker · 7 months

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Mother Knows Best

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, meddling mama, cursing, reader is an unapologetic nerd, flirting with books, BDSM mention (but no portrayal), vagina sex, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise and a little dirty talk. Summary: Marcus Pike's mother has a tendency to overstep a little. While she means well, any time she has ever tried to set him up it has always turned out terribly. This time, though, she's pretty sure she has it right when she arranges for Marcus to go on a blind date with the youngest member of her book club. Notes: This all kind of sprang out of a TikTok I found about a bookshop date idea. And I'm not sorry about it in the least. Also, subtle shout out to my brother-in-law's band is buried in conversation 🎶

"Marcus sweetie, what are you doing on Saturday?" Donna Pike is pulling weeds in her garden with her younger son in a lounge chair nearby, and she tries to make the question as nonchalant as possible. It's Sunday now and she might as well be asking what he wants for dinner. Although her idea of what he might be doing for dinner on the night in question is almost definitely different than whatever Marcus might have in mind. He has been back in Washington D.C. for almost four months and has spent the whole time sulking – something that no mother likes to see.

Marcus is probably more relaxed than he's been in a few months. Finally deciding that he is better off without Teresa since she would rather be with someone else more than him. His eyes half closed as he holds his beer, he answers without even thinking about it. Or why giving his mother an empty day without plans wasn't a good idea. "Nothing." He hums, smiling slightly at the thought of not having any work or responsibilities.

"Oh?" Donna smirks, glancing over her shoulder to see Marcus has his eyes shut as he sits in the sun. "No dinner plans? Drinks with coworkers?" She asks carefully, keeping her tone breezy as she weeds the tomato bed.

"Not a damn thing." He admits again, not seeing the smirk on his mother's face, otherwise alarm bells would be sounding in his head. Instead, he's plotting what he will do with his day off. Hopefully sleeping until ten is the first thing on the list. Then he might take a book out to the Mall lawn and read in the sun. Pick up one of those touristy drinks to sip on as he does.

"So..." Training one eye on him as she pulls another weed up from the root, Donna's lip curls into a smile. "You would be free for dinner, then?"

"You want me to take you to dinner?" Marcus's father passed nearly eight years ago and when he could, he would take his mother out to a nice dinner. Making sure that she felt special. "Sure."

"Not exactly what I had in mind, sweetie." Donna is all-out grinning at this point, and maybe even a little evilly. "Do you remember my telling you about a new girl joining our book club? She works with Marjorie Klein at the Library of Congress?" Every time Marjorie talked about her new colleague it seemed like the younger woman would be a perfect fit for their group, so six months ago they had offered up the empty spot at their table. Now, every time Donna Pike sees or hears from you, she seems to become more and more convinced that you would be perfect for her youngest child.

"Mom...no." Marcus shakes his head and immediately drowns the rest of his beer bottle and desperately wishes another would appear. "No, no, you aren't setting me up, again."

"But Marcus she's such a good match!" She won't say 'perfect' because that will make Marcus revolt and probably run away screaming. But she has such a good feeling about this one. "And I might have already scheduled the date with her..." Might is such an innocent lie. She definitely already scheduled the blind date with you after giving you a few background details on her baby boy.

“Mooooooooooom.” The sigh Marcus gives is one of extreme frustration. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but no. I can get my own dates.” The truth was, his mother had horrible taste in choosing women that she thought Marcus would be interested in.

"Oh yeah?" Donna tucks her proverbial tongue securely in her cheek. "Is that why you've been hanging around your old Ma's house so much the last few months? Because you're so good at getting your own dates?" She tilts her head at him and waves one hand, dismissing the tease immediately. "She's sweet, Marcus. And so smart. You don't have to marry the girl, but it's hard to get back out there sometimes. Just...give it a try?"

“It’s— I just got out of that thing with Teresa, Ma.” He reminds her and notices the expectant look on his mother’s face. She’s well meaning, really she is, but god does she meddle. “You already told her I would go out with her, didn’t you?”

“The thing with Teresa was months ago.” Donna’s grin spreads like wildfire. “She’s a nice girl and I called in a favor to get you a table at Founding Farmer’s because I know you like to keep the first date kind of casual.” Something she considers a mistake, but she knew that if she had gone and made a reservation somewhere more upscale then Marcus would squawk.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus groans, slapping his hand over his face and imagining how boring and completely incompatible this woman is for his mother to talk about how nice and sweet she is. All the other girls she has tried to hook Marcus up with since he was a teenager have been a train wreck. “What time?” He sighs, resigned to his Saturday being ruined.

“Seven-thirty.” Crows his mother, who definitely made sure that the reservation was early enough in the night that they could do something else afterward. “I really think you’re going to like her, sweetie.”

He thinks he’ll be wasting an hour of his life but he grunts in response, already dreading Saturday.

******

You’re probably taking this far too seriously, all things considered. The book club of mostly middle-aged and older ladies that you had been offered a place in by one of your coworkers has been really nice. Everybody sits around and drinks and gossips about the book characters like they’re real people, and there is always good food. You like the ladies in the book club, you really do. But this whole idea of a blind date with Donna Pike’s son has you nervous for some reason.

Blind dates don’t typically go well for you but you’re honestly kind of desperate. It’s been nearly a year since your last date that even qualifies as mediocre and at this point you would say yes to just about anyone halfway decent. And with that in mind, you kiss your cat goodbye and smooth one hand down your floral sundress before slinging on your leather jacket to keep out the autumnal chill. If nothing else, maybe you’ll have a nice meal tonight.

Marcus sighs as he checks his reflection in the mirror one more time. He had opted to leave the suit at home, but couldn’t dress down completely casual. The restaurant that his mom had chosen would be nice enough that slacks, a polo and a sports coat wouldn’t look too out of place. Despite his reservations, he is wanting to make an effort. He sniffs his cologne to make sure he didn’t douse himself and picks up his keys. Off to see what a nightmare this would be, although he hopes that this girl won’t throw a glass of wine in his face when he reveals he’s a federal agent.

Founding Farmer’s is bustling when you arrive, packed to the gills and you wonder if the younger Pike brother thought to make reservations. For now you adjust the (admittedly cheesy) flower in your jacket lapel and slide over to the bar to order a cocktail. If he stands you up, you at least want to have a drink in hand to soothe the embarrassment.

There had been a fierce internal debate on if he should stop outside the little flower stand that was just a block down from the restaurant to buy some flowers. Romantic Marcus would do it, and even though he had not asked this girl out, she deserves the niceties that had been bred into him after watching his father continuously court his mother through their marriage. When he enters the door of the Founding Farmer's, he can see why he had to park two blocks away and is grateful that his mother had made reservations. "I— I have a reservation. Marcus Pike." He tells the frazzled hostess. "But I'm waiting for someone...." He cranes his neck to look around, not sure exactly who he is looking for. His mother had been very vague with the physical description, which doesn't help on a blind date.

You hear him before you see him — sitting just a few feet behind the hostess stand is strategic, and you hear him give his name. The most careful sneak of a peak nearly has your jaw on the ground and you sit straight up again immediately. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely drop-dead movie star level gorgeous. And he’s carrying flowers identical to the one tucked into your jacket, making you smile unexpectedly. “Marcus?” You turn slowly on your stool, hoping you’re not about to make an idiot of yourself.

He hears his name and looks around again, his eyes searching until they fall on a lovely looking woman wearing a pretty sundress and jacket. A flower in her lapel in a move that immediately makes him grin at the old-style charm of the gesture. He nods and says the name his mother gave him, finding himself hoping that you are that person.

“That’s me.” Sliding off of your stool with your glass in hand, you put out your other hand to him and smile. His mother absolutely failed to mention that her son is an absolute dreamboat. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I feel like I’ve heard a hundred stories about you and your brother already.”

You're pretty. Maybe it's shallow, or vain even, but Marcus had been worried when his mother had focused so hard on how nice and sweet you are. He's not the type of man who insults someone because of their looks, but physical attraction is a basic for any romantic relationship and some of the women who would be just ‘perfect’ for him in his mother's eyes didn't fit in any of the categories. Not even intellectually. He shakes your hand firmly and smiles. "It's all lies, I swear." He jokes, offering you the flowers. "I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage because I know your name and that you are sweet."

"The ladies in the book club sort of adopted me." The flowers are beautiful, and fresh, and you inhale the scent happily as the hostess leads you to a small, secluded table in the corner. "And I..." You laugh self-consciously, shrugging a little. "I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. It was all Donna's idea. So if we don't get along or something, it's no hard feelings."

"I have to apologize." Marcus shakes his head, enjoying the sounds of your light, nervous laugh. "My mother likes to meddle, so if you weren't actually interested, I will understand." He moves to pull out your chair for you when the hostess indicates the table and looks at you expectantly. It's your choice if you wish to sit down or not.

Maybe it's shallow – to take one look at him and know for sure that you're at least going to ride out this dinner to see what he's like. But then, isn't that what blind dates are, at least a little? Judging a book by its cover and then taking a peek to see what's inside? "I think it would be a shame to miss out on making a new friend, even if that's all this amounts to," you tell him as you sit down.

He can agree with that, admire it even. Smiling again and he wonders if that's all this will amount to. "What are you drinking?" He asks, nodding towards your glass that you had brought from the bar.

"It's called a Farmer's Daughter," you tell him, holding up the half-drunk glass of delicious fruity-boozy goodness. "Vodka, lime, passion fruit, raspberry...something else that I didn't know what it was so I can't remember what it's called. Domaine de something?" Shrugging shelf-consciously, you offer him the glass to try a sip. "It's fantastic."

It's charming the way you offer him a drink. He takes it and tries a small sip. "That's good." He agrees. "I was going to suggest a bottle of wine, but perhaps another of these?" He asks you.

The hostess nods and disappears after leaving your menus, and you sit back in your seat a little bit more comfortably than before. "This place has their own spirits. It seemed too good to pass up, and turns out that was the right choice." A small smile plays on your lips and you really don't know where it's coming from but you feel strangely confident tonight. "So you're usually a wine guy?"

“I am.” He nods, knowing that he would happily split a bottle with good conversation and laughs. “Are you more of a cocktail girl?”

"Usually." Again, you shrug, but offer him a smile. "But only because I know nothing about wine. I'd like to learn, if I found that I knew somebody who wouldn't mind teaching me."

“Well, if you like, we can have one more of those delicious cocktails and I’ll order a bottle of my favorite wine for you to try?” He offers. “Or perhaps just a glass to share, and if you don’t like it, we can explore what you do like?”

"That sounds like fun, actually." Normally when a guy offered to 'teach' you something it was just him insisting that he knew all the best of something or had every fact memorized. Marcus isn't like that and you relax just a little bit more with this discovery. A little bit of sharing and get to know you is perfect for a first date.

“Yeah?” He grins and nods, admiring your sense of adventure and that smile that you are giving him. “Okay, so the wine I like is kinda of dry, a red. That sound okay?”

"Sure." You agree brightly, basically up for trying whatever he suggests. "Like I said, I know nothing about wine. You could be ordering the stuff that comes in a box and I would just trust you that it's good."

He laughs, enjoying your honestly. “No boxed stuff, I promise.” He tells you and thanks the waiter when he comes back with your cocktail. “I’m sorry, but could we also have a glass of the Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva 2012?” He asks with a small shrug. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted, and now I do.”

Oblivious to the fact that that could have been an entendre, the waiter just nods and walks away, leaving the two of you alone at your cozy table again. "So..." you can't help the way your cheeks have gotten a little warmer in the last few seconds. "Is there anything you would like to know about me up front? You said your mother didn't tell you much."

“She did tell me that you work at the Library of Congress.” Marcus nudges the new drink towards you and takes the half finished one. He’s already drank after you, so it’s nothing to him. “So what do you do there?”

"I am a preservationist in the Children's Literature Center." Your work is delicate, and it is important, but some people find it unbelievable that your entire career is dedicated specifically to kids' books. "I'm part of the team that is digitizing rare children's books so that their contents will never be lost."

“Wow.” He’s impressed, knowing that is important work. Literature sound be preserved for the future generations to enjoy, much like art. “That’s— that’s gotta be pretty interesting day in and day out.”

“It’s no game of cops and robbers.” His mother had bragged about his promotions more than once, and you can’t help but smirk slightly when his ears turn red. “But I keep busy.”

“So you know that I’m a federal agent?” He asks, not sure what all his mother had rambled on about. Knowing her, she had told you about every girlfriend he had.

“Yes. Donna is extremely proud of you, so we all heard all about the last promotion.” Taking a sip of your drink, you feel just a touch of warmth is your cheeks that is all attraction and not from the cocktail at all. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He bites his lip, caught between being embarrassed his mom was talking him up and enjoying the congratulations. The joy of his success has been sucked away by the Teresa thing, but he’s been trying to get back on track. “She’s just happy I’m close.”

“She’s very glad you’re home.” You can absolutely attest to that. It’s sweet, actually. They clearly get along well. “It sounds like if she could get your older brother to move back, she’d be in heaven having you both here.”

“Don’t think he’ll be moving to D.C. anytime soon.” Marcus admits. “But she’s happy to get out of the cold to go visit him during Christmas.”

“Louisiana always sounded like fun to be. Like a completely different world from anywhere else.” Probably that thought comes from having grown up in the thick of the Canadian border, but still. It seemed romantic to think about. “She said he’s in New Orleans?”

“Yeah.” He nods and grins. “He keeps telling me to come down for Mardi Gras.”

“Sounds like fun.” He has just one perfect dimple and you swear this is the first time you’ve understood why anyone would swoon. “Are you liking being back in DC, at least?”

“What’s not to love?” He asks, looking up again when the waiter returns with the glass of wine. “The museum, the Mall, the historic sites. I love walking through the Smithsonian.”

“I will absolutely drink to that,” you agree without hesitation. “This city is pretty much perfect as far as I’m concerned.”

He hums as he hands you the glass. “Try a sip of this, it’s dry but floral. I love this with a good cheese board.”

“A charcuterie guy, too? Nothing I love more than Adult Lunchables.” The grin on your face grows as you take the glass, giving it a sniff like you have any idea whatsoever what to look for, and take an adventurous sip. “Ooh that’s…I don’t know what I was expecting but that’s great. It’s like…it’s rich but it’s not heavy, if that makes sense?”

He nods and grins at you. “Now, imagine it with a funky cheese and a tart grape. Or a salty cracker.” He tells you, proud that you enjoy it. “Maybe a glass with dinner?”

“Absolutely.” It’s like a wake up for your senses, and even though you enjoy the sweet cocktail that you had ordered initially, the wine sounds like a decadent and very mature option for dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’ll order for food yet?”

“I figured I was going to order the braised short ribs with wilted summer greens and braised carrots.” He tells you, having looked at the menu before he ever arrived.

“Sounds pretty perfect.” When the waiter comes back you fill out your order, getting a basket of the kettle corn that the waiter gushes over to start with and ordering your dinners with another glass of wine so you can both indulge a little as you get to know each other.

“So, were you as nervous about tonight as I was?” The wine is being passed back and forth between you as your cocktail has been abandoned. He takes a sip and raises a brow at you in challenge.

"Terrified," you admit with a small laugh, but there is no point in trying to act smooth or more charming than you are. You're a slightly awkward person in general, and sometimes that can be charming all on its own. Or so you've been told. "I'm not...great at dating. Then the book club ladies took it upon themselves to figure out whose son was closest to my age and, well...here we are."

He laughs at the image you paint, all the ladies tossing out their eligible sons’ birthdays like trading cards. “Well, hopefully, you are enjoying yourself.” He offers with a grin, setting his elbows on the table and leaning in. The liquor and wine are loosening him up slightly, but it’s more that he’s enjoying conversing with you. Something he’s really missed about dating or being in a relationship with someone.

"I really am." His laugh is deep and rings in his chest, making his smile a little broader every time and making you wish that you had thought of something compelling or deeply interesting to tell him about yourself before setting foot in this restaurant tonight. But you had feared the worst, and expected the mediocre, so maybe that was the entire reason you found yourself enjoying this night? Simply by being handsome, intelligent, charming, and interesting, he was already blowing every single expectation you had out of the water. "Hopefully you are, too?"

“I am.” He gives you a small, self-conscious shrug. “My mother doesn’t have the best record when it comes to setting me up.” He admits. “The last one was a part of some antigovernment group and threw a glass of wine in my face when she found out I was, quote, a ‘fed pig’.” He tells you with the air quotes.

“That…” It takes a beat of extreme self-control not to laugh at how ridiculous that is, but you manage to keep yourself together. “Please say she didn’t know that this girl was anti-government when she set you up?”

“She had met her in her favorite bookstore.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Didn’t have a clue but she had to find another bookstore because it was the girl behind the counter.”

“But she tries to find you girls that read, huh?” That encourages you a bit. That Donna considers her son that intelligent. After all, he can’t be a slouch – not in art crimes. He has to at least have a little history and culture under his belt.

“I don’t want to always talk work, or politics.” He admits. “She had raised me to love reading and I’m forever grateful for that.”

“What do you like to read?” The question is automatic for you – something that you always ask new acquaintances and especially dates. It’s an important part of getting to know someone. “Personal curiosity as well as professional. I promise.”

“I can read anything.” Marcus tells you. “But, I spend so much time reading reports that I really enjoy fiction. Thrillers, intrigue. Even the odd romance novel.” He blushes when he admits that but he’s not going to lie.

“A good romance novel is entirely underrated. They’re great character studies. Plus?” You grin and pick up a piece of popcorn. There are only a few left in the basket and you’re enjoying the salty-sweetness with his dry wine. “Anyone who claims they don’t enjoy love stories is either lying or a bummer.”

“It’s like not liking classic movies.” He agrees with a grin. “I feel like some of the emotion has been lost. You give me Casablanca any day and I’ll show you a movie that is about loss as much as it is love.”

“I dumped a guy once for not liking classic movies,” you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. “He said that black and white was dumb because life is in color so ‘why weren’t all movies?’ And that all the stories were too trope-y. Can you believe that? Where did he think the tropes came from in the first place?”

“They are the model for the tropes.” He chuckles. “We had a class when I was in high school where you read classic literature and watched classic movies. I think it should be standard around the country. It helped shape my love of black and white movies.”

“I used to watch them with my mom whenever I was home sick.” Those memories are still so vivid for you, and precious. It had felt like a personal insult and not just a preference when the previous guy had talked down about classic cinema. “She got to see Katharine Hepburn in Coco in New York City when she was little and just worshipped her ever since. So, of course, I did too. And we would just watch everything we could get our hands on.”

“Oh wow.” Marcus is impressed and he shows it. “It would have been something, I’m sure.” He agrees. “I’m not all classical though. I like a good mix of modern as well. My old band used to play in Texas and I would go see them.”

“That’s right.” Donna had told you all about his band, of course, but it had slipped your mind while you got distracted over how attractive Marcus is. “Bass player, right?”

“Yeah.” He huffs out a small laugh, wondering if his mother had complained that he hadn’t wanted to cut his hair when he was playing, or if she was bragging. “And some vocals. Mainly backup.”

“Don’t downplay it.” You grin, watching his cheeks turn pink yet again. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. And getting on stage? I think I’d panic. That’s something you can be really proud of.”

“It’s not that bad.” Marcus tells you. “Just pick the prettiest girl and imagine them – uh –” he falters for a second. “Kissing you.” He supplies.

“Is that how you get past stage fright?” You have definitely never heard of that particular tactic before and you nearly giggle with how embarrassed Marcus looks admitting it. “Seems like we ought to get you back on stage then, shouldn’t we? That’s a very nice fantasy to let yourself play out.”

“Nahhh it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a stage.” He admits. “I like to just drink a beer and dance with the pretty girl.”

“Oh yeah?” The impulse to insinuate yourself into that situation is deep but you just smile, knowing very well that your cheeks and ears are burning with the thought. “Sounds…pretty perfect.”

“Yeah?” He grins and there’s a partial idea forming for later tonight if the rest of dinner goes like it is now. “Does it sound good to you?” He asks. “What’s your ideal date?”

“I—” Clearing your throat slightly, your skin burns even more. “Dinner and dancing, probably? Or going to see a screening of an old movie together.” Taking a sip of the wine before you hand it back to him, you brace yourself for the tingle you’ve been getting whenever your fingers brush. “I saw a TikTok the other day of a bookstore date, too. That looked fun.”

“A bookstore date?” He’s intrigued on that what that would entail. He leans in and snags the wine glass to take another sip. He should really order another glass so you each have your own, but there is something oddly fun about sharing. “Tell me about that.”

“It’s silly.” But somehow, you think he might like silly. “There’s this list of prompts. And you roll a die to see which prompt you get and you’re supposed to go all over the bookstore looking for a book to read that fits the prompts. It’s…to a librarian it sounds fantastic…choosing books for each other and having an automatic something to talk about on the next date, ya know?”

“That sounds like a great date.” Marcus agrees, liking the adventurousness of it. “A really good date. Maybe even you have to call the other person to read them a portion of the book that appeals to you.”

“I haven’t had anybody read to me in ages…” You can feel how soft you get in response to the idea but you just can’t seem to care. Every few minutes Marcus Pike seems to get more and more perfect. “That sounds absolutely dreamy.”

“You haven’t?” He’s surprised at that, and then there’s a little fantasy that plays out in his head. Calling you every night that he could and reading a few paragraphs to you while you are snuggled in your bed. “Maybe that will change.” He hums.

"I think I'd like that." The way he says it makes you feel so hopeful, like maybe this night is going as well for him as it is for you, and you bite your lip to hold back a full-force grin. "I think I'd like that a whole lot."

Marcus actually hates when the waiter comes back to order the meals, allowing you to order first and he puts in his order for his own meal and asks for another glass of wine. “Do you want one, or do you want to keep sharing?”

"I'm not going to lie, I kind of like the sharing," you admit with an embarrassed grin. This waiter just smiles politely and steps away, having seen plenty of good and bad dates over his career and not really thinking anything of the request.

“I like it too.” He admits with a matching grin. “Although if we order dessert, we’ll need to change to different wine.” He tells you.

"Ah, so my education continues?" He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't thinking about it in the back of his mind, and that makes your smile grow. "I know I've seen Dessert wines listed on menus before but other than knowing they exist, I don't think I could name anything else about them."

“They are sweeter, crisper.” He tells you. “Meant to enhance the flavor of the desserts. We will have to see if we have room.” He grins. “My sides are meant to be shared.”

“Maybe we’ll have to come back?” You venture, hopeful at the idea that tonight is going well enough to lead to a second date.

“It is a very good wine list.” He tells you with a grin. “Although there’s this little place down near the Potomac that is a wine bar paired with your – what did you call it? Adult Lunchables?” He tilts his head. “I think you might like that.”

The fact that he picks up on the thread immediately makes you flush warm again and grin so broadly that your cheeks ache. “It sounds perfect,” you admit. “Although I think Donna might float just a little if she finds out we’re planning date number two before the entree is even served on date number one.”

“We don’t have to tell her.” His own grin turns slightly mischievous. “Let her dangle for a bit before we let her know about that. It’ll drive her crazy.”

"You know I'm going to get just as many voicemails as you, right?" The devilish smile highlights his dimple far too perfectly and just about has you swooning, but you manage to keep it down to just a girlish giggle. "Are you going to be a bad influence on me, Marcus?"

“Depends on what you think is bad.” Marcus quips, winking at you as he leans back. You are charming, funny, sweet. All things that his mother had noted but he’s also attracted to you. And thoroughly enjoying this date.

Confidence looks very fucking sexy on him, and you end up leaning forward instinctively when he leans back, like he's pulling a string somewhere inside your ribcage when he goes. "Maybe I like bad. And I'm just making sure I'm going to enjoy myself?"

There’s a split second where Marcus has a choice on if he’s going to make a dirty innuendo, just like you have. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.” He promises, that grin turning slightly salacious. “Multiple times.”

He knows full fucking well what he’s doing, and the poorly timed sip of wine you have just taken nearly comes out your nose when you quickly cover your mouth with one hand to keep from spitting it everywhere or even choking on it. “Guarantee, huh?” When you can breathe again and don’t have wine in your mouth anymore, you manage to raise one steady eyebrow at him. “You’re a very confident man, Agent Pike.”

“It’s a money back kind of thing.” He teases, enjoying the easy banter and the fact that you are leaning into the atmosphere rather than getting offended by it.

“Oh, I see.” You tease right back, loving the freedom in the atmosphere between you. “So I’m investing in my future enjoyment?”

“Exactly.” He hums, nodding in an exaggerated manner. “You understand perfectly.”

******

“I don’t think I can do it,” you groan playfully, looking over the empty plates of the amazing dinner you just shared and knowing that dessert would have disastrous consequences. “I think I might pop like a balloon.”

“It was a lot of food.” Marcus admits, his own stomach edging just on the cusp of being overly full. “Plus the wine. So I don’t think I can make room either.” He sighs and leans back to rub his belly just to tease.

“It’s a good thing it’s a beautiful night for a walk.” The thought had been brewing for a while, and you offer Marcus a hopeful smile. “Only if you’re up for it, of course.”

“Absolutely.” The check is discreetly placed by his elbow and he shakes his head when you move to your purse. “This is my treat.” He insists, pulling out his wallet and putting his credit card down without glancing at the bill.

“Then next time will be mine,” you insist, having a feeling that Marcus is not at all the kind of guy to let that fly, but at the same time you have to wonder when the last time was that he allowed anyone to take care of him.

He hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. “So, where would you like to walk?” He asks. “There’s a lot of little shops and bars nearby.”

Pennsylvania Avenue is certainly lively, and since you had taken the Metro you don’t particularly care what direction you head in. “We could always head toward the Mall and let ourselves get distracted along the way?” You suggest, wanting to leave the night wide open for anything or everything.

“That sounds good to me.” Marcus brought his car, but the neighborhood is relatively safe and the parking isn’t by the hours. “Do you have comfortable enough shoes on?” He hadn’t noticed your footwear, but he wants to check.

“I’m not really a heels kind of girl,” you admit, hoping that that won’t break some kind of weird unconscious rule he has in his head. You’ve been told before that you should dress more femininely but the idea that high heels are the only feminine footwear seems utterly ridiculous. “And I’m always up for a walk.”

“That’s good.” He chuckles and when both of you stand from the table he kicks out a foot and shows his comfortable loafers. “I have to wear dress shoes at work, but I’m never going to bash comfortable footwear.”

“I learned a long time ago that knee-high boots go with almost any dress or skirt.” You take his arm when he offers it – very gentlemanly – and before you know it you’re out in the crisp night air. The moon is high and the streetlamps are bright, and you sigh a little contentment. Tonight is so, so much better than you thought it was going to be.

“That sigh is either a very good sign or a bad one.” He teases, looking over at you with a playful grin. “Can I ask which?”

“It’s good, I promise.” And as if to prove you, you send him a beaming smile. “I was just thinking how nice the night is, that’s all.”

“It is a nice night.” Marcus agrees. The air has just a bite to it without being bitter and yet it is still cozy. The dark night is illuminated by the streetlamps and the noise from bars and shops spills out onto the sidewalk in muted tones. “It seems magical, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” You agree with a grin, but for you, that magic is pouring off him – not the street around you.

******

“Hey look.” It’s a building that he hasn’t really noticed before but maybe it’s because he hadn’t been looking for it before. “Do you want to stop?”

“Sure.” You’d agree to almost anything right now and you shrug. “What is it?”

“Well, the name is Tomes and Tannins, so I’m thinking it might be one of those trendy wine shop slash bookstores?” He grins at you. “Why don’t we find out?”

“That is a level of fancy I never thought I would reach,” you admit with a grin and let him lead you inside. It’s deceptively mood-lit inside but with enough supplemental lights that you can read everything you need to, and there are cafe tables with chairs smattered around some mismatched armchairs and ever sofas with drink tables at either end. It’s cozy and welcoming, and obviously meant for you to stay a while.

“Hmmm this looks promising, right?” He asks, looking to see if you approve. “Interesting place.”

“Books and wine? Sounds amazing and looks even better.” A beaming smile of affirmation is all for him and you nudge him toward the stacks. “Where do you want to start?”

“Well…” he smirks slightly. “Show me that date idea that you liked? Picking out books for the other to read?”

“Oh!” Somehow you had already forgotten, and grin guiltily as you pull up the list of twenty prompts on your phone. “You’re supposed to roll a die to find out what numbers you get. Roll a die, find a book for each of us that fits the prompt, and just keep going until we decide we have our arms full.” Digging into your purse, you come out with a d20 from when you play Dungeons and Dragons with your friends and hold it up. “Do you want to go first?”

“Ladies first.” Marcus grins and motions towards a bookshelf. “Roll there and we will see what we come up with.”

Normally a high roll would be a great thing to get, but as you stare at the 17 that pops up on the die, you skim down the list on your phone and feel yourself smirk. “Number seventeen. A book that inspired a tv show or movie.”

“Now is this for me to find for you?” Marcus asks seriously. “Or is this your criteria for my book?”

“I think we’re both supposed to pick a book for each other that fits the category.” The video hadn’t exactly been clear, but that is how you interpreted it. And it sounded like the most fun way to do it anyway.

“Okay. So we each find the other a book that inspired a tv show or movie.” He agrees. “I say I roll and then we separate. We don’t show the other the book until we are done picking them out.”

“Alright.” You hold up the d20 to offer it to him. “Roll away, G-man.”

Marcus plucks the die from your fingers and puts it in his palm to close his fist around him. Grinning as he blows on it playfully like he’s rolling dice in a casino. “Here we go.” He tells you before tossing it down.

It's playful and sweet, and you giggle softly when the die hits the shelf and comes up with the number 5. You consult your list, tilting your head with a grin when you read what category he ended up with. "Number five. A book with an overly long title."

He hums and nods. “Why don’t we add a little bit of a challenge?” He asks. You tilt your head curiously, obviously interested. “We have ten minutes per book, so twenty minutes total. When the twenty minutes is up, we meet at the tables to have a glass of wine and exchange books.”

"Deal." The element of a game makes you smile even more broadly, and you hold up your finger before he can jet away from you. "One more thing?" You ask and wait until he nods. "I want to know your least favourite book of all time. Just so I don't grab it by accident."

“Honestly?” He gives you a guilty grin. “I hate the Lord of the Flies.” He admits with a small shrug. “Hated when it was required reading.”

"You are in no way the first person I've ever met who hated that book," you promise him, smothering a little laugh in the process. "I did not like Gone With the Wind. Couldn't even force myself to be empathetic with any of the characters, which is a shame. The plot is interesting."

“The movie is better, at least it’s watchable.” Marcus admits. “I always hated the scene after the little girl died.”

"Alright." Pulling out your phone, you set a timer for twenty minutes and watch him follow suit with that mischievous smile painted back in place. "Ten minutes for each book, and then we meet right back here for wine and to trade titles."

“Good luck.” With a wink, Marcus whirls around and rushes off, already having a title or three in mind.

It becomes a sort of secondary game – any time you run into each other in the maze of shelves you immediately guard the books you are carrying with your entire bodies and back away or even sprint away from each other so that the surprises won't be spoiled. It has the two of you giggling like idiots and has definitely attracted the attention of some of the other patrons, but no one seems to really mind. Who could possibly mind people having fun in a bookstore?

When he finds what he wants, Marcus barely resists hiding it under his jacket as he rushes up to the counter to make his purchase. Wondering if you will call him out or be disappointed. So he has a backup plan in case. Taking his bag and looking around the bookstore as he walks towards the table you agreed to meet him at.

You use an entire eighteen minutes debating whether or not it's cheating to just grab two of your favourite books to see if he'll like them before you finally just do it. They do fit the categories and he did say that he likes romances so one of them is only sort of a stretch. Grabbing the two novels, you head to the register and then back to the table, only to see him already sitting there. "You were speedy," you observe, raising one eyebrow as you sit down across from him at the table.

“I know what I want.” Marcus tells you, biting back the grin that he wants to display and feeling giddy for his reveal. He motions towards the board that displays what wines they have available. “Do you want to get a glass before we exchange?”

"Sure." He's being cheeky and it's sexy as hell, so you nod and bite back a grin. "You're the wine guru, so I'll try whatever you say is good."

“I think something sweet.” He decides. “A nice Shiraz for us to share?” He asks, wanting to know if you want your own glass or to share again.

"A shiraz to share sounds perfect." Not that you know what the hell shiraz is besides the obvious conclusion that it's wine, but the sharing part is what sounds best to you.

“Okay.” He nods and shoots you a wary look. “No peeking while I order.” He orders playfully, pointing at you. “I’ll be watching.”

He steps up to the counter and you dutifully put your hands on top of the brown paper bag stamped with the shop's logo that you paid for, not peaking in the bag he bought despite desperately wanting to. He comes back in less than three minutes but you're already near squirming in your seat because the suspense is killing you.

“Okay. This is a glass of Layer Cake.” He tells you. “Sounds good, but it’s honestly a first for me too.” He was feeling adventurous and wanted a new experience with you. He’s had shiraz, but he wanted to try this at the same time you did.

"So it's a new adventure for both of us, then." That somehow makes it feel romantic and not just sweet, but it would be silly to say so. "You take the first sip, I insist."

He chuckles. “So I can make sure it’s not poisoned?” He teases. “As you wish, my princess.”

The 'princess' bit makes your cheeks burn, but you don't want to admit that you want to know whether or not he likes it first. There's something about trying wines that makes you nervous and you don't want to accidentally end up loving something that he thinks is subpar. Maybe that's trying wines that is intimidating you, or maybe it's just that you like him. You can't tell, honestly.

Picking up the glass, he sniffs and hums before taking a sip. “Oh this is good.” He groans. “That would be good anytime you wanted wine.”

"Well now I'm excited." He hands the glass over to you and you take a sip, immediately sighing. "Oh, that's fantastic. That would have made me a wine person ages ago."

“I’m selfishly glad that you are exploring it with me.” He admits, admiring how you savor the wine and take another small sip.

"Feel free to be selfish, then, because this is fantastic." Handing the glass back to him, you waggle your bag in his direction with excitement. "Number seventeen or number five first?"

“You want to go first?” He asks, not caring at all. “Sure. Why don’t you surprise me?”

"Your librarian date is excited about books. This should be no surprise." Laughing as you reach into the bag, the book on top is what you decide to go with and you pull out an old faithful favourite. "Number five. A book with an overly long title." You tell him, presenting him with a copy of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg.

Marcus bites his lip and takes the book. “Okay.” He nods. “That is a long title.” He’s a little worried that you won’t like what he had chosen now.

"You look nervous." He does take the book, though, not reject it. "Have you read it before? It's okay if you have...or if you didn't like it." You're not one of those people who believes that a couple has to like all the same things, after all.

“No, no, I haven’t read this one.” He promises. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about. Especially since you seem to love it.”

"I do." It would be kind of useless to claim otherwise, and you sit back in your chair to accept the glass of wine from him. "What did you find for number five?"

“So…” he flashes you a small grin. “I kind of…cheated.” He admits. “I chose a book that is both five and seventeen.” He admits. “But now, so have you so I’m completely thinking that I fucked up. But I’ve got a corny ass back up.” He rushes out to assure you.

"You say cheating, I say creativity." You do bite your lip though, before admitting, "I actually have two of my favourite books that worked for what we rolled...so this is kind of just my excuse to show them to you. Which is also cheating. Just a little."

At least you aren’t mad. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautiful hardback book. “My book for you is this. The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure.” He slides the book in front of you.

It probably isn't the reaction he expects to have you almost tear up at the table, but you gently place your hands on the book and draw it closer to you like it is something delicate and precious – which, to you, it is. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I mentioned wanting to be read to, does it?" You ask him with a grin. "Marcus it's perfect. And believe it or not...despite this being one of my favourite movies? I've never read the book."

“You haven’t?” His jaw drops and he shakes his head. “I don’t know which I like better, the movie or the book.” He admits. “I have my own copy at home.”

"I've read Cary Elwes' book, but somehow not the novel." The way he lights up at having made a good choice for you might be the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "I guess that's finally about to change."

“I did get another book but I decided it was a bit much after.” He admits, slightly flustered that he bought that book. But it has been made into a movie.

“What was the other one?” His ears have turned red and now you have to know, even nudging the wine glass back toward him in case he needs a little courage.

He blows out a breath and pulls out the other book from the bag. “Okay, but don’t judge me.” He begs, revealing the front of Fifty Shades of Grey.

“Why Marcus, is this a hint?” He has turned an even deeper shade of red and you can’t resist another giggle before batting your eyelashes at him.

“I— no, I don’t mean— it’s just that—” he sputters and chokes on his words before he heaves a sigh and drops his chin to his chest. “Fuck. I knew I should have just found something else.”

“You only should have grabbed something else if you didn’t mean to flirt with me,” you tell him honestly and pull your own book that inspired a tv show or movie out of your paper bag to hand him. The Duke & I by Julia Quinn now has images from the Bridgerton tv show splashed all over the cover, making it unmistakable. “You said you like romance novels sometimes,” you defend, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ve not read this.” He admits, reaching for the book to read the inside cover. “It sounds interesting. This is a show right?”

“Bridgerton.” You nod, wondering what - if anything - he’s heard about it. “Most people call it something like… ‘horny Jane Austen’.”

He snorts and chuckles to himself as he continues to read it. “Then I see why it appeals.” He jokes. “Nothing like love and sex.”

“Technically isn’t that what this is, too?” You ask, waggling the copy of 50 Shades at him. “Just… kinkier.” It’s an honest question, really. Since you’ve never read it.

“It’s – not bad but you can tell that whoever wrote this is just guessing at what they think BDSM is about.” Marcus tells you.

"So...do that mean you do know what BDSM is about?" It's an intriguing thought, to imagine this otherwise very clean-cut looking guy being into anything kinky, and you can't say you hate it. Not at all.

"I—" He never should have opened his mouth. He never should have opened his goddamn mouth. If it was possible to get any hotter, Marcus swears his face would just burst into flames. This isn't something that his mother would know because there is zero chance in hell he would ever tell her. "I was undercover." He explains. "The people I was— associating with, they were into that kind of scene." He bites his lip. "I had to do a lot of research on it, but I've never actually, you know, uh, practiced it." He assures you.

"Please don't think I'm judging," you reach over the table quickly to give his hand a squeeze and shake your head vehemently. "Honestly, if anything? I find it very...interesting. But have never practiced any of it, either."

"I just don't want you thinking that I'm—" He shrugs slightly. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. Normally I'm more confident than this, but not this time." He chuckles quietly.

"You don't want me to think you're kinky?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. "It's not a bad thing to be. But...I'm sorry if I did anything to shake that confidence." With a half-smirk, you shrug one shoulder in admission. "I promise you'd be extremely confident if you could hear the monologue in my head tonight."

"You didn't do anything, I promise." Marcus reaches out after you had pulled back and takes your hand again. "My last...relationship. She's the one that kind of screwed with my head." He confesses quietly. "But I want to know about this internal monologue of yours."

"The coworker." Of course his mother had told you about his ex-fiancée. She hadn't wanted you to feel like she was throwing you into an unknown situation. "From what your mom said...she sounds like she was a little...dishonest? And that's bullshit. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"It's done." There's nothing he can do to change it, and he's not sure that he would want to now that he's looking back on the situation. "But I'm hoping that I can get that confidence back."

"Well, if you hadn't said anything, I never would have known that this is the less confident version of you." His hand dwarfs yours, the warmth of it completely welcoming and overtaking all your senses. And it's so, so welcome.

"Is the book, alright?" He asks. "You can just read the first one if you want."

"Oh, no." The grin you aim his way is mischievous. "I'm definitely going to read both. Who knows? I might learn something."

"Have you seen the movies?" He asks curiously.

"No..." You can feel your cheeks heat up all over again. "It always seemed...I don't know, maybe I'm just really vanilla, but they always seemed so close to porn to me?" Not that that is a bad thing. And not that you don't watch your share of porn. Just usually not of the BDSM variety.

"It was actually pretty tastefully done." Marcus admits. "I've seen them. My ex wanted to see them, so..." He shrugs. "You go see them."

"See? You're already a font of information compared to me." His hand is still covering yours and you shiver a little at the innuendo of it all. Of how warm and tempting he is. "I guess I'll have to catch up. Educate myself."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you that you can watch the movies together, but that might be too forward. Instead, he grins. “Sounds like you have a research plan.”

"Apparently so." Under the table, the toe of your shoe finds the back of his leg completely by accident as you shift in your seat, and you grin guiltily. "I was about to apologize for that," you admit, knowing that it must have seemed like you were trying to play footsies or something under the table. "But honestly? I'm not sorry."

“Really?” His brow lifts and he shoots you a grin. “You like playing footsie?” He asks, his own foot reaching out and tapping yours gently.

"I think it's kind of cute, honestly." The innocent shrug is accompanied by a bright, smitten smile, and you nudge Marcus's foot back playfully.

“Best part of cuddling is sliding your foot along the leg of your cuddle buddy.” He tells you. “Or letting your hands wander.”

"Mmm...it's hands." And he has such huge hands...the possibilities are endless. "It's definitely hands."

“You’re a touch kind of girl?” He asks, intrigued by the idea and he wonders if your love language is physical touch. He’s noticed that you’ve reached out several times when reassuring him.

"Touch is a powerful thing." You reason, not making a single move to take your hand out of his. "It can be intense or gentle, reassuring or electrifying. It can be almost anything."

“Electrifyingly reassuring.” Marcus quips, squeezing your hand gently. He picks up the wine with his free hand and takes a sip.

"Like it's exciting but at the same time...feels kind of...right?" Which is exactly how you feel about him, and you're kind of going out on a limb admitting it but you don't think he's gearing up to reject you.

It does, he looks down at your joined hands and smiles. "I think so." He hands you the wine and hums. "Now, we have a couple of options for the rest of the night, if you're up for it." He grins. "We can continue to walk and talk. Or...." He shrugs. "I have my car back at the restaurant and I can drive you back to my place and we can have a cheese board and read to each other?"

He knows what he’s offering — not even in a salacious way — and that a night of reading books is like catnip to a librarian. You can’t help but get excited for it. Even the most boring night in the world would be improved by this, but tonight? With how it’s going? It sounds practically like foreplay. “What are we waiting for?” You ask, grinning, and take the last sip of wine from the glass. “We both have brand new books to read and my guess is that you definitetly have a couch big enough for two. I’d say that decision is easy.”

"Yeah?" He had expected you to say no. It's the first date after all. Beaming at you, he motions towards the wine. "Do you want to get a bottle of this to take with us?" He asks. "It would go good with any of the adult Lunchable things we can get."

“You’re going to keep teasing me about it, but I stand by that description.” You do nod though, having thoroughly enjoyed this particular glass of wine even more than what he had ordered at dinner.

He chuckles. "It's a good one." He admits. "I've never looked at it that way, but now I can see why you say that. I used to beg my mom to buy Lunchables."

“And now you love charcuterie. Which is the very same thing in a much neater package.” It’s silly, but you’ve always liked silly. It can really open a person up.

He squeezes your hand. "You finish that glass and I will see about getting us a bottle to take home." He tells you, letting go to stand up and quickly walk back to the counter. Feeling incredible about this date and almost hating that he had ever been dreading it.

Two sips and a purchased bottle later, the two of you are out the door of the little shop and heading back in the direction of the restaurant to retrieve Marcus’s car. The night is clear and crisp now and even though the city lights glow brighter than the stars you can sweat you feel the distinct light of the moon before anything else.

“How did you come to dinner?” He asks as he guides you towards his car. “If you feel more comfortable following me, I can give you the address.” He huffs. “Although I should probably do that anyway so you can send it to a girlfriend.”

“I have to admit, it’s comforting to have a guy even acknowledge that kind of thing.” Especially that he’s a federal agent, and doesn’t seem to feel entitled to your obedience or safety based purely on that fact. Instead he dutifully gives you his address after you tell him that you took public transportation to get here, and you send it off to your best friend.

“I understand.” He admits. “The number of people who disregard others safety or their own drives me insane sometimes. At the end of the day if someone gets offended for wanting to feel secure, they don’t have good intentions.” Marcus tells you. “Plus, my mother would kick my ass.”

“She definitely would.” You can agree to that, and thank him quietly when Marcus opens the passenger door for you to get into his car. The address he had given you was in Georgetown so you had a short but nice drive ahead.

“So what kind of music do you like?” He asks as he starts the car and looks behind him to back out of the spot. “Feel free to change it to whatever you like.”

“I would never change Pearl Jam.” Is the very serious reply he gets from you, as the alternative rock station he has programmed on his satellite radio is currently playing ‘Even Flow’. “There was a band that played in my college town that did all 90s rock covers and they were the absolute best shows to go to.”

“That had to be awesome.” Marcus hums. “I was too busy playing to really see a lot of shows and I regret it. But I loved being in the band.”

“Well then I guess we’ll have to find some live music to go see.” There seems like plenty of common ground that you can pick up on together and that is a very good sign if nothing else. “If the sound of a 90s influenced jam band doesn’t make you want to run for the hills, The Southern Ocean is playing at The Runaway this weekend.”

“I’ve never heard of them.” Marcus admits sheepishly. He’s been focused on work and not really out on the social scene the past few months. “Are they good?”

“I mean, I think so.” It’s not exactly surprising that the name is unknown to him and you glance over at him while he drives. “Their bassist is a friend, so I try to support whenever I can.”

“Then that’s definitely something I would want to check out.” Marcus nods. “It’s always good when you see friends play.”

“Would you want to come with me?” It’s only slightly presumptuous to plan out a second date when you’re still in the middle of the first one, but you like Marcus. You like him. He’s smart and handsome as hell and sweet, and even balances flirtation and respect on the perfect level. Honestly, you can’t imagine what kind of an idiot his exes were to let him get away.

“If you’re offering.” He smiles. “Who the hell ever resists an invitation from a pretty girl to go see a band?” He shakes his head. “I might be dumb, but I’m no fool.”

“You’re not dumb. Or a fool.” That’s exactly the kind of thing you don’t put up with from guys you date and you were glad to be able to rule it out very early with Marcus. You exchange a small smile at the next light when he pulls up to it and for the rest of the ride you sing along with the music and just enjoy yourselves.

When he pulls up to his house, Marcus is sort of panicking. Wondering if he had picked up this morning after he had dropped his clothes on the floor from his run. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he was a slob.

“Home sweet home?” You guess, looking up at the picturesque blue house with its literal white picket fence. It even has a gate out front that someone lovingly painted flowers on in lieu of adding a name.

“Yeah.” He chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It was a hell of a deal when I stumbled on it and I jumped.”

“It’s beautiful.” The lawn is dotted with wildflowers from what you can see in the dark, and suddenly the mental image of stargazing with him on a blanket is impossible to shake.

“Thank you. Luckily, I pay a wonderful company to keep the yard looking nice because I don’t have time to do it.” He admits with a small laugh.

“They do a much better job than the landlord at my duplex,” you offer him a smile before he slides out of the car and goes around to your door to let you out. The front door is a mere six steps away and Marcus’s house is even sweeter and more inviting once that door is open. It’s like somebody built the set of a Hallmark movie in real life just for this handsome FBI agent.

“So, this is home.” He knows that it’s decorated more than the standard bachelor pad and he’s okay with that. He’s not the type of man to just have a chair and a tv in the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I can put your coat in the closet if you want?”

“Thanks.” It’s the most intimate contact you’ve had tonight besides holding hands, and you swear you can feel your skin tingle when he slides your jacket off your shoulders for you before hanging it beside his in the closet. The little shiver that runs through you is a private thrill and you know you probably look dreamy as hell as you follow him past the living room to the kitchen.

“How about you arrange the cheese board while I open and pour the wine?” He asks as he opens the refrigerator to pull out the sliced cheeses and meats he keeps there because he likes them.

It sounds wonderfully domestic, and you agree to it easily as he pulls out a small board and sets it down on the counter. Packages of Gruyère, havarti, and something marked Seriously Sharp cheddar all fill out the board and you do your valiant best at attempting to fold and rolls the slices of cured meats into petite little roses for the two of you to enjoy demolishing together. Some fresh grapes and cherry preserves join the tray, and Marcus produces a half of a baguette seemingly out of nowhere once the wine is poured. It’s all deceptively easy, the way you seem to work with and around each other, and by the time you make it back out to the living room you know you’re just completely gone for this man. His little smiles, deep laugh, and soft demeanor have you utterly relaxed and so, so smitten.

“Do you want to put on some music?” Marcus asks. “Maybe we can just relax. Lean back and read to each other?” He’s leaning into the idea that you would like this and he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself.

“What do you want to read first?” It sounds like possibly the most romantic idea in the world – just sitting and reading to each other in comfort with an indulgent (and savory) dessert. If the thought of curling up with him and finding out what it feels like to be close to him is anything, it is fairly close to perfection.

“Ladies choice.” He hums quietly, moving over to the record player he has sitting next to the collection of vinyl’s. It’s not to look snooty, he’s been obsessed with them since his mother played them while cleaning, claiming it sounded better. For classical music, it does. It brings back a sense of nostalgia, sets a mood.

“Rachmaninov?” The melody sounds familiar, like something out of a dream, when it starts up and the name seems to drudge itself out of the depths of your memory. “That’s got fantasy and romance written all over it.”

He hadn’t chosen the music with that in mind, but he smiles. “Too much?” He asks, even though he doesn’t feel like you will think that.

“Not at all.” In fact, just the opposite. It feels just right. “But it feels like The Duke & I or Princess Bride for sure.”

“Okay.” He smiles as he moves over to the couch and toes off his loafers to reveal the dress socks he had been wearing underneath. “You can get comfortable.” He promises, taking off his sports jacket and removing his tie.

Getting Comfortable on a date for you would usually lead to sexier things than snacks and reading — but then, is there anything sexier than reading in the first place? For a librarian that seems impossible. So instead, you follow suit and toe off your boots to curl up in the couch beside him.

It seems almost natural to have you curl into the crook of his body and Marcus opens his arms slightly. “How about I read to you to start?” He asks softly.

For most people this might be a recipe for falling asleep, but tonight the sound of his voice is vibrating through the thin fabric of your dress as you lean against him. The lingering scene of his cologne mixed with the wine and new book smell in a way more intoxicating than alcohol ever could be. “You’re dangerously comfortable,” you warn him, drawn right against him like a magnet.

"I don't mind being called that." He laughs quietly, trying not to jostle you too badly as you snuggle against him and he settles into opening the new book. Hearing the spine creak open slightly and he wonders if you are like him and prefer hardback over paperback books. At least for gifts.

“All we need is a fire in the fireplace and we’re just about as picturesque as I can imagine.” It’s dangerous to turn your head to smile at him from this angle because it brings you within about two inches of his perfectly tantalizing lips, but you remind yourself to behave. This is just the first date. No need to rush.

“Not quite cold enough yet.” He can’t help but look down at your lips, imagining kissing you in front of a cozy fire after a night in. Or maybe coming home to relax after a night out.

“Soon.” The moment is so soft, and you watch his eyes drift down to your lips the same way yours did to his a second ago with a warm buzzing in your chest. Whether you mean the fire or the kiss should be soon is entirely up to him to decide.

“Should I start to read?” He asks quietly. Feeling the moment start to grow into something warmer, sweeter.

“Yeah—I—um…” Any hesitation on your part is strictly attraction based, and you move your head a safe distance from his lips so as not to get distracted. “Please.”

Marcus turns his eyes to focus on the book and not on you. “The birth of Simon Authur Henry Clyvedon Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvedon was met with great celebration.” He keeps his voice low, intimate between the two of you as he was reading you a story before bed.

It’s simultaneously the most relaxing thing in the world and causing you to be completely on edge, the way Marcus’s rich voice seems to roll right through you as he begins to read. Every place that the two of you are touching seems to be on fire and you cannot decide if you want to jump him or take the world’s most luxurious ride on his narration alone.

He feels you stiffen in his arms and he wonders if you’ve change your mind. “Everything okay?” He asks, wanting to check in with you. He had anticipated you melting against him, but you seem on edge and if it’s something he’s doing, he wants to fix it.

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with how relaxed you feel right now, but you know you’ve been a little tensed against him. You had just been hoping that he wouldn’t notice. The fact that he looks at you incredulously says he definitely did. “I’m—” Flustering, you clear your throat as gently as you can manage and bite back a smile. “I’m a little distracted,” you admit, wondering how well complete honesty will go over with him.

“Cold?” Marcus asks. “There’s a blanket right over your other shoulder.” He hums. “Snuggle against me and curl under it. I meant it, make yourself comfortable.” He’s not sure if it’s the change from having your jacket and boots on that’s distracting you, but he doesn’t mind the idea of being under a blanket together.

Not entirely sure that snuggling more would distract you less,” you pull the blanket down anyway and do as he suggests. It brings the two of you even closer and you have to tamp down the coil tightening even further in your gut. Keep your shit together. You’re a grown ass woman! “There.” You smile, but looking up at him brings your eyes to his lips again and you don’t even realize as your tongue darts out to wet your own lips at the sight. “All better.”

His eyes drop down to your lips and he all but groans at the sight of them wet. “Good.” He croaks out, clearing his throat. “That’s good.” It’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, but he needs to so he doesn’t overstep.

“Mmhmm.” Nodding is like a reflex, and for all your determination you just can’t look away. “Very good…”

There’s a moment where Marcus wants to put the book down and give into the desire to kiss you. But that wouldn’t be what you had planned when you came over here and if something happens, he’s determined to let you lead. “So, uh, where was I?”

“I think—” But the thought isn’t there. You have no idea what the last thing he read was, despite how much you love the sound of his voice. Every sense has been taken over by the buzzing hum running through your body and the spark of his skin touching yours. “I don’t—” You could bluster. Or try to skim the page and guess. But your impulses are a hell of a lot stronger than your good sense tonight. “—I really want to kiss you—”

Marcus groans quietly and the book snaps shut with a definitive thump. “I really want you to kiss me too.” He admits. “You should go with your instincts.”

“Instincts are important,” you nod as wisely and seriously as possible even as you’re turning into his side. Those warm puffs of breath that have been ghosting over your skin make you shiver, and you just have an unshakable feeling that this is that start of something completely wonderful. “Oh yeah?” You hum, close enough to nudge his nose with yours.

“Yeah.” Marcus exhales roughly, feeling like he is about to vibrate out of his skin. Despite his complaint to his mom that it was too soon since Teresa, he feels that this is nearly perfect. You’re perfect and he’s painfully attracted to you.

It only takes the smallest movement to fit your lips against his, but the response that floods your body is monumental. It really should only have been a quick, light, gentle kind of first kiss — but he did say to go with your instincts. So instead your hand comes up to graze the line of his jaw when the blissful feeling of having him kiss you back makes you feel like you might vibrate out of place right there on the couch.

It’s innocent, really. The kiss doesn’t go much deeper than the exploration of each other in that first pressing of lips and yet he feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest. The only reason you pull back is to check in with him. It really is. Because that simple little first kiss might be the best first kiss you’ve ever had. His smile is a little dreamy, almost goofy as his eyes flutter opened after closing on their own. Looking at you as if you had hung the moon after that kiss.

"You look how I feel," you tell him, grin splitting your face clean across as you tuck tightly into his side. That pure joy radiating from his smile is the same feeling filling up your chest right now.

“Like you could tap dance on air?” He asks with an answering grin of his own. Wanting to pull you close and kiss you again, but resisting.

"Maybe." Neither of you were expecting the giggle you share, but it makes you both smile that much harder and you shift slightly against him. "And...like I didn't want to stop..."

“That too.” The book falls to the floor as he shifts slightly. His eyes are darker now, the lust and desire making his amber eyes turn to onyx. “You don’t have to.”

The momentum sweeps both of you up in a way you didn’t expect at all. As soon as he agrees to wanting even a little more you feel like the whole world tilts on its axis. You shift in his arms to surge toward him, lips pressing against his in earnest and barely managing to swallow a moan when he pulls you in tighter. It has you throwing caution to the wind and taking advantage of the open-mouthed kiss to taste him with your tongue — and letting a second moan out when he tastes just as sweet as you thought.

His arms wrap around you, not wanting you to shift too far away as he drowns in the kiss. Letting the feeling of your tongue caressing his completely overrule any semblance of thought beyond you and making sure you are aware of how much he is enjoying kissing you.

Trying to get as close to each other as you possibly can, you turn one more time in his arms and shift forward without ever breaking the kiss. His arms hold you steady, following wherever you’re going next, and in a moment of impulsivity and bravery you swing one leg over his lap to straddle Marcus completely on the couch.

Groaning, he absorbs your weight easily and his hands slide down your sides to squeeze your hips. He’s not upset you’re in his lap, quite the opposite. It makes his kiss just a little more frantic, trying to devour you a bit more.

Marcus has big hands. You know that already. But feeling them on you is totally different. His grip is firm but gentle, sweeping up and down your sides, and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you chose a dress and leggings and that those things provide no barrier between his body and yours. You can feel damn near everything underneath you and that is a blessing as well making you hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of him in waves.

He pants against your lips and feels like he’s underwater. Knowing that he is starting to harden underneath you at the warmth of your body, your core pressed against him.

The only thing that could possibly reel you back in at this point is him — the very same thing that is driving you crazy. But before you start grinding against him or even so much unconsciously moving your hips, you need to make sure he’s okay with it. You’re both panting heavily when you press your forehead against his, and your hands grip his shoulders tightly for balance. “I can stop…” you promise him, knowing that reeling yourself in now will be easier than later. “If you don’t want—more—”

“No.” The word is more whimper and plea than command and he wouldn’t do that anyway. “I— I’m good. I want—” He shakes his head and leans in to press his lips to yours again.

He wants just like you do, if the growing bulge beneath you is any indication, and you are not the slightest bit upset about that in anyway. It isn't what you came here for – or why you went on this date in the first place – but fuck if it isn't feeling like the perfect way to cap off the night.

The subtle circling of your hips has his fingers digging into your thighs as the most delicious groan rips out of his throat. Unsure if he wants you to stop or to just grind on him until you’re panting his name, he slides his tongue down your jaw and to your neck to follow it up with tiny kisses.

"Fuck— Marcus." The iron grip you had on his shoulders has slacked only so you can run your hands down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer under your fingertips just as fast as your own as he dusts kisses along your neck and raises goosebumps in his wake.

“So sexy.” He murmurs into your skin. Scraping his teeth over your pulse and sucking lightly. Enjoying the tremor that runs through you and the way you press down against his cock as you moan. He’s hard and starting to ache now, twitching every time you move.

“Unbelievably hot.” The first time you deliberately tilt your hips and rock your core over him, you both moan and you melt against him with your fingers fumbling for his buttons. “C—can I?” You manage, even though you feel like your voice is shaking. “Want to touch you, baby. Please?”

Exhaling on a shudder, Marcus gulps in air greedily. "Whatever you want." He croaks out. "I— fuck," His eyes close and his head tilts back slightly, exposing his Adam's apple. "I want you, but this stops wherever you want it to." He's not the type of man to push beyond your comfort, but if you said you wanted him inside you, he'd already be asking about protection. Not feeling like this is some sort of rebound, it feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

“I don’t want it to stop,” you admit, pausing with your fingers already in the first button of his shirt to find his eyes. This is not your usual first date M.O. but there is something here. Something very real and new between you that has wrapped itself around both of you together.

“We don’t have to stop.” Marcus promises you breathlessly, biting back a groan of pleasure when your hand splays across his chest, touching his hot skin.

"Thank god." Your own moan is a soft and breathy thing as you lean back to watch the broad expanse of his chest come into view with every button you manage to wrench open.

He manages to chuckle, even though he wants to just pull you closer and rip your clothes open to touch you, but he just pulls you close.

It's so damn easy to sink into him. For both of you to let your hands wander and your kisses migrate across each other's skin. He's stronger even than he looks at first glance and that is very strong – to the point where you really wonder if he might be able to just lift you up and carry you off. And that is just about the sexiest thing you can think of.

Keeping his hands on top of your clothes is going to be a real fucking challenge. Especially now that you have stripped him of his dress shirt and his undershirt. Squeezing and caressing every inch of skin you are baring, even the back of your tender neck while he scatters kisses along your lips.

The way he grabs and bunches your dress in his hands but doesn't reach further makes you groan, wondering if he's hesitant or if he's just waiting for permission. It really only takes a few seconds to realize there is something hesitant about the way he is kissing you or palming your hips and breasts over your dress, so you take one of his hands and guide it under the hem of your dress in invitation.

Marcus moans when you guide his hand under your dress, giving him permission to touch you and it becomes his mission to touch every inch of your body. Both hands slide up and down your thighs in sweeping passes, over your panties and to your stomach.

"Fuck." His hands are burning hot, making you shiver counterintuitively and lean into every touch. At this rate you may leave a damp patch from grinding down on him, but you don't even care. The friction is too good to ease up on. The only way you're moving off is so Marcus can get his pants off.

"That's right, baby." He agrees, unable to stop twitching every time you grind against the hard bulge in his slacks. "Fuck is right." His thumb sweeps under your breast right before he slides up to cover it with his hand, right over the bra and squeeze possessively. "You want to take off your dress for me, sweetheart?"

It's not even worth wasting breath on a reply, you just tear your hands away from his chest to pull your dress up over your head. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor and instantly forgotten about as you pant for your breath back and watch Marcus's eyes drink you in.

He didn't know that he could look so many places at once. Your tits, mouthwatering and begging for his attention. Down to your pretty panties that he wants to rip off and bury his tongue inside you to hear you squeal his name. Back up to your face and he nearly growls as he rushes in to kiss you again.

The momentum nearly knocks you backward but Marcus's arms are there to hold you steady. If he has his way you'll be staying skin-to-skin for a whole lot longer tonight and you have absolutely no problem with that. Every time his cock twitches under you, you can't help but moan, and soon it's going to be just a litany of that sound over and over.

Deft, sure hands reach back to undo your bra, making the first move to strip clothing off of you. Pulling the straps down your arms and immediately reaching up to cup your breasts and fill his hands with them. As simple as it might be to get a simple piece of clothing off of you, your high-pitched whine says everything about how eager you are to be rid of every stitch. "You have the best hands," you moan when he pinches your nipples and rolls the tight buds between his fingers for the first time.

"You have the best tits." Marcus hums, almost chuckling as he watches your head drop down to your chest and then roll back. "Fuck, that's it," he groans when you circle your hips on his cock again.

"S—swear this isn't what I was expecting—" You manage to breathe out, trying to assure him that you never expected sex tonight. "But fuck, baby."

"Me either." He agrees, kissing your jaw and then down your chest. His hot mouth moving towards your breast until he's pulling your nipple into his mouth.

“Mar—Marcus.” The heat of his mouth makes you keen even as your head drops back and the fingers of one hand tangle in his short hair. At this point every time you grind your hips down it’s like you’re trying to reach his cock inside his pants, and you know he’s as hard as you are wet.

He huffs and blows his breath against your nipple as he lets go of it, smirking up at you before sucking it back into his mouth. Knowing that tonight is nowhere near what he had imagined it being like and yet he can't be mad at it. He's eager to feel more of you.

“Feels so damn good.” The contrast of hot and cool on your skin makes your eyelids flutter and you rock in his lap.

He moans in agreement, his tongue flicking over the stiff peak and he loves how it puffs up even more in his mouth. Pulling off only to attack your other breast with equal enthusiasm.

Every flick of his tongue sends another shiver down your spine and as much as you just want to ride it out and see if you can cum only from having your tits sucked on, you want him more. One hand stays threaded in his hair but the other reaches down between you, finding the thick bulge of his cock in his pants and squeezing experimentally to see what makes him moan.

Marcus’s breath is ragged, shuddered against your skin and he pulls away because he might bite down too hard if you do that too well. “Fuck, baby.” He groans when you squeeze him again.

"I—" You breathe, panting when he twitches in your hand and you can feel how thick he is. "I have a condom in my wallet." It had been just a nothing idea, to throw one in while you were getting ready. More of a joke to yourself about how you always seem to be so overprepared. But now? Thank god you did.

"Yeah?" He kisses up your neck again and his tongue slides against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. "I have one too." He admits. He's always carried one, but not because he expected sex, but because it was surprisingly handy to have at times. "Do you want to use yours or mine?"

"Yours first, mine second." It might sound a little overconfident, but something in you tells you for certain that this isn't just a one-time thing. Besides that, Marcus's hazy, lust-filled grin at your comment is worthwhile.

"Good girl." He groans out, twitching against your core at the thought of multiple rounds after you've both caught your breath and recovered.

That makes you moan reflexively, and you don't even pretend to demure over the reaction. It's honest and it's real. Who doesn't want to be praised during sex?

"Oh you like that." He chuckles and leans in to kiss your lips again softly. "I'll keep that in mind." He will, he will take note of every damn think you like.

"Not even going to pretend I don't." You lean forward to nip at his neck in turn before stepping back from him with a groan. With two feet on the rug, you already hate the distance between you. But you'll take care of that as soon as you strip his pants away.

Marcus pouts slightly but he quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants so he can lift his hips up so you can pull his pants down. Black boxer-briefs under black trousers is very adult of him, and you're far too focused on the thick length trapped under that last layer of fabric to tease him about boring underwear. Instead you toss him his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and slip off your tights while he fishes for the condom packet.

Catching his wallet, Marcus opens it and pulls the condom out and tosses it on the coffee table before he bites his lip. Looking at you before he lifts his hips again and pushes down his boxer briefs.

Broad shoulders and a thin waist give way to long legs, but your attention is focused on his dark eyes until you let your gaze drop to his lap. The head of his cock is bordering purple, dripping precum, and it gives a distinct twitch against his belly when he watches you watch him. The perfect moment of quiet before the storm that is about to take over, you crack a grin at Marcus and take a step forward. That cock is going to feel so fucking good inside you.

"I take it you approve?" He asks, smirking himself as he holds out his hand to you. "Now, I want you to take off your panties for me, sweetheart."

“Oh, these things?” With your thumbs hooked into either side of your panties, you grin a little wider before slipping them straight down your legs to pool at your feet. “Gone.”

"Fuck." He groans, cock jerking again at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. "You're so beautiful. I'm lucky to be able to touch you."

You hum, shaking your head and making a show of walking the three steps you need to need to be ready to crawl back into his lap. “I could say the same thing.”

He chuckles and rips open the condom to roll down his length. Biting his lip while he studiously applies the prophylactic, he looks back up at you with his hand wrapped around his covered cock. "Then touch me again and make me believe it." He teases.

Never having known a single man who didn’t like having his cock ridden, you fit one knee on the outside of each of his hips and sit yourself down directly over his core, replacing his hand with yours and wishing you had had the opportunity to suck his cock just a little before he applied the condom. Next time, you tell yourself, rocking over the tip of his length and watching his Adam’s Apple bob dramatically until you start to slide that length inside you an inch at a time.

His hands find your hips again. Not to rush you, but to hold you as you slowly start to engulf his cock. Moaning out your name when you get the first two inches inside your hot body and your walls squeeze him tight. "That— fuck, baby, you feel so good." He praises breathlessly. "How— is it good?" He can barely think straight, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable.

“Perfect.” Barely holding onto your last shred of control, you are determined to make sure you both latch on to the bliss of this moment before anything else. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders but the slight pain just adds to how good the way you sink down onto him feels. Groaning again as you keep taking him, wrapping him up in the heat of your body. "Good."

“Goddamn.” When he’s fully seated inside you, you pause long enough for both of you to catch your breath. “Tell me when I can move, baby.”

"Anytime you want to move." He moans, wanting you to move now, but he's not the one who is on top. "You set the pace, baby."

That in itself is enough encouragement, and you raise up on your knees right away to the musical harmony of a moan ripping out of each of you. “Fuck you feel so good,” you moan, barely keeping your eyes open as you set an even but energetic pace. It feels that good, but you want to be able to watch him.

Breathing out shakily, Marcus can't even speak. Too overcome by the pure pleasure that comes when you start to move. Rolling your hips and clenching down around him, you fit like you are perfectly molded around him. Eyes fluttering when you start to lift off his length, but then take him even deeper when you sink back down.

The sounds of sex are distinct – sloppy and wet and loud – as the two of you find a rhythm together. If you believed in Fate you’d say he felt like he was made for you, but as it is you really can barely form any thoughts at all. He fills you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever felt before and every perfect man goes straight to your clit as you ride him.

His fingers are still grazing your hip as his thumb presses against that little button that drives women crazy. Humming when he starts to work quick, small circles on top of it as you move. Wanting to match the rhythm for your pleasure. Your hands are everywhere, pulling in his hair and bracing on his shoulders, grazing down his chest and even reaching behind you to lean backward and get a slightly different angle and groaning loudly when it strikes you just right.

Letting you lead doesn’t mean that Marcus does nothing. His hips rock up every other thrust to make sure that you are impaled on his cock. Toes curling every time, he groans out your name again and again.

Curses and praises fall from your lips, punctuating the litany of moans with colorful encouragement and pleas. Every time he thrusts upward you feel like you’re going to have all of your insides rearranged, and it’s so fucking good you never want it to stop.

“Fuck. Baby.” Marcus leans forward and presses his forehead to your clavicle. “You’re taking me so well. Love it.” His mouth sometimes gets filthy when he’s lost in a moment and it’s no different today. “Pretty little pussy clamped down over my dick.”

Fucking hell. He even talks dirty. You keen in response, a moan so animated and turned the fuck on that you’re picking up the pace and pawing at your own tits in Marcus’s face. It’s beautiful to watch your tits bounce and your hands pluck at them, but he’s a hands on kind of guy and he lets go of your waist so he can lavish attention on them.

It’s an automatic switch. When his hands move to knead your tits and pluck at your nipples, you replace one of your own on his shoulder and let the other drift to your clit to run the same circles that he was just a second ago. You’re hurtling desperately close to cumming and you can’t wait to hear what dirty little praises he’s going to come out with when you clamp down on his cock even harder.

Marcus moans and groans with his nipple in your mouth. His eyes watching your fingers dance over your clit and he’s memorizing the fact that you enjoyed the way he had been touching you. His hips rocking up fast to punch up into you. Feeling you getting closer to your peak with ever gasped squeal you give him.

“So—fuck— so fucking close,” you manage between pants and moans as your body starts to lock down all at once and that coil in the base of your spine tightens beautifully like you were warning it and not just him. “Oh fuck, I’m cum—”

The second he feels you tense up, Marcus pops off your tit and his arms wind around you like steel bands. Holding you in place so he can take over. Thrusting up into you while you start to cum. “That’s it.” He hisses. “Cum for me. Soak me baby. Show me how good my cock feels.” He groans, the hard, sharp thrusts knocking his breath out but he fucks you through it, still babbling. “Like a vice, like a fucking vice. Come on baby, give me all of it.”

The filthy babbling almost breaks you, with the way that it shakes through you and makes you gasp at breaths even with how much you’re panting. Sparks flash white behind your eyes as Marcus’s hips start to stutter, and you’re vaguely aware of a stream of your own encouragements — or maybe just begging him to cum so you can see how gorgeously unwound he looks when he hits his peak. You can’t be sure which it is, or if it’s both, but either way his arms tighten around you that much more and he groans in your ear like sin incarnate.

"Fuck you're so good." Marcus breathes. "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill your little pussy up." That's not going to happen because of the condom, but logistics don't exactly matter right this second. All that matters is that he's going to be buried inside you as he cums. "Fuck baby, fuck." He chokes out, giving one more thrust and grinding up into you as he whines your name into your ear. Spilling into the condom in hot waves of pleasure.

“Holy shit.” You’re the first to break into giggles, when you finally have your breath back. His arms were so tight around you at the end that you might feel a little bruised tomorrow but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all. That’s the best ride you’ve had in ages and it was only the first time.

Humming, Marcus leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck. Panting to catch his breath. "Holy shit is right." He gives his own little giggle because he's feeling so loose and good.

“Let me know when I’m getting too heavy.” With your forehead pressed to his shoulder and the feeling very slowly returning to your extremities, you’re still not sure about moving immediately. “My legs aren’t working yet. You turned them into jelly.”

"You can stay right here as long as you want." He promises with a grin, his spent cock twitching inside you. He will have to hold to condom when he pulls out, but it's worth it. "Want me to read to you now while you recover?"

The awe and adoration in your expression when you pull back from him is unmistakable. He’s going to read to you post-coitus?! “You’re actually perfect,” you sputter out in disbelief, though you’re absolutely not saying no.

He chuckles and sends you a warm smile. "It's the least I can do," he teases, "since you did all the work." His hands slowly caress your spine and he’s enjoying the way you feel against him.

“And I’ll gladly do all the work again for round two if that’s the response I get.” Not even teasing, you nudge your nose against his and steal a kiss, savoring the taste of perspiration mixed with Marcus’s kiss.

He hums against your lips and slides his hand up to hold you in place to deepen the kiss. "Thank you." He murmurs when he pulls away. "For this. For making it easy to enjoy the best damn date I've had in a long time."

“No need to thank me.” There is so much softness in it that you melt a little bit more, nuzzling into him right there in his lap. “I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to make sure our second date beats it.”

It makes him laugh, a giddy, carefree sound and he sigh happily. "We should just keep it going then." He decides. "That way we don't have to think of ideas to top this."

You could float away on the sound of his laugh, just reveling in this joyful energy. All the same, you pull back again and find his eyes carefully. “You asking me to stay the night, handsome?”

"What kind of date would I be if I sent you home when your legs are Jello?" He asks playfully, leaning in and nudging your nose with his. "Especially since it's my fault."

“Fault. Generous gift. Same thing.” You both grin, indulging in more kisses until you’re sighing into him all over again. “In that case, I think we should go upstairs,” you murmur. “Read in bed until we either want to go again or fall asleep.”

"Do you want some water?" He asks softly, knowing you might be thirsty after all that work. "I can get you some before we go up?"

“Perfect gentleman.” You hum softly, knowing you need to climb out of his lap but wanting one more kiss first. “Water would be amazing.”

He gives you another lingering kiss, smiling against your lips when you start to pout as you lift off of him. He slides his hand between you to hold the base of his cock, keeping the condom from moving. "Good. My room is the last door on the left." He tells you. "I'll be up in just a second, as soon as I get rid of the condom and get some water."

"Okay." Even though you pause to gather up your stuff, you don't bother getting dressed. Sauntering upstairs naked has an air of comfort and unexpected sexiness to it that you can't deny, but you do stop off in the bathroom to do the extremely unsexy task of cleaning up and having a quick pee. By the time you get out, you barely have a second to slip under the covers before Marcus appears in the doorway.

"Bottle of water, like the lady ordered." Marcus put away the cheeseboard and wine, gathering up his own clothes before coming upstairs. He wants to make sure you are comfortable. Grinning, he walks over in his boxers to hand you the water. "Need anything else, sweetheart?"

"A little company, that's all." Did he manage to get more attractive in the less than five minutes you were apart? That's wholly unfair.

"Company I can definitely provide." He smirks slightly as he walks around the bed to climb in beside you. "Comfortable? Need another pillow?"

"Not gonna lie." As he slides in next to you, you move toward him like a magnet. "I was kind of hoping for a human pillow."

"That's my favorite type of pillow to be." His arms open up to let you settle against him. "Especially when I'm going to read to you."

"Absolutely perfect," you murmur happily, laying your head down on his chest as he picks up the book. Tonight really was, without a doubt, the best date you've ever had. You're going to have to do a hell of a job hosting the next book club meeting as a thank you.

He picks up reading again, basically just starting over. Keeping his voice low and the only light is from the lamp on his bedside table. Letting the atmosphere stay intimate. It might be the first date, but it was going to hopefully the last first date he has.

______

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artists-ally · 7 months

Note

I think Harvey would be thw type of person who makes love specially when he’s feeling sad. Like he needs comfort and to be as close to his s/o as possible, fingers intertwined and all that nice shit. How do you think reader would comfort him after he had a discussion with someone of his family?

{Oh, My Human Heart} Harvey Specter x Reader

So my mind went to [SEASON 8 EPISODE 5 SPOILER WARNING] where Harvey went up to Boston to defend his brother against his wife's divorce. That shit crushed my soul man, so this is based on that! Enjoy!! Title is a lyric from this song.

Word Count: 3,191

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, smut, Season 8 Episode 5 Spoilers

Summary: When Harvey returned home from visiting his brother unexpectedly, there is an obvious weight to his shoulders as he slumps inside. And it’s your mission to find out what it is and wipe it from his memory.

Tagging: @kjbg-fantasymoon (your request is next babes <3)

~~~~~~~

The door slammed. Hard. Concerningly hard.

“Harvey?” You shouted out into the kitchen, taking off the towel from your shoulder and set it on the counter. No one responded. Worry coursed through you, and you grabbed the knife from the cutting board. Just in case.

Your husband rounded the corner and you jumped, but let the fear drain from your held breath and set the knife down. “Jesus Harvy, you could’ve… hey, what are you doing back here?”

Harvey looked indecipherably pissed. He had hard creases in his face and his lips pressed in that flat line that meant someone was about to see that side of him that meant he was gonna raise hell. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he let his hands fall to his sides.

“Okay, okay come sit, love,” You reached for him and guided him to the island. “Do you want to talk about it? A distraction? To be left the hell alone?”

That communication strategy had worked wonders when Harvey came home from a lethal case. All the details you knew about this one involved his brother and a divorce from his wife. It had already shattered Harvey’s heart to hear they were splitting up, but this was… this was rage. Raw fury.

“I am going to open my mouth and let the floodgates go with it, and I just need you to try and make sense of it. Because for reasons only known by Jesus-fucking-Christ himself can this be possible.”

You just nodded, letting Harvey take some deep breaths. You noticed his hands were shaking. He was shaking. What the fuck happened in Boston?

“Marcus called me up there to represent him for his divorce,” Harvey started, thumbs in his eyes. “He told me that it was because she had an affair. I was ready to go kick down her door and take their kids away myself. Turns out, he lied to me. She was divorcing him because he started gambling again and he told Haley not to tell Katie.”

Your blood ran cold, all remorse leaving your body for Marcus. How could he fucking do that?

“So, tell me this Yn. Why would my own god damn brother, who I spent my money on to build him a dream restaurant, lie to my fucking face? Not once. Not twice. Four times. Four opportunities he had to tell me and he waited till the last fucking second. I-I can’t even begin to describe how sick it makes me feel to have Haley be put in that position.”

“It is wildly unfair for her, and for their son,” you felt awful for them. They were the sweetest kids and didn’t deserve to have that weight on their shoulders.

“I mean, was he not apart of the fucking family when mom did that to me? Did he suddenly just show up on our doorstep one night looking for a place to sleep like a stray cat? No, he didn’t. He’s my fucking brother. He was there when mom did it to me. And he saw what it did to our family. What it did to me. He was the one trying to fix our fucking fucked up family. To piece it together after the fall out and he expects me to do the same when he did the one thing worse than practically fucking cheating on her.”

“Harvey I think that's a little-”

“Now he’s destroying his own life. No, not even destroying, destroyed. He has ruined all chances of working things out between him and Katie and honestly, I can’t be fucking bothered to watch it crumble to the ground. And the worst part of it is he had the audacity to ask me to win this case. He doesn’t deserve to win let alone ask me. What a selfish, lying son of a bitch-”

“Harvey,” you placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from walking away. He had been moving around animatedly, now up out of his seat and waving around. “Take a deep breath. Please.”

He did.

“Good,” You smiled softly.

He took another. And another. “Sorry… just- sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You came and stood in front of him, hands flat on his chest. “Let’s go and get you changed and we can keep talking through it. If you’d like.”

Though Harvey’s eyes were harsh, that anger wasn’t directed at you. You’ve dealt with him like this on more than one occasion, and you’ve learned to recognize the difference. He didn’t dare look at you the way he is now.

After taking his hand and leading him up stairs, you took your time undressing him so he could be more comfortable. Once upon a time he had told you that the feeling of your hands on him could make him forget anything and everything. It was only in your best interest to do that for him now. To calm him so he could see the full picture.

Starting with his tie, you walked to the closet and hung it up in the empty space from where you picked it out this morning. Much the same with the jacket, tossing his still crisp white-shirt in the laundry. He handed you his belt and shoes, and while you put them away, he took off his dress pants and put on sweats by the time you came back.

“Better?” You asked, placing his hands across your middle.

He smiled, “Better.”

Harvey was still sitting, but he rested his forehead against your stomach, just breathing. With calm hands you massaged his scalp and neck, his shoulders and arms. It was important to give Harvey his space at times like this, letting him speak when he wanted. Otherwise he’d just get defensive and shut down. That was not beneficial to either of you.

“I’m so fucking mad at Marcus, Yn.”

“I know, my love. I know,” You spoke softly, kissing the top of his head. “So am I.”

“I just don’t understand how he could do that after what mom did to me. I thought- I thought we were brothers again.”

His voice cracked, and you could feel the first tear drops soak through your shirt and cool your skin. Your stomach clenched and dropped. You know Harvey and Marcus have been rocky for decades, but since he forgave his mom and started rebuilding their relationship, things naturally got better with Marcus.

So much for all that hard work. And you had been so proud of him for taking those steps. And you knew the toll it took on him. Now it was all back at square one.

“I am so sorry, Harvey.”

“What the fuck do I do?”

You paused for a long while. “I don’t know.”

When he looked up at you, eyes all red and bleary, you wanted to fly to Boston and smack Marcus yourself for putting Harvey right back where he was when he was sixteen. He may not have been the one asked to keep a secret this time, but he knows what it’s like to be in that situation. To feel so pinned and powerless. The looming decision of whether he should betray his mom or dad, a constant threat, and either outcome will ruin the family.

“Are you up for listening to my ideas or do you still need to get things off your chest?” All you got was a shrug and a few spilled tears. “Okay, there’s no rush.”

“I just don’t know what to do, Yn. I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do. I want to beat him into the dirt the most. I want to hold Haley and tell her that none of this was ever her fault and she is not the one to blame. Goddamn do I want to hug Haley right now…”

You had to close your eyes. You didn’t want to see Harvey in this position, especially because you knew what this did to him. It stirred up all those memories and emotions from decades ago. Now they were all at the surface, controlling every one of his thoughts. And there isn’t a whole lot that you can do to get them to stop.

“I think you’re angry.”

“You’re goddamn right I’m angry,” Harvey huffed, making you let out a weak chuckle.

“And I also think that I know you when you’re angry. And that you don’t think clearly when you are. So, how about we distract you for a while and then we get some sleep. Then, maybe in the morning, we lay it all out again and go over what we know. Look at all the facts and whatnot. Because, despite your very much warranted anger towards Marcus, he is still your brother. And family means more than anything to you, Harvey. I can’t let you spend the next thirty years in regret for not trying. You owe that to yourself. Not anyone else.”

“I don’t even know where to start with all this bullshit.”

“That’s where I come in,” You smiled, sitting in his lap with one leg on each side of his. “Look Harvey, you have every single right to be upset. I am pissed at Marcus for doing that to Haley. But I will not let this drive another cavern between you and him. The two of you have been through enough. He fucked up, and he knows it because you’re Harvey goddamn Specter and you told him he did. But you forgave him once. And you forgave your mom. It is worth a shot to hear him out, and I’m not saying it has to be right away either. Just eventually.”

Harvey’s brown eyes darted around your face, that tight line still on his lips. When you tilted your head and batted your lashes, he sighed out, nodding. “Okay, okay fine you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” your smile made him finally unclench the space between his brows. “It’s because I’m really good at knowing who you are, and knowing how to approach a situation. You’re good at being a kick-ass lawyer and I’m good at taming that kick-ass lawyer.” “You love it when I let that animal out of the cage,” he smirked, hands stroking down your thighs.

“If you refer to yourself as an animal in a cage again I will walk out that door and spend the night at Donna’s.”

“Okay okay,” he grinned ear to ear, pressing kisses on your cheek, then down your neck. “I’m sorry for being so… hostile. Thank you, Yn. For calming me down.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“I don’t know what it is that you do, but you make it all disappear.”

“It’s my secret,” you whispered, kissing his lips. “And I won’t ever tell.”

“I bet I could make you tell me,” Harvey winked and grabbed around your waist, taking you with him when he leaned back.

“Oh, is that a fact?” “No, but it is a challenge.”

He tangled his hand in your hair, bringing your mouth to his. He tasted like whatever cheap whiskey he had on the plane and mint. You let your body form to his and didn’t mind the way his tongue found yours. Harvey’s hands were gentle as they peeled away the cardigan on your shoulders, tossing it away to be picked up later.

He took his time, slowly stripping you and easing you on your back. You wrapped your legs around his waist and needed to have his mouth on yours again. He was such a good kisser. So thorough and precise with what he wanted to do to you.

And he was always very thorough.

Harvey placed kisses down your chest, down your stomach and to each hip.

“Babe-”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Just let me do what I want. You just lay back and look pretty. Fuck do you look pretty, my love.”

Your heart melted. Normally he had a wicked, dirty tongue but tonight was obviously different. He wanted something to focus on, and if that was going to be you, then so be it. You surely weren’t going to stop him from spreading your knees and tucking his head to your core.

If Harvey could do one thing for the rest of his life, he’d sure have a hard time picking between you and the law. While he loved his work, your mind and body were two things even the high of winning couldn’t compare to. Harvey loved you. Ferociously. With every part of his body he loved you.

His tongue circled your clit, and your hand went in his hair to keep him there. The laugh that tumbled from him was nothing short of star-seeing. One thing about Harvey is if you weren’t satisfied and thensome, neither was he. He loved making you cum on his tongue, loved how you tasted.

It wasn’t long before you warned him you were close, and he just hummed into you, vibrations making you arch up off the bed, tugging equally as hard on his hair as you did the sheets beside you.

“I will never get sick of making you feel good, Yn. I love that I am the one who gets to spend these moments with you.”

“Harvey,” you swooned, cupping his face to bring him back up so you could kiss him. Your scent was strong on his lips and made you only need him that much more. All it took was a few impatient grabs at his shirt to make him take it off so you could finally get your hands on that body of his.

All that time in the boxing gym surely paid off.

Harvey brough your knee up and pushed it flat on the bed, pulling the other one around his hip. He pushed in, chest to chest with you as he sat still for a few moments.

“I love you so much, Yn,” Harvey whispered, thumb training down your cheek, your neck. He slid it all the way down your arm and laced your fingers together, kissing them as he pulled back. He wouldn’t leave your lips alone, not that you wanted that in the slightest. He was all soft words and pleas of desperation. Telling you how good you felt.

It was like your wedding night all over again. When the two of you met, it had been in a fury of hands and tongues. All fast because there wasn’t a second to waste when it finally happened. But on your big day, he laid you down, just like this, and worshiped you all night long.

Every word from his mouth was just him telling you how much you meant to him, his body seconding that omission. He was so dedicated to you, to making you feel good. It was all long, smooth strokes of his body inside yours, the warmth of your combined breaths. Swallowing each other's noises of pleasure.

“I am so in love with you,” Harvey smiled. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

You couldn’t hide your smile if you tried. It wasn’t rare that Harvey was affectionate– per say– but this was an illusive moment. He wine and dined you whenever you asked, you were always his plus one anywhere in the world. But it was these small, yet enormous moments of intimacy that you cherished the most. This was a side of Harvey that took a very long time to bring to the surface. And he too realized the weight of just taking his time and being soft with you.

“I love you too, Harvey,” you whispered against his face, his mouth now busy with the side of your neck. Harvey couldn’t keep his hips slow for long, and they snapped to yours. Air pushed out of your mouth and right into his ear, right where it drove him crazy to hear what he did to you.

“Fuck, my love, if you keep making those sounds this isn’t exactly going to be how I-”

“Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” you responded, locking your ankles together behind his back.

A shiver ran through his shoulders and he dropped to his elbows, hips driving into you faster and faster. Harder. It didn’t take him long to reach his high, fucking you through it. His heart pounded underneath his skin so hard you could feel it. A slight sweat at the back of his head where hair met skin.

When he lifted his head, his eyes looked less… weighted. He looked much more himself. Muc more like Harvey and a little less like Mr. Specter.

You mentally patted yourself on the back.

There wasn’t anything you could do to convince him to not drag you into the shower down the hall. The warmth of the water, the heaviness in your body only made his fingers on your scalp that much better. He kissed all over, giving your ass a loving smack when getting out before wrapping a big towel around the both of you.

“Promise in the morning that we can do this all again and then I can make you a big breakfast?”

“Only if you promise that there will be sausage and bacon,” your eyes were droopy, but the smile reached them anyway.

“Good thing Postmates will go to the grocery store nowadays,” Harvey slipped one of his shirts over your head, straightening it out over your body. “You look so adorable in my clothes.”

“I know, why do you think I wear them when you’re gone?” “You wear my clothes when I’m gone?” You pff’ed out some air, “Don’t act like you don’t notice the suspiciously large pile of your laundry in the hamper when you come back.”

“I don’t think you know how happy that makes me, Yn,” Harvey’s smile was nothing short of pure adoration. He was never short on pure adoration when it came to you.

“Yes I do,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why do you think I do it?”

“Because you know me. Really really well.”

“That I do.”

Harvey breathed out, shaking his head. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for something anyone would do for their husband.”

“Well, in my experience, most wives aren’t nearly as observant or as dedicated as you are, Yn. And I want you to know how much I appreciate you and everything you help me through when I don’t know how to help myself.”

Your eyes melted, much like your heart when he hugged you. Nice and tight and just how you liked them. You always felt impossibly safe with him, and his hugs were impossibly your favorite thing in the world.

Harvey would listen better in the morning. Especially after a good night's sleep. You just hope that all your efforts will lead him in the right direction. And that direction isn’t the clearest right now, and that’s okay. Both of you know it’s okay to not make a decision as big as something like this.

But you know Harvey will try. And that is all you can ask of him.

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter smut #harvey specter fanfiction #suits smut #suits fanfiction #suits fanfic #suits tv #suits

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angelrari · 9 months

Text

gossip girl · pt. ii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! thank you so much for the comments and the love gave to the first part. i am so excited about this!! i hope you like this part a lot!

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· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

· · · · ·

the event was extravagant. the guests were all notable people, from celebrities to businessmen, and the tables were perfectly decorated, filled with the finest wines and delicious food prepared by the best catering in town. it definitely was a party to remember, that would be talked about for years and it would solidify jolie's reputation.

"hi, sweetie". you heard a familiar voice say behind you and quickly you turned around.

"oh, hey mom. you look gorgeous". she smiled at the compliment and grabbed the hem of her dress to show off, which made you smile back to her. "where is it from?".

"chanel. it hasn't been the same since karl passed away, but virginie viard does things right, sometimes". she showed her disappointment with a wry face. "you also look fantastic, sweetie".

"thank you, mom". you took a sip of champagne. "where's dad, by the way?".

"oh, he's talking to the red bull kid. what was his name? martin? marcus?".

"max, mom".

"exactly, him. your father decided to invest in red bull a few years ago, after charles and you broke up, and it seems like the kid made him win a lot of money". she explained. "you know, your father doesn't know how to have fun without involving business in it".

"i guess somethings never change". you said and she nodded in agreement.

"look at them". your mother said and discreetly signaled with her gaze. jolie and arthur were dancing together, looking like they were having the time of their lives. "they remind me of-".

"charles and i". you interrupted. "i do feel that way too, but jolie keeps saying they are just friends".

"your sister is ambitious, maybe a little too much, and she won't settle for a formula 2 driver".

"i know". you sighed. "maybe i have to remind her i started dating charles when he was in formula 2".

"please, do. i'd love to have a leclerc in my family and now that you won't-".

"mom!". you interjected and she laughed in response.

"they are nice kids! and their mother is a wonderful person". she added and you rolled your eyes at her words. "anyway, you should go and talk to charles, he asked me about you earlier".

"let me get drunk first, maybe that way it will be less awkward".

· · · · ·

the autumn wind made your cheeks turn red and your hands cold. you were at the rooftop of the casino, where only a few people were. you were exhausted from avoiding charles and léa. somehow seeing them together made your stomach turn. what if they already felt this way when charles and you were dating? were there signs? did you miss them?

"y/n". you heard someone say and jumped at the sound of their voice. you turned around to face them, with both of your hands on your chest, feeling the heartbeat increase rapidly.

"oh, god". you breathed out, embarrassed by your reaction. "you scared me, max".

"sorry, i didn't mean to". he quickly apologized, smiling back at you.

"don't worry". you said. "how have you been? it's been a long time since i last saw you".

"eveything's good, yeah. i've been working a lot, but that's not exactly new, and things have been working well for me so far". the dutchman explained. "how about you? your father told me you were studying at harvard?"

"yeah, i just finished a master in business administration there and i came back a couple of days ago. i rushed it a bit to be able to attend to jolie's birthday today".

"and how come you're here?".

"to be honest, i kind of wanted to avoid some people". you answered and he laughed.

"right, charles and léa".

"i didn't name anybody!". you quickly replied and he chuckled.

you stared at the sea, feeling max join beside you. a cold wind breeze made you shiver and you moved your hands up and down your arms to warm your body up. max, who had noticed, took off his black blazer.

"here, take this".

"oh, no, you're gonna be cold and-".

"please". he pleaded and you nodded. he placed the black blazer and your shoulders and you smiled sincerely.

"thank you, max".

"it's nothing". he said and looked ahead of him. "i'm trying to get away from your dad and his friends". he confessed.

"i feel you, they just don't know when to stop. my mom has been also chasing me, telling me to go talk to charles and, please don't tell him, but that's the last thing i want to do".

"don't worry, i understand. it mustn't be easy to see your ex and the girl who used to be your best friend together".

"it's not". you agreed. "it's just- many things come back, you know? i do wish them the best and i hope their relationship lasts, but somehow it makes me question so many things. i keep thinking when did all of this start and if they liked each other when charles and i-. fuck, sorry, i'm drunk and i'm talking too much".

"it's okay". he reassured. "i know you probably don't like the advice i'm about to give you, but i think you should talk to them".

"i know, but léa hates me for leaving and i don't wanna mess things up between charles and i more. jolie and arthur are such good friends and i am scared of the consequences. i just- i don't want to start a war".

"you know this way you will never find peace, right?". he asked and you nodded. "you're gonna see them often. that's the downside of monaco. you're gonna attend the same events and you're gonna hang out with the same people". he turned around and his blue eyes starred directly at yours. "there's just no way to avoid this".

"i know, but i'd rather not do this tonight". you confessed. "thank you, max".

"what for?".

"for all of this. you probably have better things to do and here you are listening to my problems".

"well, you're helping me hide from your father, so i think that makes us even". he joked and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"i will keep your secret too".

"please, do". he begged. you starred at the moon, but he starred at you. "what are you thinking?".

"about how to leave this party without my parents noticing".

"well, i've got an idea". he said. "follow me".

max put out his hand to you and you took it. you followed him to the elevator and when you reached the first floor, where the party was taking place, he slyly guided you to a back door you didn't know it existed.

"you know, most times, when we come to the casino, we enter through this door". he explained. "people who don't want to be seen use this".

"right".

max quietly opened the door, praying nobody would be outside, but unluckily your dad and his friends were smoking near the exit. you looked at max, who starred back at you worried, grabbed his hand and started running so your father wouldn't stop you.

"y/n!". your father exclaimed.

"sorry dad! see you!". you said still running to max's car.

max took out his car keys and opened the door of his porsche for you. you sat on the front passenger seat and, a few seconds later, he joined you, sitting on the driver's seat.

"i swear the adrenaline rush i've got it's better than when i race". he said chuckling and afterwards he started the engine of the car.

the city lights let you appreciate the ocean blue in his eyes. max focused on the road ahead, but his smile didn't fade. he was attractive. hands on the wheel and eyes locked on the road, you could sense the confidence on his driving and somehow you felt safe.

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taglist: @cha-hot @carlandonorri-s @raizelchrysanderoctavius @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @crlsummer

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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’.

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do.

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things.

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking.

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head.

“No, why?”

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.”

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you.

“They’re delicious.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you.

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist.

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.”

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?”

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.”

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good.

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise.

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body.

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease.

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table.

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly.

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little.

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?”

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.”

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.”

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up.

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you.

“Running away?”

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest.

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.”

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks.

“If I have to.” You answer back.

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.”

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office.

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations. Your bag sits on the floor next to it.

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk.

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.”

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.”

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself.

“You looking that sinful.”

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?”

He smirks, “As real as you and I.”

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it.

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed.

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to?

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?”

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath.

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though.

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.”

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up.

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing.

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.”

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?”

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.”

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug.

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.”

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life.

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.”

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks.

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it.

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain.

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough.

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly.

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him.

“Your mouth.”

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties.

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.”

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.”

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet.

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?”

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.”

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head.

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?”

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk.

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good.

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun.

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again.

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.”

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.”

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now.

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.”

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright.

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.”

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse.

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position.

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear.

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man.

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?”

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on.

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel.

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.”

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #The mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #plus size reader

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chefkids · 3 months

Note

I love your meta!!! It’s amazing that you’re still able to identify and connect new things that the rest of us overlooked. Do you have any predictions for next season? Not just with SydCarmy but also any thoughts about where the show may take us

Thank you!

I think a big focus of next season is going to be on their lives intertwining and their families coming together. Season 3 ended with Richie, Nat, Carmy, and Sydney all coming together to open the restaurant and including her in their core group like family. And like Ayo and everyone in the show has said, this is all about chosen family and real family. But I also think a lot of bad shit is going to happen, especially at the very start of the season.

After Carmy practically begging to meet Sydney's dad, I do think Emmanuel and Carmy will finally meet. I do not think he is going to like Carmy at the start. He is very sceptical of their whole arrangement, he knows Sydney quit for a minute and might have heard Sydney talk shit about him. And if he ever finds out what went down on opening night, I don't think he'll be too happy with Carmy. But I do think they will eventually bond and get to know each other, I think including that Sydney's dad was sober from alcohol is going to be a big conversation for them.

I think they were alluding for Natalie having some sort of complication maybe preeclampsia with her shoulder pain. I think she's going to give birth sooner rather than later. Natalie giving birth is going to bring Donna back and is what is going to get Carmy and his mother to finally see each other again after seemingly years apart.

I also think Donna and Sydney will meet. I think Natalie and Sydney are both going to try to get Carmy to at least try to give his mother a chance because they are both much more optimistic and forgiving people than him. I think it's going to cause a lot of tension between all of them because Carmy doesn't want Sydney seeing that side of his family.

Sydney's share/ownership of the restaurant comes back into question. I also think Carmy getting more credit/recognition than her in reviews or press will bother her. I think she will basically say that this place is not really hers. Someone tries to poach Sydney, Carmy freaks out. Sydney starts to consider if it is worth staying if another good opportunity comes along.

Marcus' mom is dead and gone. RIP to that lady. I think grief and how they all deal with it differently will be a big theme. Carmy ignored his grief for a long time and tried to use work to fix things. Sydney and her dad still keep her mom's memory alive but she still struggles with letting others know about her grief. I think Marcus will be letting others help him and be there for him and Sydney will be there for him. I think this will bring back things Carmy about his own grief and how he's still dealing with it.

Luca returns to fill in for him for a bit and emotional support for Marcus. Which I think will also bring us to see Competitive Carmy in full force as goes into Michelin Mode, for Syd's sake. No amusement or enjoyment. I also think this will kinda turn the crew against Carmy as they'll prefer Sydney, they kind of already do. Especially considering she was more involved in training them and in the build than he was. Plus she's just nicer than him.

Sydney will overwork herself and burn out, she won't trust Carmy on his own and will inevitably put a lot of pressure on herself. She's not going to want to quit or stop but Carmy and her Dad will be pressuring her to slow down because she's making herself sick. I think a large focus of Season 3 will be on their energy. In Season 1 it was all about the pressure of money, Season 2 about time pressure, and now they need to find the energy to keep going because they need to make back money in a set time frame. The focus on energy and their internal dynamics between them, rather than external issues like things in restaurant being broken.

Jealous Carmy. When he realizes Marcus likes Syd more than a friend, he's going to view everyone as competition and a threat, even though he's still to scared to do anything about it. I think Sydney will grow closer to Marcus and Richie and maybe even Luca or new guy Connor, not in any romantic way, but it is going to bother Carmy a lot that she never spends any time with him and that they know her outside of work but he doesn't.

Menu overhaul is inevitable, aside from Marcus dishes, most of the menu is not that remarkable and they really need to pull out new interesting ideas if they want a star. I'm sure we will see a lot more of Syd and Carmy actually testing recipes together. Carmy is just not as creative as Sydney when it comes to food, he struggled with the chaos menu. Mostly as Carmy's way to force proximity with Syd when she doesn't want to be around him.

I'm also still rooting for the return of the short rib risotto and the missing acid chaos ingredient. They have to bring it back.

Tina and/or Richie straight up comment on Sydcarmy. I think Tina knows and suspects a lot more than she lets on. She is very observant and protective over Sydney. She's overheard and seen a lot of what has been going down between them. She's going to put Carmy in his place and scare him a little on Sydney's behalf.

Richie on a similar note is going to put 2 and 2 together on what Carmy is feeling and basically tell him to stay away from Sydney because he doesn't want a Claire 2.0 to happen to her and he probably feels like Carmy does not even deserve Sydney in any way and he would just fuck things up for everyone at the restaurant.

Natalie finally says something to him and that's what finally gets him to do something and stop bottling everything in. She never commented on his relationship to anyone except Sydney, and that was more so to get her in the loop and protect her, because she knew Carmy was leading her on while seeing Claire and not telling her. She's going to subtly or not so subtly ask him wtf he is doing. I also think Jimmy fully thought Sydney was his girlfriend.

Fire Suppression System will tested for real with an actual fire. I have a lil theory that Sydney is going to be the one to accidentally start a fire next season. The fire suppression test was all a metaphor for Syd and Carmy suppressing their feelings and the spark/fire that they have. At the end of season 1 Carmy started a grease fire after Sydney quit, because he couldn't suppress his sadness and feelings for her. In season 2 they passed the fire suppression and Carmy decided to declare Claire his girlfriend. They managed to contain their feelings, but eventually they still came out with Carmy and his panic attack. But now I'm sure Sydney is going to be the one trying to suppress feelings because of how everything went down, and I think it will just blow up in her face literally and metaphorically. They spent so much time explaining the fire suppression system and the electrical wiring and the amperage of it all, that I think it's going to come into play again.

Carmy uses Sydney for emotional support without her realizing. When he texted her because he needed her comfort and forgiveness before opening Mikey's note, she didn't know that was what was happening. When he had panic attack and thought of her to calm down he used her for comfort, but she doesn't know all that. I think he's going to tell her or show her that she is his comfort person. I also think we will also see Sydney eventually reach for him for support and comfort as well.

Sydney's catering days and UPS flashback. Please I am begging. We need more of her lore. I think next season will be a lot of seeing her as more independent and being the boss, we only just started to see her at her peak performance in the last episode. I think we'll see more of her evolution, and also her flighty nature. She went from restaurant to restaurant. I think the idea of her leaving The Bear will hang around all season, but she won't leave.

Claire apology then goodbye within the same episode. Sorry to that girl. I think Carmy was already planning to breakup with her after he had the panic attack and the talk with Uncle Jimmy, which is why he freaked out when after he saw her at dinner. I don't think there would be much place for her unless they throw her into some hospital scenes with maybe Nat or Sydney being sick. I think her work here is done. I think she might make other appearances with the Faks. They are close family friends. Maybe she's friends with the elusive Francie Fak that everyone is dying to know what happened between her and Nat.

I think Richie will try to work elsewhere for a bit. He wants to prove that he doesn't need Carmy and that he can succeed without him. I think he'll come back when Sydney asks him to. The situation with him and Tiff feels very 50/50 to me. On the one hand I think it could be him learning to move on from his ex, on the other hand I think Chris and Joanna are all about second chances and I could see Tiff seeing Richie change and wanting to give things another chance.

I also think there's opportunity to see another city like we did with Copenhagen. I'm still rooting for Carmy to take Syd to Noma before it shuts down. I could also see a New York flashback episode with Carmy working at Eleven Madison and Sydney going on her NYC food tour and their whole invisible string coming together.

Not in this season, but The Bear Cookbook will happen. Trust.

And The Psychedelic Musical Episode. A girl can dream. But I do think we'll get another karaoke scene, maybe with the whole crew going out after a shift and just letting loose for once.

#the bear #the bear meta #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #chefs kiss #the bear fx

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sinofwriting · 8 months

Text

Wine - Oscar Piastri (lover verse)

Words: 977 Summary: Oscar (and Apples) go on the screaming meals podcast after everyone finds out about their marriage. Note(s): This part of the lover verse and I recommend you read the first part before this one so it makes sense. Read lover here

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | lover verse

“We have an Aussie on the pod today.” James says. “Indeed we do. The wonder boy himself, Oscar Piastri!” Clement continues and the three guys clap while Oscar looks behind the camera where his wife is feeling a little awkward. “Thank you for coming, Oscar. Was a bit of bitch to get you on though.” Oscar chuckles, nodding. “Just a bit. I’m glad I could make it though. I’ve been watching since the first episode.” “That’s right.” Marcus says. “I remember you texting me about it.”

“Ladies, Gentleman, you may notice we have five glasses on the table in front of us. And that is because Oscar’s wife is here as well.” “Hello!” She greets from behind the camera, sending a smile James’ way. She and the insurance broker had spent a fair amount of time together when Oscar was in F2. “She also brought the wine for today.” Clem chimes in, picking the bottle up. “Really, Apples is just trying to prove that she is the best guest to have.” He lets out a laugh seeing the label. “Ah, a bit of DR3 wine. I haven’t actually had this yet. Is it good?” He turns his head a bit to ask her, knowing that between her and Oscar she’s the one who likes wine more. She nods. “My mom loves it as well and you know her, bit of a wine snob. I also brought another one though if we get through that one a bit too quickly.” Clem makes a small noise, hand coming over his heart and he looks back at Oscar. “Mate, I might have to steal your wife.” Oscar shakes his head at the Frenchman but chuckles. He hadn’t expected the friendship between her and Clem, but it had started from their shared interest in wine and had only grown.

“Do you mind if we actually talk about you, Apples?” James asks, as Marcus takes the wine from Clem to open it. Easily passing the cork over to Clem to smell. “Not at all.” She says, reaching somewhat into frame to take the glass of wine from Marcus, giving him a quick squeeze to the hand in silent thanks after.

“So the Australian Grand Prix.” Marcus starts, handing the next glass over to Oscar, who immediately groans at the words. “I mean, what a home race.” The younger man makes a face, shifting in place as he clutches the glass of wine. “It was something.” He allows. “It was a clusterfuck, mate.” James chuckles, taking the next glass of wine from Marcus. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean truly.” Marcus says, passing Clem a glass who gives a silent cheer to him, before finally pouring himself a glass. “I mean, the media ran fucking wild and it was nuts.” “I was there with Clem for the F2 race and oh yeah, the media was something.” “I mean,” Oscar huffs, running a hand over his face. It had been months but still he was bothered over this. “It wasn’t like a secret y’know? Everyone in F3 and F2 knew about it. I mean obviously.” He waves a hand at three guys. “So I’m just amazed at the press and social media just not knowing it.” Clem wags a finger at the camera. “And you call yourself a journalist. Couldn’t even do basic research.” “Seriously.” Oscar says, and Marcus can’t help but laugh at how bothered Oscar is. It was a change from the usual unflappable or unbothered way he was.

“I also found out from Mrs. Piastri herself that the drivers didn’t know?” James asks. “They didn’t.” She confirms. “Well, Logan obviously did.” Marcus says, remembering how Logan had taken a weird older brother role to the Aussie couple. “But the rest didn’t? Not even Ocon? Or Alonso?” Oscar looks over at her, raising an eyebrow and she gives a shrug. “Ocon didn’t, Alonso, I mean maybe? He congratulated me after the news broke when he saw me next, but I mean it’s Alonso, who ever knows with him.” “Fair point.” James chuckles, lifting his glass a bit.

Apples watches from behind the camera for the rest of the podcast, only coming into frame once more for a refill on her glass of wine. Though she occasionally says something, fake chiding one of the boys or urging Oscar to open up a bit more, her husband still a bit too aware of the camera on him. Makes her wish she had taken that shot that Clem offered her before they started rolling, knowing that Oscar would have also had one if she had.

When they finish up, Oscar goes to move, switch to the other couch so Clem and James can sit with Marcus to film yeah g’day mate, but Marcus stills him and waves her over. She raises an eyebrow aware of the still rolling cameras but she goes over, easily sitting on the arm of the couch that Oscar is pressed against. As soon as she sits the other two are also piling onto the couch, Clem diving in between Oscar and Marcus, elbowing the Kiwi as James tries to grab the back of the French’s shirt, just barely managing to pull him up off the couch.

“Sit on the arm mate. You’re tiny enough. And budge over, Marcus.” “Why do I have to move?” Marcus asks, but slides over, knocking his and Oscar’s elbows together. “Because you're small enough to be in the middle. It’ll look weird with me.”

As the three start to bicker, Oscar leans his head against her and she runs her fingers through his hair, smiling down at him as he tilts his head backwards to look up at her. “You alright, Os?” She murmurs, Marcus’ squawk of protest surely prevents the mic from picking up her question. He nods, flashing her a smile.

@cixrosie @gemofthenight @copper-boom @boiohboii @iloveyou3000morgan @Benstormy @peachiicherries @topguncultleader @lpab

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #lover verse

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chiriwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

The Girl in IT - 6. The Adults are Talking

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Sugar finds her voice amongst the people who want to see her fail.

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Breeding kink, Sugar's parents are the worst and treat her like garbage, Sugar finally finds her voice and stands up to her father, Some angst, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: And here we go, the chapter where Sugar and Joel finally face off with her parents. This does edge onto angst, as I really wanted to showcase just how Sugar's upbringing really affected her mental health, and how she overcomes it. I cried writing this chapter, because I know how it feels to have people in your life just waiting for you to fuck up, and it's something Sugar has had to deal with all of her life. Honestly, this chapter makes me nervous because I know you all are expecting all of the fluff and smut that Joel and Sugar should be having, but I promise this will probably be the only chapter with heavy stuff. It'll be smooth sailing after this!

"So, I heard an interesting rumor floating around the club lately."

"Good morning to you too, Mother," you mutter, keeping your eyes on the road. "Who's the poor unfortunate soul this time?"

There's a brief pause before your mom responds, her voice almost hesitant. "Well, darling, you know I usually don't pay attention to the ladies and their gossip, but-"

"Just tell me already, Mom!" you exclaim, turning into the office parking lot.

"Well," she starts, "I heard that Joel Miller has gotten himself a... what do you call them? A Sugar Baby? Marcia told me that Lenore from Neiman Marcus said they had-" she clears her throat, "sex," she whispers, "in the dressing room! How scandalous! I heard she's a pretty little young thing! I swear, if that was my daughter, I would die of embarrassment!"

You slam on the brakes suddenly, your eyes widening in shock. Someone honks behind you in response, but you can't pay it any mind. The blood rushes to your ears as you start to hyperventilate.

"Sugar? Are you there? Is it true? Have you noticed anything at work lately?" you hear your mother from across the line. "Hello?!"

You take a deep breath, pulling into the nearest empty stall. "I'm here, Mom," you say shakily, cutting the ignition and resting your head on the steering wheel.

"Well, it's shameful, that sort of behavior," your mom continues, "It's a good thing your father and I raised you right!" she tsks, and you imagine her shaking her head in disgust as she inspects her nails. "Besides, I have nothing to worry about when it comes to you, baby."

That's what gets your attention. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, baby. That kind of behavior isn't something I would associate with you," she coos, "besides, the girl they said Joel was with was really pretty-"

"Are you implying that I'm not attractive enough for someone like Joel?" you ask incredulously, your hands gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. "What if that girl in the rumor was me, Mom? What then? Would you actually die from embarrassment?"

"... but it wasn't you, Sugar. I raised you better than that, no matter how pretty you could be. I mean, if you just weren't so plain, maybe I would believe that it was you that was in that dressing room with him, but those kinds of girls, baby, that ain't you-"

"Mom," you sigh, feeling the impending headache that usually accompanies conversations with her, "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" your mom sputters, "Don't forget about the dinner tonight!"

"What dinner?"

"Oh, don't tell me you forgot!" your mother exclaims, a hint of outrage in her voice. "It's our Ruby wedding anniversary! I sent you an invite. How could you forget? Your father is looking forward to seeing you. Now that you have your big girl job and live on your own, acting like we don't exist. You would think after paying for your education, you would be more grateful-"

"Fine, Mom, I'll be there! What time is it?" you cut her off, the tears already forming at the corner of your eyes. You don't want to be subjected to another one of her guilt trips, fully aware that she'll win, every time. "And I assume it'll be cocktail attire?"

"Oh, yes," your mother purrs, "At 6. I'll make sure the caterers add a place setting for you. Do you need to borrow anything of mine to wear? I'm not sure if you were able to shed those ten pounds I've been telling you to lose. I don't know if anything I have would fit those hips of yours-"

"Two."

"What was that, darling?" you take note of the hesitation in your mother's voice.

"Tell the caterers to put two more settings at the table, Mom."

"Why?" your mother asks, clearly in shock. "Sugar, are you seeing someone? Who is it? Is it someone we know?"

"I guess you'll have to wait to find out," you say, a hint of satisfaction in your tone. "See you at 6!" you say hurriedly, hanging up before she could pry further.

"Fuck." You mutter, slamming your head against the steering wheel once more. "Fuck my life."

Groaning, you snatch up your phone and purse, slamming the door of your Tesla as you stride into the office. With a determined look etched on your face, you attempt to breeze past Connie, resolute in avoiding another interrogation as you navigate down the hall.

"Good morning, Sugar!" she chirps. "So, about yesterday-"

"Not now, Connie!" you mutter, briskly pushing past her, laser-focused on reaching Joel's office. He's already at his desk, his gaze intensely fixed on his iPad, an apple pencil dangling from his mouth as he reviews schematics. You slam his office door behind you, his eyes darting toward you as you drop your purse on the floor. You discard your blazer, shove his office chair back, and settle onto his lap. Burying your face into his neck, the tears you've been holding back start to flow earnestly from your eyes.

Joel's arms instinctively wrap around you, drawing you close as he gently pulls back to get a good look at your face. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asks, his face etched with genuine concern. "Did Connie corner you in the lounge again? I swear Tess gave her the warning of a lifetime yesterday-"

"Are you busy tonight?" you cut him off, gasping for air, the weight of anxiety from your mother's conversation finally sinking in. "I know this is really last minute, but my mother-"

"Baby," Joel repeats, his hands firm on your arms, steadying you. "Breathe. What happened?"

"They know, everyone in Austin knows about us," you admit with a sniffle. "My mother called, mentioning that her friends at the club were gossiping about you having a sugar baby, and I completely forgot it's my parents' wedding anniversary tonight. I might have told her to add another place setting for you..." you stammer, "... and now I have nothing to wear. I can't borrow anything from her because I didn't lose the ten pounds she asked me to"

"Easy, Sugar," Joel murmurs, his lips grazing your forehead as his hands trace up your arms, providing a soothing touch. "Start from the top," he suggests, leaning back in his chair and gently pulling you against his chest, his fingers rhythmically rubbing your back. "You spoke to your mother today, and she mentioned a rumor going around about us, right?"

"Lenore might have let slip to one of her clients about our... moment in the dressing room," you confess against his chest.

You feel him sigh deeply, the gentle rumble of his chest against your face. "If they only knew that wasn't the case," he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. "You know that, right? You're everything to me, baby. You ain't no sugar baby, not to me."

"I know, Joel," you reply with a tiny sob. "It doesn't mean it hurts any less, though. It's like they want to see us fail, see me fail."

Joel pulls you away again, a serious look in his eyes. "Are you ashamed of this? of us? Do you see yourself as how they see you? Do you think I care what those old bitches say about me?"

You shake your head frantically. "No, Joel-"

"No one gave a damn about my life before all of this," he gestures toward his office, taking your hand in his, "and now that I finally have some worth in their eyes, it's like... I'm cattle being led to slaughter. I'll never get used to it."

"I grew up surrounded by that shit my entire life," you whisper sadly. "Every move I made was up for debate – what clothes I wore, who I decided to bring into my life. It was always dissected and analyzed as if everything I did could have a double meaning. I hated it, this constant scrutiny. I always had to be 'good,' never step out of line, and always know my place."

"Is that why you always felt the need to hide yourself all the time?"

"It's what made things easier, honestly." You fiddle with the button of his flannel. "I hated the attention, I hated that my mother would go into my closet every day and make sure I wore certain things that wouldn't embarrass her, that she would only feed me rabbit food so I wouldn't 'let myself go'. She came from nothing, you know? She was my father's secretary, getting swept away with his money and his connections. She was in my place, once. You would think that she would show me mercy." You laugh to yourself, bitterly. "I was always an embarrassment in my parent's eyes, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not driven enough. I worked my ass off, and they still treat me like they did when I was a kid. "

"Yet, here we are," Joel murmurs, a gentle understanding in his eyes as he reaches to caress your cheek. "You've overcome so much, and you're not defined by their standards. You're your own person, and you've earned your worth on your own terms."

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his hand. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees past all that, someone who appreciates me for who I am. Crazy family and all."

Joel smiles tenderly. "Well, you have, and I see a remarkable person in front of me. The past is just that – the past. We're building our own story now, and you're not defined by anyone else's expectations."

You smile sadly at Joel. "I hate thinking about this, about my parents. It always puts me in a terrible mood. Can we talk about something else, please?"

"What do you need me to do, baby?" Joel breathes, "Do you want me to help you forget?" He helps you onto your feet, leaning your body against the edge of his desk. He pushes the hem of your dress up your thighs, the edge of your stockings being held by a garter exposed as your breath hitches on your throat. "Fucking exquisite," he says, his lips kissing your thigh. "What do you need?" he repeats, almost begging.

"I need you to fuck the pain away, Joel," you whisper, spreading your legs further. "Help me forget, please," you beg, your back arching as his hands travel up beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingers make their way up to your core, and his fingertips graze the gusset of your thong, adding pressure as he traces along your slit through the wet fabric. Your legs start to shake as his finger slips beneath the fabric, the edge of his fingertips probing at your entrance. Joel hums in satisfaction. He slowly inches his fingers into you. "Do you think you can come, just like this?"

"Yes," you moan, hitching your leg higher as you place your foot on his desk chair. He slides his fingers into you, the squelch of your wetness echoing throughout his office walls as he prods into you, his eyes dark as he watches his fingers being swallowed whole in your pussy. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Should we check something off from my list?" he asks, moving his fingers away from your pussy as you whine from the loss of sensation, putting the glistening digits into his mouth, savoring your taste.

You nod eagerly. "Yes, Joel. Please-"

"Turn around for me, Sugar," he softly commands. "... and grab onto something." You oblige, slowly turning so you are facing his desk, his hands pushing your back so your chest is resting on its surface. Your hands grab onto the edge of it, pushing your ass higher as he lifts the hem of your dress, exposing your ass. You swear you can imagine his smirk as his hands travel up the globes of your asscheeks, his grasp harsh, squeezing the plumpness of it. He grips your thighs and spreads them wider, lifting your ass to be level with his cock. He starts to grind into your core, your body trembling in his wake.

He hooks his fingers through the elastic edge of your panties, ripping it off your hips. You turn your head to face him, watching as he pockets the scrap of lace into his back pocket. "You won't be needing this," he whispers, and you watch as he unzips his jeans, pushing it down along with his boxer briefs, his cock swollen and leaking at the tip. You gasp at the sight, rolling your bottom lip against your teeth. He rubs his erection through your folds, notching the tip of your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me, Sugar?"

He slides in before you can reply, and your voice gets caught in your throat, the feeling of him inside of you so delicious you moan out in pleasure. He starts to fuck you slowly, deeply. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good, so fucking tight!" he harshly grabs onto your hips as he begins to cant his hips against yours, the angle he set hitting you just right. The entire desk starts to shake as he pounds into you, and you have half of a mind to say something, but Joel continues his pace, his head thrown back, eyes closed. Thank god for the carpet, you think to yourself.

He gathers your hair, pulling your body towards his as he continues to thrust harshly into you. "You're so good like this, baby. So fucking good for me, right Sugar?" he rips your dress from the front, the buttons flying throughout his office, pulling your breasts from the cups of your bra. He's pumping into you relentlessly, his mouth latching onto your neck. He grabs your breasts, kneading and squeezing. "One of these days you'll let me fuck these," he breathes in your ear.

"Joel, my dress!" you exclaim. "I can't walk around the office with my tits out!"

"We're going shopping after this, baby, don't you worry. You can wear the shirt off my back for all I care, gonna have to teach Lenore a lesson for having a big fucking mouth-"

"Can we not talk about another woman when you're balls deep inside of me?" you whine, meeting his thrusts as you pull on his shirt, trying to keep your moans as silent as possible, not wanting the entire office to hear Joel railing you into oblivion. "Fuck Joel, can you fuck me harder?"

Joel halts, pressing his cock deep inside, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. He reaches behind him, rolling his desk chair towards him to sit as he pulls you onto his lap, impaling you. "You're gonna have to be real quiet for me, okay baby?" he whispers against your throat. "We shouldn't be doing this, but I can't fucking get enough of you. Want to claim you on every fucking inch of this office, do you want that, baby? for me to fuck you on every single surface of this office?"

"Yes!" you scream, hopping on Joel's cock as he thrusts up into you, the position allowing you to feel all of him. "Fuck Joel, I feel so fucking full, how are you this massive? Fuck-"

"I'm going to fill you up, make you take all of my cum, make you mine completely. Remember when I sang you that song all those years ago? I looked into your eyes and swore I saw my future children in your eyes, fuck, It's all I've thought about," he groans, and it stirs something deep inside of you, the thought of your children, with Joel's brown eyes and smile, running around in the house, laughing, playing, living a life you were denied as a child. "Are you going to be the mother of my children?"

"Yes! Yes, fucking fill me up, make me yours, I can take it, I can take it! Fuck a baby into me, baby, I'll be so good, so so good-"

Joel's hand goes to your clit, his fingers rough against the nub, rubbing it furiously as you chase your release. "Then fucking come for me, Sugar," he commands. Come for me on my cock and I'll give you the entire fucking world-" He covers your mouth with his hands, his thrusts slow and deep as you fall apart completely. He braces your hands on the edge of the desk as he kicks his chair backward, pounding into you as he chases his release, his face in your neck as he sucks on your pulse point. "You think it'll take this time? You gonna give me baby?"

"Yes! Fill me up, I want all of it!"

Joel groans at that, thrusting into you once more as he falls apart, coming into you deep. You feel his cum fill you so much to the point that it starts to leak out of you. Joel keeps himself inside, panting heavily against your neck. "Fuck baby, I love you so fucking much." He kisses your cheek, pulling himself out of you slowly as he slumps onto his chair once more, his head thrown back in exhaustion. He unbuttons his flannel, throwing it towards you. "Put this on," he says, shrugging his jacket on as you straighten yourself. You raise your eyebrows at him as you button on his shirt, drowning in it. Joel gives you a wry smile. "Cancel all of your appointments, we're going shopping."

"Oh yeah? Just drop work, just like that?"

"Yeah," he replies nonchalantly. "I think it's time we visit our good friend Lenore. Have a little chat."

"Are you ready?" you nervously ask Joel as the two of you stand at the front door. "We can always turn around, say that I'm sick or something-" You fiddle with the hem of your dress, straightening yourself. "Don't you think this dress is a little much?" you ask absentmindedly.

"I think the real question is if you're ready, baby," he replies, a small reassuring smile on his face. "I've been telling you that I've been wanting to scream from the rooftops, yelling that you're mine-"

"I am yours like you are mine." You smile, placing your hands on his chest as you pull him towards you, his lips meeting yours. "I've never been so sure in my life, Joel. I think it's time we stop fucking around, right?"

"I've been yours since the first day I saw you, I was a goner-" he leans in for another kiss as you greedily accept, kissing him deeper, and deeper, and his hands travel lower, and lower, and your hands travel higher, and higher, until they reach the hair at the nape of his neck, and you're pulling, pulling, pulling, getting lost in his embrace. How can something that feels so good and so pure be so terrible to those around you?

"Sugar?!" Your mother's surprised voice slices through the air like a warning shot, abruptly shattering the enchantment between you and Joel. "Mr. Miller?!?" Her exclamation hangs in the tense moment, her gaping mouth and contorted expression revealing a mix of shock and embarrassment. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Mom, I-" you stammer, clearly struggling for words.

"Ma'am," Joel interjects, cutting through the tension. He gracefully presents her with the bouquet that rests on the bench, the vivid orange lilies contrasting against the soft pink of the Rhododendrons he had chosen at the florist. "How do you say 'Fuck you, I've won?'" he whispers with a smirk to the florist while sliding his black Amex across the counter. The resulting display is a beautiful arrangement, yet it carries an unmistakably direct message – as if declaring, "I love and desire your daughter, but I loathe you, so stand the hell back." Joel continues, "It's been a long time; I see the roof is holding up nicely-"

"Yes, well," your mother chokes, hastily grabbing the bouquet from his outstretched hand. "These are beautiful, Mr. Miller-"

"Come on, we're past pleasantries. Call me Joel," he smirks. "Happy anniversary, by the way... and thanks for the invite. Sugar said you guys were talking about me earlier today, so she thought she could surprise you by bringing me along with her."

"Joel. Right," your mother mutters to herself. "I was just asking how she was getting along working with you since she's been so busy, she barely comes around now!" She clears her throat, straightening herself, and glances at you, her eyes darting to the tightness of your dress. "Sugar, baby, what a... beautiful dress you have there. Are you not cold with how short it is?"

Joel squeezes your hand in his, giving you a wink. "Doesn't she look stunning in Herve Leger? Lenore has a great eye, right?"

Your mother fidgets nervously, chuckling to herself. "Lenore at Neiman Marcus? Yes, yes, well... she certainly knows how to flatter the female figure. I wasn't aware you were a client of hers-"

"Well, I had to introduce her to Sugar, you know, considering she always takes good care of me and my girls," he muses, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. You could swear you see your mother gulp at the gesture, her gaze dropping to her nails as she struggles to formulate a response.

"Well, what are we doing out here? Come in, come in!" she says suddenly as if her role as a doting, perfect entertaining housewife finally reboots in her brain. "Sugar's father will be surprised to see you after all these years, you made quite a name for yourself with your multi-million business-"

"Yeah, we did okay, I expect that this government job that we're bidding on might just push us over a billion next year if all goes well." He smiles widely, putting his arm around your shoulder. "Shall we, Sugar?"

You nod aimlessly, letting Joel gently guide you towards the dining room, the laughter of your parents' friends echoing through the foyer. Your body starts to shake slightly, the nervousness of facing your father gradually taking over.

"Stop shaking, baby. I'm right here, alright? I ain't gonna leave your side for a second, okay?" Joel whispers suddenly in your ear, pressing a reassuring kiss to your hair. You nod once more, tightening your grasp on Joel's hand, finding comfort in his presence.

"Everyone, you remember my daughter, Sugar?" your mother announces abruptly as you enter the dining room, her gaze immediately meeting your father's as she holds up the bouquet. "Joel bought us a lovely arrangement. I'm just going to find a vase. Why don't you sit by your father, baby?" A wave of judgmental eyes from your parents' friends descends upon both of you, and you can't ignore the audible gasps of shock that fill the suddenly quiet room.

"Joel Miller," your dad suddenly remarks, his eyes narrowing at your clasped hands. "Now, that's a face I didn't expect to see again." His gaze lingers on yours, a subtle twitch in his eye revealing his displeasure as he presses his lips together. "Sugar, care to explain why your boss is gracing us with his presence tonight?"

"Uh-" you stammer, closing your eyes briefly. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Joel."

The sound of glass breaks in the distance, your mother's surprised gasp shortly following, as if she was hovering past the kitchen in an attempt to eavesdrop on the inevitable showdown between your Father and Joel. You see your mother's maid run towards the door, excusing herself as she attempts to help your mother. You see your mother's friend from the club whispering to the man beside her, shaking her head as she links two and two together, a knowing smirk on the man's face as he looks at the both of you.

"I see," your father responds, adjusting his collar to maintain composure. "Well, what's keeping you both standing there? Take a seat!" he commands, a forced smile directed at his friends. Joel moves to the chair beside your father, a playful raise of his eyebrows as he settles in, and you follow suit in the adjacent seat.

"Sir," Joel murmurs, his hand extended for a shake. Your father eyes the offered hand, clearing his throat before accepting it, engaging in a handshake with Joel. "It's been what, ten years?"

"Has it truly been that long? I recall warning you to steer clear of my daughter even then," he retorts wryly, sipping his drink leisurely.

"Honey," your mom interjects shakily, taking her seat beside you, opposite your father. "Our guests might prefer not to dwell on the past-"

"Dad, stop." You say softly, your head cast down. The emotions that you are going through are reminiscent of the emotions you felt when you were a kid, and you find yourself anxiously fiddling with your hands under the table, your bottom lip quivering slightly. "Please stop."

"What was that?" your dad asks menacingly, setting his fork down harshly. "If you have something to say, you might as well look at me! How did I end up with such a weak-minded naive little girl who opens her legs at the first rich old man she can find-"

"That's enough." Joel cuts in suddenly, his fists clenched together tightly, his knuckles white.

As you glance at your mother from the corner of your eyes, you notice a slight tremor at the edge of her mouth. It's at that moment that you realize you share a vulnerable connection with her. Your mother looks just as horrified as you feel, her hands shaking while your father continues his tirade. The tears start to well up at the corners of your eyes, making your vision blurry. It's a tough moment, and you can't help but see a reflection of your own emotions in your mother's eyes.

"Tell me Miller, how long did you wait to seduce my daughter after you hired her at your firm?"

"Honey-" your mother interjects, shifting in her chair uncomfortably. "We have guests-"

"Or how long did you take until you seduced poor Mr. Miller here?" your Father spits, shaking his head in disbelief, his gaze going to your mother's shaking form. "What can I say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

"THATS ENOUGH!" you suddenly scream, slamming your fists on the table. You wipe the tears from your eyes, not caring about the mess it'll make at the makeup that the woman at the Laura Mercier counter meticulously placed upon your face earlier when Joel took you on an impromptu shopping trip for your cocktail dress. "Just stop it, STOP IT!"

Your father rises from his seat, his eyes drunkenly narrowed at you as he points at Joel. "You know, when they were talking about the little slut that was fucking Joel Miller at some dressing room who looked a lot like my daughter, I thought to myself, 'No, it couldn't be my little girl, she should know better', but then I see you in front of me, wearing that," he motions to your dress, "Maybe I misjudged my daughter after all. Congratulations, I guess, you managed to sleep your way to the top, just like your mother-"

"I said THATS ENOUGH!" you scream, rising from your seat, meeting your father's gaze.

"Baby," your mother calls out in near tears. "Just let it go, you know how your father gets when he's drunk-"

But it's like you can't hear her.

"So it's okay for you, a rich man in a powerful position to 'seduce' a young woman, make her your wife, and force her into a life where she plays the doting perfect housewife, never allowed to pursue her dreams, always under your thumb? Is it okay for you to think so poorly of your child, your flesh and blood because I decided to fall in love with someone you don't approve of?" you're full-on crying now, not caring that you have an audience, tired of being that scared little girl who never spoke up, never had a voice of her own.

"I did everything right. I wore the clothes you wanted, stayed away from any scandal, followed the rules, and earned an advanced degree at a decent school—all on my own merit. Only to be reduced to being seen as your 'little girl', unable to stand on my own two feet? Is it so bad that finally, I found someone patient enough to wait for me? Do you have any idea how long I've loved Joel? Only for you to tear us apart? Joel Miller is not like you, Father. He's built himself up from the bottom, proving himself to everyone who doubted him. He works tirelessly, supports his family and friends, and is the best boss anyone could ask for. And most importantly, he loves me, never gave up on me, and worked hard to prove himself. But here's the truth—I would have loved him even without all of this," you motion to the opulent interior, "richer or poorer. He never had to prove himself to me. I love him, and that's all that matters."

You glance down at Joel, who's clearly in shock by your confession. His mouth is agape, but there's awe in his eyes, and you know he's proud of you for standing your ground and finally finding your voice. He clears his throat, taking a sip of wine. "Thank you, baby," he whispers. You nod, wiping away the last of your tears.

Surveying the now silent room, your mother's eyes downcast, and your father staring into the distance from his seat, you offer a smile. "I apologize for the outburst, but I believe Joel and I have overstayed our welcome. I'm sorry for disrupting your dinner, Mom and Dad, but I don't think I belong here anymore." You raise your hand to Joel, who is already two steps behind you, and he rises from his seat, taking your hand in his. "I won't be part of a family that doesn't accept me any longer. Let's go, Joel."

"Sugar, baby, please-" you can hear your mom call out behind you as you lead Joel away from the dining room, determined to get the hell out of there. You hear your father telling your mother to sit down, to just let it go.

"What are we gonna do now, baby?" Joel asks, engulfing you in a hug, and kissing the top of your head as you stand in the foyer.

There's a glint in your eyes as you take his face in your hands, meeting his lips in a kiss.

"Do you want to dish out some sweet fucking revenge?" you ask, your hands traveling down to his bulge in his slacks. "Give my poor father one last parting gift?"

His eyebrows raise in curiosity, groaning as you grab onto his cock harshly. "What did you have in mind, baby?"

"Follow me," you whisper, looking around to make sure no one is around, grabbing his hands as you lead him up the stairs, stopping at the door of your father's study. "Shall we?" you ask, opening the door. Joel nods eagerly, a small smirk on his face as he follows you into the room, closing the door behind him. You start to strip out of your dress, pushing the fabric slowly as Joel watches from behind. You push the fabric off your hips, sliding it from the slopes of your ass until the dress falls onto the ground, only leaving you in the black lace thong you asked Lenore to get you, a surprise for Joel. Joel groans in satisfaction as you lean against your father's desk, a wicked smile on your face.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you breathe, "Are you going to fuck me on my father's desk or not?"

Joel smiles, unbuttoning his shirt. "I thought you would never fucking ask, baby."

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moments-on-film · 10 months

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Moments on Film: Carmy and Sydney’s Michelin Star Talk

This is another one of my favorite scenes between Carmen and Sydney. It’s in S2E2, and they are at his apartment, working on the new menu.

Sydney asks Carmy about the moment he got the 3 Michelin stars call when was the CDC at the restaurant in New York, the highest honor for any restaurant in the world.

What struck me about this scene, apart from the playful banter into this moment, was how Carmy immediately gushes out his answer after Sydney asks him this question. She’s genuinely interested and, literally, a little star struck, and he in turn seems like he’s so unburdened to finally be able to talk to someone about this major moment in his life.

We know that when Carmy was the CDC at Eleven Madison Park, he was horribly abused on a daily basis by his boss, the Executive Chef. Carmy had the completely arduous task of leading the kitchen while under extreme duress, and to such a degree that he was able to retain the highest honor in his industry. The stress of it all we know, made him physically sick, everyday. We also know at this time, Michael wasn’t speaking to him, and it’s unlikely his family understood what he was going through in this moment. He was going through monumental highs and lows, without any support, and completely alone.

He probably has never had the chance to process it or think about it, let alone talk about it.

When Carmy comes home for Christmas in the flashback of S2E6, we see almost everyone, and especially his mom, give him guff and make fun of him for being a “big time chef….too fancy for us.” Carmy was in Copenhagen at the time and not in New York yet, but he’s going through exciting, transformative, life changing moments which no one in his family bothers to ask about or talk to him about. It must have been incredibly painful to not only not be able to share and talk about it, but to be made fun of for it, instead of being told, “good job”, which, as he shares in S1E8, was one thing he wanted to hear from his brother, so badly.

Sydney asks him about his experience because she genuinely wants to listen to him speak about this moment. She doesn’t just ask what it was like, she asks him, “how did it feel?” He immediately pours out his answer in such a way that made me think, my gosh, probably no one has ever asked him about it before. It’s terribly sad that until now no one has cared enough to show interest, and it must have made him feel so lonely to not be able to express himself or what this moment meant to him.

Now Sydney is here though, and she allows him the space in this moment to be vulnerable and heard. His answer perhaps isn’t what she thought it would be, but it’s honest.

Sydney understands the high level of the restaurants where Carmy has worked and what he has achieved professionally, and she admires him for it. She also understands on a much deeper level because he unknowingly fed her while he was the CDC in New York and she was his guest. Sydney’s eaten Carmy’s 3 Michelin star award winning food, and it was the best meal she’s ever had. He just doesn’t know it yet.

In S1E2, when the staff is cleaning the kitchen and Carmy mentions Noma, Marcus says “Noma’s the shit, huh?�� Both Carmy and Sydney say “the best”, at the exact same time.

In terms of being understood, this contrasts starkly with Carmy’s conversation with Claire in another kitchen—the kitchen of the party house in S2E5. She mentions he was in France, he gently corrects her and says Copenhagen. She says, “go to Noma?”, he says, “worked at Noma.” Claire says, “I heard it’s alright” and he responds with “it’s pretty good”. This exchange stuck out to me when I first heard it. Is she sarcastically joking about Noma being just “alright”, or does she not know about its exceptional reputation? Either way she doesn’t ask Carmy any questions about it and then changes the subject.

After Carmy tells Sydney about his Michelin star call and the moment that immediately followed when he had to prepare to serve the U.N. Security Council, his face holds onto the memory of the moment and you can see it felt so good for him to express himself and talk about it. He probably hasn’t thought about it in a long time. He looks reflective and dare I say, proud. He then looks at Sydney, and they smile at each other. It’s quick, but he looks so grateful to her for allowing him to talk about this moment and also that she really, truly listened.

It’s these sweet little moments between the two of them that really make an impact because in these moments, they allow each other to share experiences that only a few people in the world would actually understand. Just like their sign language, the way they understand each other creates a form of communication and expression that is just between them.

I don’t think she realizes it, but Sydney asking Carmy this question, and by genuinely listening to and caring about his answer, she fed and nourished a part of him that had been starved for so long, just like he fed her.

©️moments-on-film 2023

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season 2 #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #syd x carmy #sydcarmy #my thoughts

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zorrasucia · 10 months

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Oral (M and F receiving), Phone sex, Dream sex, P in V sex, a sprinkle of SoftDom!Carmy at Reader's request, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. "I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

It was a foggy day, the cold of Chicago promised a quiet afternoon with few customers. Sydney showed up at the store and invited you to family, saying something about a surprise for Carmy. You quickly closed up and followed her back to the restaurant. Most of the staff knew you by now; Tina cupped your face lovingly, Nat hugged you, and Richie showed you to your seat. Everyone was there except Carmy.

"What's going on?" you asked Nat in a whisper.

"He didn't tell you? Of course he didn't tell you," she rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's his birthday," she said simply.

"Oh!"

You felt a weight settle in your stomach. How could you not know? You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your nervousness and stopping yourself from crying at the same time.

"Oh, sweetie," Nat put her arm around you. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He doesn't tell anyone. The only reason I know is because I'm his sister. We don't do presents or candles or sing because of all the- Well, you know," she gestured vaguely. You nodded.

You didn't know the whole story but Carmy had let you know bits and pieces of his unstable childhood and the fraught relationship with his Mom, from way before Mike died.

"But Syd wanted to cook something nice for him and Marcus wanted to test a cake recipe, so," she shrugged. You managed a smile. "He'll be happy to see you," she squeezed you to her side.

"Okay, everyone start eating and act fucking normal," Richie bellowed. "We don't want the birthday boy to feel ambushed or whatever. We're having a nice meal, with our neighbor, and there's a random ass cake here for absolutely no reason, okay?"

"Your ass is random, man!" Marcus replied from the other side of the table, cutting slices of what looked like tres leches cake. Fak chuckled between forkfuls of salad.

Sydney had already started passing plates around, it was lamb and salad and it smelled delicious.

"Thanks for inviting me," you told her once she got to you.

"I mean, you're practically family, right?" she smiled.

By the time Carmy appeared, you were all eating and talking, and he could sneak in and sit by your side almost unnoticed.

"What's all this?" he asked, looking frantically around the room.

"They asked me to come over for family," you smiled innocently. "It's very good," you added pointing at your plate.

"No, I mean-" he hesitated, his eyes kept searching for Nat. She was leaning against the door frame and when she saw Carmy, she put her fingers to the corners of her lips and pushed them up, to shape a smile. 'Be happy, okay?' she mouthed.

Carmy nodded, then looked down, a relieved smirk curving his lips. He tried to relax, leaning back on his seat and placing an arm behind your chair. He took the plate Richie brought him and started eating with gusto.

"So, you know?" he asked after a while.

"No presents, no candles, no singing," you repeated, knowing it would calm his anxiety a little. "I want to make a suggestion though."

Carmy turned his head quickly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled mischievously. "I think this cake should be like a staple at the restaurant. No way I'm waiting for your next birthday to have it again."

Carmy laughed. After his first bite of the cake he had to agree. "That's fire," he hummed.

His face looked bright and lovely. Your hand didn't leave his thigh for the rest of the meal.

You leaned against Carmy's side; he kissed the top of your head and sighed, burying the two of you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. It had been a beautiful day. With his arms around you, you asked him.

"Why don't you like presents on your birthday?"

"Uh- I'm not sure," he replied honestly. His fingers drew pretty shapes on your shoulder. "I guess if you're not expecting anything then you can't be disappointed, right?"

"I get that," you said after a while. "I just think it's a waste that I sell vintage, and you love vintage, and you don't ask for presents, you know?" you added playfully.

He smiled. "I guess. I think I like it better when it's on a random day, for no reason at all."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Can I do something nice for you, though? Just because I want to, not because it's your birthday," you clarified.

He turned to face you. "Uh- Okay."

You disentangled from his embrace and knelt between his legs on the floor . He tilted his head in confusion. You smiled and grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, making a show of putting your hair in a ponytail. Carmy's eyes widened when your hands ran up and down his thighs, slow, sensual motions that sent shivers up his spine.

"You don't have to-" he started protesting.

"I want to," you said.

It had come up a couple of times. You'd offer to reciprocate after he'd eaten you out and he would refuse, saying he would rather be inside you. With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff.

"I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

He seemed torn, one of his hands reaching to caress yours.

"You're absolutely free to say no. There's other ways we can have fun but don't say no just because you feel you don't deserve it, Carm. You do. I promise," you said earnestly.

He bent over to kiss you fiercely. "Alright. Yes. Please," he said.

You moved slowly, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more erratic. You pulled his trousers down, towards you, and started touching his thighs gently, raking your fingers through the coarse hair that went down his stomach, palming at the growing bulge over his boxers.

"Uh-" Carmy swallowed. "I have never- So if I don't last just-"

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "Listen, if you last five seconds but you enjoy it, then I'm happy."

He laughed at that and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll aim for six then," he quipped.

You removed his boxers carefully, his cock was already hard. He groaned when your breath touched his bare skin. You suspected he was right, he wasn't going to last, so you tried to make it worth his while.

You started by kissing his head, licking the drop of precum in a quick flick of your tongue. It made him shudder with pleasure - and it made you feel powerful, the effect you had on him.

"Let me know if there's something you don't like," you said, your right hand closing loosely around his shaft. He nodded. He was hardly moving and his hands were fisting the cushions of the sofa. "You need to breathe, Carm," you reminded him, your voice had turned husky. You took one of his hands and placed it on your head, his fingers intertwined around your ponytail and you heard him exhale. "Good."

You leaned forward again, kissing around his head, making the kisses open mouthed as you went, letting him get accustomed to the feeling of your lips on him. Your hand started pumping his length, softly, no rhythm to it yet, more a caress than anything.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he rasped, his hand holding tighter to your hair, loosening the ponytail when he massaged your scalp. You moaned against his skin, which made him writhe his hips in return.

You opened your mouth, taking the first couple of inches of him. You couldn't deep throat, but he didn't seem to mind- your hand was pumping and making up for the rest of his length. He moaned and it made your pussy tingle.

"You sound so pretty, Carmy," you praised. He chuckled, out of breath.

You licked the length of his shaft, wetting it enough to help your hand glide easier. You took him again, a little deeper this time, not far enough to make you gag, just enough that he threw his head back in pleasure, the veins of his neck visibly pulsing and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried in vain to breathe normally. It was all quick gasps and the occasional groan. That was enough teasing, you decided.

You started going back and forth, the rhythm of your mouth echoed with your right hand, the left rested on his knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding tight.

"Please, don't- don't stop," he begged. His face was downwards now, looking you straight in the eye, his pupils were blown and his mouth hung open. "It feels so fucking good. Please, please..."

You sped up, hollowing out your cheeks, moving your left hand so that you were sinking your nails into the muscle of his tattooed forearm. Your underwear was wet with arousal and the sounds he made weren't helping, you pressed your thighs together to get some relief and ended up moaning on his cock.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna-"

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, every muscle in his body growing tense. He groaned over and over, going quieter each time, letting go completely. Salt covered your tongue in spurts and you did your best to swallow most of it, a little bit of it fell down the corner of your mouth. You slowed down, pumping him until he pulled you off his softening cock, mumbling something about "so good" and "too much". His hand let go of your hair and cupped your face, his eyes were glazed over and blissed out, a loving look to his sweaty face.

"So fucking good," he managed to say in an exhale. His thumb cleaned the drop of cum off your chin - so carefully, so gently that it warmed your insides. "You're beautiful."

You laughed in disbelief but then you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he emerged from in between your thighs, half of his face completely wet, a turned on blush on his cheeks...

He pulled you up on his lap and kissed you senseless, his tongue caressing your tired lips, humming contentedly into you. You were both a mess: him naked from the waist down, you with your hair completely undone and your underwear soaked.

"Best birthday I've ever had," he said against your lips, his forehead to yours. "Thank you."

You smiled. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Carmy."

You had slowly gotten used to sleeping in a bed that smelled like Carmy. Whether it was at your place or his, even if the sheets on his side were cold they still had a hint of salt, smoke, and his expensive aftershave.

"Get a fucking grip," you reprimanded yourself in a low voice.

Call me when you get home?

You sent the text before you could chicken out. He wouldn't leave the restaurant for another hour or so, so you settled on the hotel room bed, the unfamiliar cream colored covers suffocating, the sound of a movie on the TV only making you more antsy.

When the phone rang, it was a little before midnight. You were comfortable and warm - and completely awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Carmy's voice sounded raspy on the phone.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just- I couldn't sleep and-" you chuckled without a hint of humor. It felt silly: it was an overnight trip, you were staying at a nice hotel, and you couldn't sleep because Carmy wasn't there. It was so fucking silly. "Never mind. I'm okay, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Hey!" Carmy stopped you from hanging up. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"Fuck," you looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. Nothing bad happened. Actually, the estate sale went great. Uh. This lady had a big collection of dresses, fifties and sixties, beautiful pieces. And shoes! Just tons of them, barely used, Gucci and shit."

"And you got them?" Carmy asked, you could almost hear him frowning.

"Yeah! It's all good stuff and I think it will sell well too."

"That's good," he said, his tone soothing. "So, what's wrong?"

"Uh- I don't know," you repeated. "I came back to the hotel and it was so- just so fucking quiet and it feels wrong, you know?"

Carmy hummed in agreement.

"I get it," he said after a beat. "When I got here, uh, the apartment was very fucking quiet too. Creeped me out a bit."

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't so silly.

"It helps, though," you said after a beat. "Talking with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "How was your day?"

"It was absolute shit," he replied.

"Too bad I'm not there to fuck about it," you said.

Sometimes, when Carmy's day was too bad to even talk about, you would fuck - hard and fast - and then talk about it. Hence, fuck about it.

Carmy chuckled. "Yeah," you could hear him exhale as he fell heavily on the couch or the bed. "That would actually help a lot."

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach flip a little. "Um, Carm?"

"Mmm?"

"I know you said you hadn't been with anyone before me-" you prompted. "Does that mean you never had phone sex either?"

He coughed loudly on the other side of the line. You pictured him choking on his own cigarette smoke, a deep blush to his cheeks.

"Sorry?" he asked after a moment.

"I mean that we can still fuck about it... If you want," you offered. "You know, you can say what you would like to do to me, or maybe tell me what I should do... That sort of thing."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I do- I'd like to try but I- I'm not good at playing pretend, you know? Never been, not even as a kid."

"If I do the talking? Would that be better?"

"Maybe?" his voice sounded ragged but not just from coughing.

"I've never, uh, taken the lead before but that would, like, even out the playing field, right?" you reasoned, your heart beating faster.

"What- what would that be like?"

"I could tell you about the nice pajamas I'm wearing," you lowered your voice. "The blue ones?"

"With the shorts and the little bows?" Carmy asked. "You look good in those..."

You opened your legs, your free hand playing with the elastic of your shorts.

"I wish you would take them off for me, Carm. I wish you would touch me like only you know how. I want your fingers inside me," he cleared his throat on the other side of the line. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes," his voice was breathy, "I would, yes."

"I want you to do something for me, Carmy," you started teasing between your legs over the fabric of your shorts. "Remember when we first fucked? You closed your eyes and touched yourself to get hard again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah," you could barely hear his intake of breath and it still made you shiver.

"You looked so fucking hot, I still think about it when I finger myself," you confessed. You could picture him clearly, the veins of his arms and neck bulging, his head thrown back.

"Shit..." he rasped.

"Can you hold the phone close, Carm? I want to hear you while you touch your cock."

"I want to hear you too... Ah, fuck!"

The sound made you curl your toes with anticipation. You got your hand inside your underwear and traced lines on your folds, caressing slowly.

"I'm already so wet," you said. "Are you hard for me, Carmy?"

"So fucking hard," he drawled and you moaned.

"What would you like me to do?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "If I was there, Carm, what would you like me to do?"

"Ri- Ride me," he managed.

His breathing was a quick staccato that made your hand pick up speed, spreading wetness around your clit. You sat up on the bed, imagined Carmy underneath you, holding tight to your hips, your hands on his sculpted chest.

"How? How do you want me to- oh, God- ride you?"

"Just- hard," he groaned but it was a muffled sound, he was holding back.

"Carm..."

"I want you to fucking wreck me," he blurted out.

If he felt like he had fucked up, like he had done something terribly wrong at the restaurant, he liked it to hurt a little, you knew that by now. Maybe the rhythm was punishing, maybe it was way too fast, maybe you denied him his orgasm for a while. Anyway, he was atoning.

"I want you to touch you like I would, Carmy," you said. "Can you do that for me? Put lube on your hand, hold your cock tight, and go as fast as you can, okay?"

"Yes," it was barely a whisper. But suddenly you could listen - deep growls from way within his chest, rhythmic gasps that grew quicker and quicker. You struggled to catch up with him, your middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with his sounds.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "I can hear it. Jesus Christ."

"It's not the same without you, Carm," you said honestly. Your hand was wet to the palm but you still wanted that fullness only he could make you feel. "I need you inside me, I need you."

"Oh, fuck!"

He got quiet for a second, then groaned a few times, your pussy clenching while he did. You were so close. He sighed into the speaker, relieved and spent - you wanted to be happy for him but you were still on the edge and desperate for release. You kept moaning.

"Have you come?" Carmy asked.

"Not yet," you managed to say.

"Shit."

"I'm close though. Just stay on the line, please."

You could feel it slipping out of your grasp. It wasn't enough to have him listen, you needed something to hold on to. You let out a needy whine.

He read your mind, and in that fucked out voice he said: "That was- holy shit- that was so, so fucking hot. You made me come and you didn't even touch me," you fluttered against your fingers. "Can’t believe you're mine. You're my good girl."

He had never called you that. That was it. The tension within you snapped and you could breathe again. Eyes shut and forehead to the duvet, you could almost feel Carmy's hands touching up your back, tickling at your sides. You let out a shaky laugh.

"Fuck, Carmy. Fuck," you repeated, something warm settling in your belly.

"You okay?" he said. You had dropped the phone and you heard him far away.

You wiped your hand on your hip and settled back on the bed, tired and a little sweaty. You'd have to shower again in the morning but you found you didn't care right now.

"I'm okay," you replied when you could pick up your phone. "So okay. You?"

"So okay," he repeated with a chuckle.

"Okay," you let out a big exhale. "Now tell me about your day."

You were at The Bear, it was late at night, the lights were dimmed down and there were no patrons. You turned around and found the place empty - ghostly and quiet.

"Hello?" No one replied.

Now that you thought of it, you didn't know how you got there - couldn't remember, actually. But Carmy was suddenly there too, hands on his hips, wearing his pristine chef's whites. The blue of his eyes popped with the ambience lighting in a way that felt supernatural.

"Carmy," you called but he didn't move.

"On the table," he said brusquely, pointing with his head at the only piece of furniture left in the restaurant. There was no tablecloth or cutlery on it.

"What?" you asked.

"On the fucking table!" he yelled and you obeyed, sitting quickly on it, facing him.

"What's going on?" you asked.

He laughed - it wasn't his usual laugh, soft and floaty - it was a cruel sound, glass like.

"What's going on, sweetheart, is that I'm going to fuck you, on this table, until you come three times," he said and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Or until you beg me to stop, whatever happens first."

You didn't say a word, you couldn't: he kissed you violently, biting on your lip and grabbing your throat.

"Carmy, holy shit! Slow down," you pleaded when you parted to catch your breath.

He stopped but only to spread your legs wide open, his fingers digging into your thighs forcefully, then going up your skirt. He leaned to whisper in your ear:

"You sure you want that?"

His voice was low, caramel like, delicious. You ran a hand up his chest, fisting white fabric, bringing him closer.

"Good," he said. His fingers shoved your underwear to the side and teased mercilessly.

"Fuuuck," you whined as he made you melt in his hands.

He was touching you just right, having you soaked and pliant so fast it left you dizzy. He thrust two fingers inside you and started pumping fast, his thumb circling your clit - you thanked your stars that you had showed him early on where it was. Your moans grew louder and longer.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he asked but it sounded like an order.

You nodded frantically.

"Are you gonna let me bend you over this table, fuck your pussy as hard as I want?"

"Yes, please, fuck," you whined.

Just before the knot within you could unravel, the bright light of morning rushed through the window and made you squeeze your eyes and cover your face. And suddenly you weren't at The Bear, you were at Carmy's place, warm in his bed. It was Sunday, you remembered.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled.

Carmy was right next to you, twisting to face you as he woke up too.

The mornings you shared were few and far between, the occasional day off, the days when you had to get up early to take a train for a sale out of town... They were precious, you loved to see Carmy with sleepy eyes, reaching out for you from under the covers. You smiled and stared at him.

"Morning," you said, feeling a little weird about your dream.

"Mornin'," he slurred with his eyes closed. "You sleep okay?"

"Uh-huh," you tried to sound casual. "You?"

"Yeah," you let him pull you in closer, his nose brushed the side of your neck. And his hard on brushed your thigh.

"Oh!" your heart raced - the one thing that still remained from your dream was the wetness between your legs.

"Shit," Carmy covered his face with his hand. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."

You cleared your throat nervously. "Actually-"

You didn't know where to begin so you simply grabbed his hand and showed him how wet you were, even through your underwear he could tell. His eyes widened.

"Wh- What- Why?"

"Uh, I dreamt of you," you said simply.

"What about?" he asked. You shrugged. "I mean, if you liked whatever happened in your dream that much, we could..." he let the offer float. He had that curious look about him.

You bit your lip. It had been good, so good. But it made you feel a little embarrassed about the things that you wanted, what they meant about you.

"We were- Well, you fingered me and- yeah," you hoped he would be satisfied with that.

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed but he obliged. "Sure, we can do that."

He scooted closer still, his hand and the way he moved was gentle and sweet. And completely wrong. You took his wrist and stopped him.

Carmy looked up in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'll- I'll tell you about my dream but promise me you won't laugh," you pressed your hands on his chest. He nodded solemnly. "Even if we don't end up doing it because it's not your thing just- Don't laugh, okay?"

"I won't," he promised.

"Okay," you took a deep inhale. "So I dreamt that we were at the restaurant. We were all alone, it was late at night and you- Well, you told me to get on a table and that you would make me come three times," you blushed furiously. "You kissed me and you fingered me. You said you would bend me over on the table and fuck me hard. And then I woke up."

"Shit," Carmy said.

"Yeah."

"Was I- Was I different?" he asked.

"You were a little mean."

"And you were into it?" nothing about his tone betrayed disgust or revulsion.

"I didn't think I would be, but yeah," you replied honestly.

Carmy ran a hand through his hair and stared at you for a little bit.

"You know I'm not good at the pretending thing," he said and you nodded. "But I think I can fuck you on the table until you come three times."

You felt like you had the wind knocked out of you.

Before you knew it, you were both naked, kissing in the middle of his kitchen, his hands under your thighs as he placed you on the table.

"I'm gonna need you to keep count for me," he said, lowering to his knees between your legs. That was the last thing he said before devouring you.

You knew Carmy was competitive but you didn't know it would extend to a dream version of him. He became laser focused: his only goal was to be a better lover than dream Carmy, make you come undone faster and harder than he ever could. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers inside you, curling non-stop, making you gasp for air. His mouth worked tirelessly licking and sucking at your clit, getting satisfaction every time you pulled at his hair. In minutes, he had you bucking your hips frantically, trying to fuck his face. You screamed and heaved and cursed, grabbing to the edge of the table for dear life.

"How many?" he demanded once he got up from between your legs, wiping his face clean with his forearm. His voice sounded rough and you could see a glimpse of the cut-throat chef he used to be back in New York. You felt the aftershocks of your orgasm go through you one more time.

"One," you replied.

He grabbed your hips and brought you down from the table, then flipped you over. You heard the condom wrapper hit the floor, then, immediately felt his breath on the back of your neck as he lined up his cock to your pussy. He wasn't careful before and he wasn't careful now, going all the way inside you in a swift motion. It was pleasure and pain in even measures, it was exactly what you asked for. Your knees trembled underneath you but Carmy held you upright.

"Holy shit," was all you could say before succumbing to the rhythm of his hips against yours.

It was slow, purposeful. One of his hands played with your nipples while the other pressed on your clit. It was too much. You took the hand on your clit and placed it on your neck instead, remembering the way Carmy had kissed you in the dream, holding you possessively. Your Carmy didn't press at all, he caressed the column of your throat with careful fingers, kissed the side of it with devotion. It made you melt onto the tabletop. The feeling of your bare chest on the wooden surface and the sound of his hips clapping against yours turned you on even more. It took you by surprise when you started fluttering on Carmy's cock, your release almost gentle, a series of soft needy moans the only outer indication that you had come.

When you regained your bearings, your cheek to the table and your ass up in the air, you said with an unsteady voice:

"Two."

One of his hands soothed down your spine, a silent question being asked: Do you still want to go on? Can you do one more? You reached for his hand and squeezed it, using the strength you had left to get off the table and turn to face Carmy. He was a sweaty mess, curls falling on his forehead, red in the face from edging his orgasm to give you three. You didn't think you could love anyone more than you loved him right then.

"Carmy."

"I'm here. I'm right here," he maneuvered you gently to lay on your back over the table, his eyes on yours. You hummed contentedly. He lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder and giving you a shy smile - you realized he had actually read the sex book you had bought him as a joke. You giggled. He didn't do anything in half measures.

This time, his motions weren't calculated and cold. The tenderness when he soothed your back and caressed your neck had bled into everything else. His hips stuttered every now and then, his fingers touched your ankles gently, and his eyes were fixed on you. It was perfect.

"I'm close," you whispered, one of your hands playing with your chest, the other reaching behind you to the edge of the table. You felt weightless. "You can let go, Carmy."

It was all a blur: the swirl of electricity down your body, the beautiful sounds that you made together, and the feeling of him falling on top of you.

"Shit! I'm sorry I'm crushing you," he mumbled on your skin, his arms flexing as he lifted himself up. You looked up at him and cupped his face, the post-coital glow and the morning light making him look angelic.

"Thank you," you said and he smiled. "It was good, better than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Right then, your stomach growled audibly. You covered your face with your hands, mortified. He peeled them off and leaned to nuzzle against your cheek.

"Pancakes?" he offered in a whisper.

You laughed and turned your head to kiss the tip of his nose. "Yes. Please."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 4]

#still not done with this apparently #soon the virgin!carmy tag will be completely obsolete and it makes me a little sad #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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1-800-local-slut · 10 months

Note

rio getting to know shy reader but realizing she far from that now that’s she’s getting comfortable with him.

-🪡

He's Right

I hope you like this! I made it hella suggestive at the end. Please let me know what you think! I just started this show Rio is literally my baby daddy but I'm only like four episodes in so I'm if it's too out of character.

Likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

Pairing: Rio (good girls) x shy! black! reader

Warnings: cheating, mentions of traumatic past, cursing, suggestiveness at the end, reader has a boyfriend

I need him in a way that isn't natural, I need him in my draws NOW.

______________________________________________________________

"Can I help you with anything sir?" Rio glanced up, his sharp eyes leaving the book he was examining. The Lord of the Flies or some shit. He was sure he read it in school. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the woman standing before him. His eyes flicked to her neckline, seeing the star shaped necklace around her chest. That right there was perfect, telling him everything he needed to know about her relation to his target.

The woman was the younger sister of King Jericho. Otherwise known as some lame ass pimp who made the mistake of stealing from Rio. And no one steals from him and gets aways with it.

He still remembers how he was sitting with Marcus in a McDonald's drive through. Marcus was eating chicken nuggets, getting barbecue sauce and shit all over his mouth. Rio was telling him to take it easy, then he heard chiming. His phone rang, and Mick told him that their man went ghost. And when they couldn't find him, that meant they couldn't find Rio's money. And THAT was a problem.

So to make a long story short, Rio had to go the long way and go to his family. Mom sent him and Mick packing, dads dead. Only person left was his sister. And that led him to the gorgeous brown skinned woman before him.

"Of course you can, mama. I need help, I'm looking for King." His eyes scanned over her entire body, looking for something, anything, that could get him some help. Her brown eyes, and long eyelashes blinked at him but they didn't show fear or recognition. Instead she stared patiently waiting for him to continue. Nothing, time to try something else.

"Is that a series? Or an author? Do you know the genre?" Trying her best to do her job, he watched her reach into her side for her walkie talkie. So she didn't know about the King part, time to check if she knew about Jericho.

"Nah, it's none of that. I'm looking for Jericho." And there it was. The second the words left his voice in his usual charming manner her eyes filled with panic. Goosebumps appeared on her brown skin and one of her hands flew to her hair. He noticed for the first time that it must be a wig, black hair was in waves down her body and parted down her middle. For some reason her shiny hair was oddly enticing to him. Her teeth sunk into her plump, glossy lips and Rio's eyes flickered over them.

"Like...from the Bible?" Her soft voice was like music to his ears. If only that sentence wasn’t so stupid.

"...The Bible." He repeated while narrowing his eyes. Either he was being played for stupid,which was not a smart thing to do or she was stupid. He wanted to believe the woman he just found attractive even for a moment wasn’t an idiot.

“Nah girl. I think you know what I’m talking about.” Placing the book that was still in his hands on the table behind him. Her chest was heaving quickly and she was clearly beginning to panic. Rio moved his eyes up to Mick, who was looking at a cookbook with Snoop Dogg on the cover. With a wave of his two fingers, Mick began to intercept her escape.

“I don't, I'm sorry. I don’t think I can help you, maybe you should check somewhere else.” Slowly turning on her heels, she walked head first into Mick. His solid chest stopped her, and nudged her glasses further up on her face. Stepping back she softly groaned and readjusted her lenses.

“Now, this looks like an interesting book. Can you tell me what it’s about?” Rio asked, sitting down and Mick led her to put her plump behind, that Rio noticed when he saw her through the shop's window. She nervously took a seat. While clenching and unclenching her hands on her skirt, Rio watched her with observant eyes. With a glance, he motioned to the book attempting to get her to tell him the truth. With a shaky breath one of her manicured hands reached for the book.

“It’s Lord of the Flies. It revolves around this group of British boys who are stranded on an uninhabited island and try to govern themselves. Things go bad really really fast.” Her brown eyes met him once more and he smirked. In response, she looked down at the table and snuck two looks at him.

“Oh nice nice, it got a nice ending n shit?” With a swift nod, he hummed. He kept his eyes trained on the golden star dangling from her chest, probably bought with Rio’s money.

“Alright, here’s the deal. Your brother’s a bitch. He stole from me and ran out, and I need to find him. And I need you to tell me where he is.” She swallowed thickly.

“And who exactly would you be?”

“My name ain’t important moma. Just know, I know you. I know your mom, I know your auntie and your grandma, I know your boyfriend too. You mom is vicious, she sent my ass packing and told me to try you next.” Her eyes got wider and wider with each sentence. He’d probably be shocked too if his own mom sold him out. Her brother had always been trouble for her. At least that’s what he gathered. She’s had to get him out of trouble more than once. Mostly out of trouble with men, going on dates and what not for his sake. No way they weren’t talking any more.

“Look, I don’t know anything about my brother. I haven’t talked to him in like 3 years! I can’t help you. Whatever debt he’s got with you, I can’t settle it.” With a scoff and a sigh, Rio rolled his eyes lightly. Her eyes went wide at his laughter, her finger digging into her nails. She was afraid of him. He didn’t like that, but that brother of hers seems to have gotten her involved with a lot over the past few years.

“Relax, ma I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just need you to tell me where he is.” Her head shook quickly, her hair flying around wildly. She was still denying contact.

“That’s a nice necklace. You enjoying 21?” Her face went stiff. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, her glossy lips parting. Then they shut quickly as he saw tears well up in her eyes. He was right. The necklace was sent to her apartment by her brother exactly one week ago for her 21st birthday.

“I can’t help you. I don’t know where he is, this didn’t have a return address. It came in an Amazon bag! I mean, if I could I’d help you but I can’t do anything for you gentlemen.” She was trembling in her seat, and two tears escaped her eyes. But if she could receive something from him, she could learn exactly where he was. And given he had no leads, he had to settle for asking her to find out for him.

She was crying like he had threatened her, and he partially imagined what type of people she had been around to warrant a reaction like this.

“Look ma, I just need you to stop crying. Can you do that?” He asked and she nodded, wiping tears from her face.

“I can’t just let you go though. Your brother sent you something and I need you to find out where he sent it from. That’s it. Tell you what, put this book on hold for me. Imma be back tomorrow, with enough to pay for it. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I just need you to learn this for me.” He slid out of his seat, leaving the trembling woman there and she placed her face in her palms in dismay.

______________________________________________________________

“Shit! What the fuck Rio?! You just break into my fucking house, you couldn't give me a phone call?” Growled the woman in a slightly drunken anger. She turned on the lights next to the door and kicked off her heeled shoes. His eyes looked up and down her curved figure and she glared at him. Rio let out a laugh and his head lolled back on his shoulders. He was sitting on the back of her couch, petting her black cat who purred gently. Rio already found out that her cat adored anyone who fed her.

“Well yeah baby. We still haven’t found your punk ass brother.” Her eyes rolled hard into her head, and she threw her purse down and came around to the couch. Plopping down on her couch, Rio looked over at her soft skin covered by her golden dress.

It had been about two months. Two months since Rio went into the bookstore she worked at. Two months after the third day he entered the shop and she informed him that she found him. Then when he got there and found Jericho skipped out once again. And from there, something about her kept Rio coming back to bother the shy woman. Except she wasn't what he thought at first.

The woman slouched on the couch right next to him was vulgar, loud and proud, abrasive and more. She cursed at him, cursed out the TV, cursed out her mother and grandmother and boyfriend. She cursed out Rio. She was perfect for him. She was nice to him, despite their off putting first meeting. She put him in his place when she felt he needed it. She wasn’t afraid to tell him to shut his goofy ass up in her exact words. But still, sometimes he’d look at her and she looked just about ready to fold for him. And Rio liked that shit.

Now in a golden mini dress that she wore, with body glitter all over her breast was enticing Rio. She smelt like a mix of vanilla and a bar. In truth, if she could find her brother for him he didn’t care anymore. He could find him on his own with the clues they found at his last known location. In fact, soon enough they’d get their final location. He just liked bothering her. And it wasn’t like she was even bothering to look for him anymore. Last he asked she told him to suck her dick, she wouldn’t be searching for shit.

“What’s wrong baby, you have a shitty night?” He asked, taking one of his large hands and cupping her face. He noticed her thighs pressed together with intense pressure. A smirk came across his face, and ran a thumb over her stained lips. She leaned into his touch and he waited for his answer.

“My boyfriends being a cunt again.” She sighed and her cat jumped into her lap, patting his paws on her soft thighs. Rio wanted to do that too, boyfriend be damned.

“Oh yeah?” He asked his hand itching down to her neck and his pinky scraping over the chain of that star necklace. That same necklace that pushed them to meet. Her eyes stayed glued to his, as she glanced up at him with wide eyes.

“He’s going on about not trusting my friendship with you. Then he told me to get the fuck on, since I didnt want to dance at the club. He was like ‘oh you rather dance with that other nigga?’ and I was like ‘he’s not a fucking pussy, he could probably dance better than you’ so he told me to fuck off and I left him and told him not to come home tonight. You’re the other nigga in question. The niggas trippin, he keep bitching about it. He says he knows you wanna fuck me. He’s being a bitch, it’s making me want to cheat on him.” Suddenly he smirked at her. She raised an eyebrow, still feeling the heat of his hand on her throat and rubbing her thighs together.

“And what if I told you he was right?” His hand was now lightly around her throat, and he brushed pieces of her curly afro out of her face with his free hand. Slowly she began to process his words. Then a wicked smile crossed her face and she licked her lips.

“You should do something about that then.” Her voice now low and seductive, as he saw sparks of mischief in her eyes. He leaned in and pressed his lips against her soft ones. They pulled away for a moment and he lightly squeezed her throat harder. Licking his lips, he tasted the liquor and her strawberry lipgloss.

“I’m about to show you what else I’m better than his ass at.”

#good girls nbc #manny montana #rio good girls fanfiction #nbc good girls #beth boland #annie marks #ruby hill #rio x reader #x black reader #black reader #shy reader

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angelzdaydream · 1 year

Text

he's obsessed with you | Marcus Baker

plot: Marcus and reader have been in a secret relationship and they have been hiding it well from Max, but when she finds out she laughs because she knew he was obsessed with you.

requested by: @xtom-darling-x17

warnings: slight smut but no details

Marcus sneaking through your window at night had become a habit for the past few months, but on this particular night you decided you'd be the one doing the sneaking.

You took extra caution to be quiet not wanting to draw attention to yourself as you shimmied your way up the house and into the Baker household. As much as you didn't want his parents catching you, the thought of his sister Max who just so happened to be your best friend was much worse.

You smiled at the sight of your boyfriend sleeping soundly in his bed, his sketchbook sprawled against his chest and he pencil he was still in his hand.

You walk over to him, carefully grabbing the pencil out of his hand and the sketchbook to put it away. You go to close the sketchbook but before you could the drawling he was working on catches your eye. Your heart begins to flutter when you realize it was of you.

Marcus stirring in his sleep snatches your attention away from the drawling and you close the sketchbook before placing it on his nightstand.

"This is different. Normally I'm the one doing the breaking and entering." Marcus's voice startles you a bit.

"Figured you shouldn't be the only criminal in the relationship." you grin before leaning down with the intentions of kissing him gently, but the moment your lips touch, he's pulls you on top of him making you gasp at the sudden motion. Marcus uses this to his advantage as he slides his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The moment you pull away for a breath of air, Marcus's lips are against your neck sucking and pressing needy kisses against your skin. "You drew me." You moan shakily.

"I did." Marcus replies before sucking on the sweet spot on your neck making your eyes roll back. "How about you be my muse again and give me something else to draw of you?"

"Please." you beg, already so needy for him and before you know it, Marcus is detaching himself from your neck and flipping the two of you around so he's on top.

His lips crash against yours as he grinds his hips against yours, causing the both of you to moan. Both of you were too consumed by each other that you both failed to hear his door open.

"Mom wants to know what you want for dinner- y/n? Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, my eyes!" Max screeched before slamming his door closed and running off.

All you can do at first is look at Marcus in horror. "Shit! How mad do you think she is?"

"She didn't try to kill me so maybe not as mad as we expected her to be." Marcus replies sitting up off of you.

"I'm going to go talk to her." you stand up off his bed fixing your hair and clothes.

"You want me to come with?" he asks reaching for your hand and kissing it reassuringly.

You shake your head no. "I think I should go alone in case she's super pissed. You being there might make it worse."

He nods his head in understanding before you make your way to Maxines room.

You knock on her door, and it doesn't take long before she tells you to come in. You quickly do, shutting the door behind you but never moving from in front of it. You look up at Maxine who is already looking at you. The two of you go a moment without speaking when all of a sudden Max burst into a fit of laughter.

You stare at her wide eyed, unsure if she was so pissed it was coming out as laughter or if it was for another reason. You really hoped she wouldn't make such a big deal out of it, you loved and cared about both Marcus and Max in different ways and you never wanted to hurt either of them.

It goes on for a few minutes before her laughter finally dies down. "I'm not mad." Max speaks after catching her breath.

"You're not?" you question, gaining the courage to move away from the door to sit next to her on the bed.

"I mean it hurts a little that you didn't tell me, but I figured something was going on between the two of you and that you'd tell me when you were ready. I've seen the way you two make googly eyes at each other and honestly, I've never seen him as happy as he is with you. He cares about you a lot, it's disgusting really. Not as disgusting as what I just seen though." Max scrunches her nose up in disgust.

You giggle. "Sorry about that."

"As you should be, I'm scarred for life." she says before giggling too and pulling you into a side hug.

A weight feels like it had been lifted off your shoulders now that you and Marcus no longer had to hide your relationship from her and that Marcus cared as much about you as you did him.

idk about the ending but hope you guys liked it <3 feel free to send me request!

#marcus baker #marcus baker x reader #ginny and marcus #ginny and georgia #marcus baker imagine #marcus baker x you #marcus baker smut #marcus baker x y/n

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greenxgloss · 2 months

Text

Marcus HCs (Swarm) NSFW

A/N: so i noticed a lot of what people were saying about Marcus honestly didn't make sense to me. like a lot of them I can definitely agree with but idk I thought i'd put my two cents

okay, so i can't decide if marcus gets hookups often or if he's a once-a-year-get-down type of incel but regardless he's good at what he does.

he always wants more than a one-night stand

he's a total sex god. like the only thing he doesn't do is let you peg him but he's a switch and an experimentalist so he'll let you dom

he's not insecure in his size or height for this reason he knows he can make you cum with his mouth, hands and toys. he's sex-positive and educated in the world of sex toys.

he is amazing at aftercare. he'll clean you up and cuddle you. he'll only fall asleep after you and make sure you're okay. the next morning makes you breakfast and if it is your first time meeting he'll make conversation to get to know you and even drive you home or to work

hes an ass man 100% (this pains me to say because I don't have an ass but its so true)

he loves all body types and all types of men and women but has a strong preference for poc people. thinks they're absolutely beautiful

he loves walking around naked and goes to nude beaches but this specifically isn't sexual he just likes being naked and feeling free that way

he loves philosophy but in a good way and reads a whole lot of philosophical books and practices existentialism

he loves spirituality and manifesting

he's usually very clean, doesn't even get into bed with outside clothes

this man is romantic and corny as fuck oh yeah candles and rose pedals oh yeah and the dim lighting and classical music

he loved school as a kid and participated in all the sports and school events

loves his mom and buys her flowers on all holidays

loves baking more than cooking but hopes he can meet someone that will cook for him so he can bake for them

loves parties and going to the club just wishes he could dance better.

lana del rey and taylor swift are his guilty pleasures as a cis man

other than that loves rock music like kiss and the rolling stones

loves going all out on Halloween

loves being part of girl talk with his girl-friends and also calls them his girl-friends to other people

he loves nature

#fanfic #rory culkin #me when rory #i ❤ rory culkin #i ❤️ rory culkin #marcus swarm #marcus headcannons #clyde electrick children #rory x reader #rory culkin fanfic #marcus x reader #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin characters #rory culkin makeup #rory culkin smut

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rustboxstarr · 11 months

Text

🏖Grown Ups🏖 part 1

Summary: You've been pulling away from Eddie recently its not until summer vacation that you finally find your way back to him.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Mom!Reader

Warnings: Holy hell prepare yourself -> worrying about R potentially cheating, angst, talk of sex, slightly derogatory talk of sex, Gareth is a womanizer (Sorryyyyy needed someone to be!), alcohol consumption, thoughts of sex, thoughts tiddie fucking, kissing, Eddie being kinda desperate and horny for sex but trying to be respectful, nudity, R has tattoos, nipple and belly button piercing, body insecurity (Don’t worry Eddies just being a weirdo, she loves herself otherwise!), smoking, Steve being an insightful mama hen and apparently knows how women function (Steves a sweetheart, we want all men to be like Steve), light confrontation, looming anxiety, drunken accidental grinding, groping, R being to drunk to remember ALMOST having sex , threats of violence, tiddie sucking, hickeys, oral f receiving, fingering, squirting, interruptions, talk of oral m receiving, Smut P in V, no cut offs or dividers, sorry forgot to put them in. I tried to stay away Y/N I rly did but I think it slipped in once or twice (Sorry not sorry 😈)

Wordcount: Short and sweet only 22.2k........ (Yeah this fic quite literally ripped the idea in my head and sprinted away with it like it was wanted for murder (Get it? HAHAHAHA (Explaining my jokes, I love myself))

A/N: So I was watching Grown Ups (2010) the other day and thought it was so funny when all the guys talk about how little they have sex with their wives, but then it spiraled and got slightly angsty but personally I love this! Character list and ages under the cut :)

Love yas!

Part 2

Drawings I made for the fic for some visuals 😊

Grown Ups masterlist

Check out my other works!

Max (35), Lukas (35) - twins Eric (6) and Billy (6)

El (35), Mike (35) - no kids

Dustin (35), Suzie (35) - Willow (11 months)

Eddie (41), You (40) - Ophelia (10) and Roxette (7)

Gareth (37) - single, no kids

Luke -unnamed freak (39), Simone (38) - Tom (5) and Oliver (3) - not that it matters but Simone is african american so the kids are mixed incase it might be nice to visualise

Jeff (37), Tracy (45) - Ariana (16) (Tracy's daughter)

Will (35), Winter (33) - no kids

Steve (40), Nancy (39) - Mercy (11), Lousie (9), Rachel (7), Marcus(5), Bianca (3) and Dustin (2)

Jonathan (39), Charlotte (41) - Emma (6), Charlie (4) and Lilly (2)

Robin(39), Vickie(39) - no kids

Argyle (40), Eden (38) - no kids

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

Summer 1998, the sun was shining bright against the pastel blues of the sky, temperatures rising all over the country, it was the best time of the year, 10 year old Ophelia and 7 year old Roxette were off school for the summer holidays, you had your 6 weeks off and Eddie took leave from work, cashing his holidays in broken up during the 9 weeks of summer to be with you and his kids. Mid june and the Munson family had gotten the chance to rest for the first 5 days before the roadtrip to Dustin’s late granny’s lakehouse in Muskegon, the five hour road trip delayed with multiple food stops, toilet breaks, a few car boot sales which signs had caught you eye, one mall trip to stave off Roxy’s crying when she realised she forgot to pack her bathing suit and a few leg stretchers to keep both the kids from going crazy in the backseat.

Ophelia had grown up to become a relatively quiet kid, calm, never too temperous and always content with following around with the grown ups plan, god knows how, neither you nor Eddie were ever people to be considered calm and peaceful. In your youth running around being chased by Hopper after breaking into abandoned places, caught drunk encouraging Eddie to piss on the large bronze statue situated in front of the mayor's office, shoplifting, vandalism, disturbing the peace, there had even been one time where Hopper had knocked on Wayne’s trailer door, two embarrassed soon to be adults stood behind him, wrapped up in blankets with not a single other article of clothing on for modesty after giving you both a ‘ride home’ as you liked to joke.

The straight defiance of US laws simmered down after Ophelia came along but partying, loud obnoxious jokes, crazy schemes and dramatic displays of affection were still something very normal for the two of you. Well normal up until the last six months or so where it had simmered down. The both of you were still cuddly and giggly and chummy with each other, but lately it seemed you both had drifted apart, admittedly you more than him.

Roxette however seemed to have taken to both of you, couldn't sit still, always loud, always on the move, yup she was the embodiment of both yours and Eddie’s personalities, the same reason as to why the five hour road trip pushed 9 hours. Roxy could barely handle the 20 minute drive to school…

Up at 8 am packing the kids into the car with plenty of books, comics, cd’s and toys you set out. Eddie at the wheel of your 95 Mitsubishi Mirage while you cozied under a blanket next to him, head lolling on your shoulders threatening to tip you over until you adjusted yourself to sit up against the window as you let that comforting dull, cloudy feeling overtake you and drift you off to sleep. In the back Roxette was fast asleep while Ophelia bobbed her head in tune to Tupak Shakur’s latest album R U Still Down? playing in the round silvery cd player Eddie kept in the glove compartment, staring out at the trees whizzing past the window.

The clock was nearing 5 pm when the car pulled off the bumpy road -with Eddie in the passenger seat- over the gravel parking lot to what Dustin had called The Henderson Castle. A quaint surprisingly large cabin in dark mahogany wood panelling, green chipping edging and beams matching the green steps to the bright blue double doors. Lake Michigan painted the horizon behind the garden, a small private beach next to a short dock attached to a boathouse and a sailboat tied to the wood panels, a rack of 5 canoes resting on the old water stained wood. Wooden beach chairs and plastic loungers framed in by the litter of trees and behind a picnic table and worn down monkey bars.

Eddie took to emptying the boot of duffle bags and food bags while you urged Ophi and Roxy out of the back. Cars of different prince rages surrounded them as things were retrieved out of the vehicle, “Well well well look who decided to show up!” Dusting grinned from the front door, carrying a little girl on his hip who tucked her head into his shoulder in shyness.

Matching grins were shone at the 35 year old as he descended the steps to greet you “What's up man!” Eddie patted him on the back in a one armed hug before he went around to give you a proper hug. “Hi! I’m Roxette” your daughter said excitedly, Dustin bent down to talk to her “I know, we've met before” his voice was sweet and mischievous as he stuck out his hand for Roxette to shake.

You were all hustled into the house where a large group of people were scattered around the kitchen, dining table to your left and living room to your right behind the kitchen, all hollering in delight as your family of four stepped over the threshold. Hugs were exchanged as well as ‘took you long enough’s and ‘did you learn to read the clock in your three years of senior year’s, soon enough a wide spread of food, carefully put out by Dustin's wife Suzie had been devoured and catch ups had been exchanged.

Dustin had taken the duty of showing everyone to their rooms, Jonathan’s three kids, Emma, Charlie and Lily, Luke’s Carl and Tom, Steve and Nancy's six nuggets Mercy, Lousie, Rachel, Marcus, Bianca and Dustin, Max and Lucas’s twin boys Eric and Billy, as well as Ophelia and Roxette were all given the privilege of sharing the well lit and cozy basement. 17 kids with the exception of Willow who had her own little bed with Dustin and Suzie and Ariana, Jeff’s 16 year old step daughter who got her own room, were all over the moon, excited about causing as much ruckus as they could. Parents and couples alike all directed upstairs to the second and third floor for their own bedrooms in the impressive lakehouse.

The time on Eddie’s watch showed 11:32 as he took it off and placed it on his temporary nightstand for the next week when you crawled under the patchwork cover and got yourself comfortable on your side. Teeth brushed, clothes changed, good nights said and bags unzipped it was time to turn in for the night. Something about being on the go for 8 and a half hours and then making conversation in a room full of 39 other people was extremely exhausting and it caught up to you as your head nestled into the plush worn cotton pillow.

You heard Eddie yawn loudly behind you as he no doubt flung his balled up fists out in the air, stretching like a cat by the side of the bed. He rustled behind you until you felt the cover lift and a warm body dip into the mattress, humming as he scooted over to wrap his arms around you and hold your back to his chest. You bathed in his embrace, happy and content cuddling up with your husband until, you felt him move again to press his hips against your. A soft grunt escaped your lips as Eddie pushed his hard on to nestle between your ass cheeks, on display from the back of your threadbare t-shirt riding up.

“Mm Eddie I’m really tired” you groaned quietly, nestling further into his arms wrapped around you. You heard him sigh and had your eyes been open you would have undoubtedly rolled them at his reaction “We’ve been on the go since 8 am, I’m really not in the mood” you further explained “I know baby” Eddies breathed slightly disappointed, in the back of his mind he had hoped that the change of scenery might get you exited, possibly put a stop to the dry spell you had seemed to be going through. “Lets just go to sleep yeah?” he whispered, fingers crossed that his disappointment and slight annoyance at his idea being wrong couldn't be detected in his voice. You hummed in agreement as Eddie slackened behind you and fell asleep.

The morning had been hectic, starting off already at 7 am when both girls rushed in to find their clothes, awakening you as they spoke loudly “Girls you know this” Eddie sighed as he tiredly sat up on his side of the bed, pulling his warm grasp away from you “Knock on the door, don't just barge in” he was slightly exasperated as he told them off “But were on vacation!” Roxette whined as she paused in rifling through one of the bags “Yeah well the rule still applies”. Even though it might be mostly your fault it was still funny that he was dictating a rule set in place so they wouldn't walk in on you having sex when you actually hadn’t even had sex in god knows how long.

The reason why you were mostly at fault for the fact was that yes you were the first to cool down with initiating it but you didn't accept Eddie’s advances even when he tried. But recently you just hadn’t been in the mood, work had been hectic and you barely had time for each other, to top it all off lately you’d just felt a dip in your confidence. The fact that you were now in your 40s just seemed to catch up with your busy brain, you didn't look the way you did when you and Eddie first got together, or even the way you did just a few years ago. You'd always been on the bigger side of scales but that never bothered you, in fact your looks weren’t even the problem, objectively. It was the way you felt inside, old, tired, unnatractive, it had caused you to pull back from him, curl in on yourself and throw yourself into being a mom and a good boss.

Eddie had to keep reminding himself that there wasn't a chance in the realm of possibility that the reason you were staying late at work had anything to do with anything other than work. Something he found himself telling his brain a lot whenever your nearest colleague Greg resurfaced in his mind. Greg was a sweet lovely man who worked just below you, but it was hard to remind himself of that as he thought about the many hours you spend at work alone with him. Even though he was a good kind soul he was undoubtedly attractive, even though he knew you were loyal to your husband and he to his wife and even though he knew he was more your type than Greg was it was still a constant bicker in his brain.

–

The rest of the morning was even worse, such a drastic change from lounging around the house or almost falling asleep on a blanket in the yard as you attempted to read. Kids were everywhere, everyone was talking, moving around and trying to get to the food served for breakfast, it was stressful to say the least. You were used to large crowds, parties, concerts and other events but now it was just too much, and it seemed to show as Eddie wrapped his arms around your shoulders behind you, planting a kiss to your temple as you talked to Tracy, Jeff’s wife. You appreciated the gesture, even though you hadn’t been all too close to him recently and it was clearly beginning to frustrate him he was still there for you, something that made your heart squeeze.

Finally around noon the pace had slowed, some kids were occupied with games and crafts inside while your own played with Luke's, Steve and Nancy's kids in the water. Splashing around happily as Nancy floated around nearby while you took the chance to get to know Luke's wife Simone and Jeff’s Tracy better. Eddie, Steve, Gareth, Jeff and Luke all lounged around on the chairs pushed into the sand just as it turned to grass behind them.

“So Gare, still sad and single?” Jeff chuckled as he sipped a matching cool beer to the rest “Hah! Sad? I’d take being single any day over commitment and fuckin’ kids” he scoffed, legs spread wide as he tanned under the sun in baggy ombre trunks. “Hey having kids aint that bad” Steve grinned “Oh sure, I bet it's a riot being woken up at 5 am by 6 little assholes every morning” he chuckled.

The sun was high up in the sky, water glittering under the shine as it splashed around by the kids shrieking and laughing. “Ugh, had to remind mine to knock on the fucking door this morning, both of them just waltzed in like they owned the place” Eddie supplied as he looked over at you. Stood by the waters edge laughing at a story Simone was telling, his eyes scanned down your frame quickly, lavender purple full briefs that came up to your waist, just below that glittering jem butterfly hanging from your belly button, a ruching detail at the front and a matching purple halter top to match. He had to look away before he began oggling at your round curves at the way the haltertop bikini pushed your tits up to each other, fuck he would have loved to kiss all the way down your throat and over your chest.

“Ooh ‘fraid the kids are gonna walk in and be scarred for life by your pasty white ass?” Gareth laughed at his joke as his eyes flicked over to you too. “Pffft” Eddie deprecatingly shooed “Nah man, that hasn't been a risk for like ages” he took a large gulp of the cold beer in his hands “Now that I think about it, hasn't been a risk since like before christmas”

“That's what marriage does to ya, too high on the feeling of new love and sparkly lights of wedding planning till they dim and she sees your ugly face at the altar” Gareth sat up to inspect Eddie slightly, Eddie laughed along with the others “Man shut up” he managed through a smile.”She's not pregnant is she?” Luke piped up as everyone was now looking over at the subject in question.

From the corner of your eye you noticed the attention and turned slowly with a soft confused frown, Steve and Luke smiled at you as Jeff quickly averted his gaze, Eddie giving you a forced smile before he slapped Gareth's hand down which was waving at you, fingers wiggling as a seductive smiled painted his features. Your frown deepened as you awkwardly waved back and turned back to the other moms.

Eddie's face switched from annoyed to questioning as he turned from Gareth to Luke “What?” his brows pinched as wrinkles formed on his forehead. “Well when Simone is pregnant she gets kinda distant, doesn’t wanna do anything” he further explained. “Nah man she’s not pregnant, she's got an implant”

“Eh, dont beat yourself up about it, me and Nancy barely have any time for ourselves let alone fucking” Steve waved him off. “Yeah well she's had six kids, probably sick of your junk by now” Jeff chuckled, an eye roll from Steve in return.

“I dunno, she's just busy, got alot on with work and the kids” he pushed his sunglasses further up his face as the sun resurfaced out of a cloud. He did not want to mention Greg and listen to Gareth's lude comments or let any of the others feed him delusions. You were not cheating. “Who knows, maybe she's sick of your junk too. Tell ya what, send her my way I’ll get her walking out a happy woman” Gareth smirked wickedly. “If you don't shut your mouth I’m gonna come over there and beat the shit out of you” he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to look over at Gareth who put his hands up in surrender.

“Apart from Steve am I the only one not getting some action” before Gareth had a chance to open his mouth Eddie pointed at him “and you shut up” he sneered. “I mean Ariana’s like 16 so she's never really home, so we do.. get the house to ourselves quite a bit..” Jeff answered sheepishly “Great” Eddie turned to Luke “Mine are fuckin’ 3 and 5 but I mean we have some time sometimes” Luke shrugged “How often is sometimes?” Luke cleared his throat and dropped his voice to an awkward tone “Like.. two… three times.. a week” he looked out at the water.

“Jesus christ, so it's not like a normal thing?” he slumped back in his chair, looking back at you, smiling widely as you now stood splashing water at Roxette, not on the beach anymore. “Have you talked to her?” Jeff asked “I mean no not really, but she's made it obvious she doesn’t wanna do anything, so I've just kinda backed off” he looked back at his friend. “But you've tried like starting something?” “Yeah, less and less now but yeah”

“You tried getting her drunk?” Gareth chuckled but fell dead silent as Eddie began to lean forward about to get up and smack him “Chill chill!” he held his hands out in front of him, awaiting the attack. “I just meant loosen her up a little, get her relaxed maybe put her mind off things”

“You're a dick” Eddie flipped him off “He does kind of have a point, maybe she’ll relax a bit” Luke cleared his throat “We could I dunno all sit ‘round the fire after all the kids have gone to bed. Then she might not have to worry about that ya know?”

“I mean I guess, but isn't that like a complete asshole move, get her drunk just so I can get her into bed?” he made a slight look of disgust at the thought “Not drunk, just a little I guess tipsy?”

The conversation continued for a while before the topic changed to Jeff's new job, all sat in the sun basking in the light, soaking it up and talking about nonsense. Ophelia and Roxy came out of the water and Eddie watched as you dried them off lovingly and led them up to the house. He was nursing his fourth beer, head starting to go a little fuzzy as Simone too sent Tom and Oliver up to the house, Nancy was left throwing Bianca around in the water as the other three laughed and all shouted me! me! Me!’s, Dustin the two year old splashing happily by the waters edge. Simone and Tracy made their way up the sand to sit with the guys.

Tracy told Jeff she was going to check on Ariana as Simone plopped herself down in Luke’s lap happily giving him a kiss following up with a giggle when she pulled back “Jesus how many beers have you drank”. She sat mostly quiet as they all continued, now about some recent U.S news, jumping in to add to the conversation as she draped her arm around Luke's shoulders.

Eddie had his back to the house as he opened his fifth beer and leaning back even more into the chair, he didn't see as you came back out of the house walking down towards them. Only laying eyes on you as you rounded his chair at the end of the row of them facing the water, barely registering you before you stood before him. As the others continued talking he looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something, assuming you had come to ask something of him. His heart skipped a beat as you inched closer to him, his fingertips grazing your thigh. “Can I sit?” you ask with a sweet smile, his cloudy brain was too gone with the cool fizzing beer to register that you had spoken as he broke out in a grin witnessing your happy face, it warmed him to see you, you being happy made him happy. He suddenly realised you had talked to him and shook his head attempting to look up at you more serious, you giggled softly at him as he straightened his face up, but hearing those sweet little noises of content made that dopey grin fall right back into place “I said, can I sit?” your voice was so sweet it made his whole brain stop.

“Oh, yeah” he chuckled as he sat up properly, hands itching to touch you. His dopey grin became even dopier, even wider as you turned and bent down to place yourself in his lap, legs coming to curl up and feet slot between his thigh and the space under the armrest. When you settled Eddie’s hand holding his beer settled over your thighs and his other came around your waist, wrapping around you and pulling you towards him to lean against his chest. He almost died as he saw your smile widen at the action and nestle into him, and then even wider as he placed a kiss to your shoulder. He was on cloud nine at the fact that you were sitting in his lap, smiling away. You haven't sat in his lap for a long looong time and the fact that you did it so easily made his heart squeeze and his head spin.

“Oh Simone you never got to tell me about your trip!” you exclaimed as the conversation quieted down “Oh right! So-” she began to recount her crazy trip to Japan she had taken a few weeks ago for work as Eddie took another sip of his beer, light shock painting his features as you took the bottle from him and took your own gulp while you listened intently. The sun was almost right behind Simone and you began to squint as you tried making eye contact with her, you turned to look down at Eddie for only a second before you realised he had his sunglasses on. Casually you reached up a hand to pull them off him and place them on your nose, Eddie chuckled at the action which made you giggle slightly as you continued listening.

With no glasses on now, everything was a lot brighter, he settled into the new position and calmed down from his excitement and finally got a chance to register what you were wearing. A floral short white skirt he had seen before, he remembered well, because last time you had worn it was last year dropping the kids off at Steve’s for a sleepover. Oh he remembered it very well, last time your worn it you'd snuggled up to him on a blanket in the far end of the garden, hidden by trees and bushes, only to be seen from the house and gotten a little bit frisky, teasing turned to tickling which turned to Eddie lying on top of you pounding into you at a furious pace with your panties pushed to the side.

The memories flooded back to him and he realised that if he just moved his hand on your waist down a little bit, and then a little bit more he would find the hem of it and could slip his hands under the fabric to rest his broad palm on the fat of your ass, give you a little squeeze. Before he had time to consider it his eyes cast a glance at your top. Fuck. That brown crochet halter top that he had seen you curled up on the couch making as you watched tv in late January. From his position he could see right over you, tits pushed together by the way the triangles tied behind your neck, could see that one little freckle he always liked to give a kiss, could see that little scar almost hidden on the right. Fuck he wanted to grab them, and kiss them, and suck on your nipples to draw that one little whine at first contact, no he wanted to watch them bounce up and down in you bra as you rode him, no! He wanted to watch them bounce up and down as he sat back on his calves thrusting into you so aggressively that your tits would bounce up and slap you in the face and make you roar out laughing, NO! he wanted to hover over your ribs as you looked up at him with that twinkle in your eyes as you held your tits together, mushing around his cock slipping back and forth in the lube he kept in his nightstand. FUCK.

He had to look away, something, something that could find his attention, yes the tag on the bottle you were holding, yeah he was gonna read that. Now is not the time to get hard you asshole, she’s only just sat in your lap, for the first time in ages! on your dick… like right on it… no, fuck, you piece of shit, she’s gonna feel if you get hard and she’s not gonna be happy about it. Well she is smiling, she seems really happy.. Yeah so don’t ruin it fucker, remember last night? Yeah exactly. He was fighting with himself as he pretended to read the beer bottle, eyes following as it moved from its place on the arm rest with your hands loosely wrapped around it, followed it up to your lips as he saw you laugh and press your lips to the rim.

Oh shit those lips he wanted to kiss so badly, wait maybe he could? That's ok right? Kissing? We still kiss? It's not like we don't kiss? Fuck it, if he wanted to kiss his wife, he was going to kiss his wife.

As you brought the bottle back down to the armrest Eddie moved on instinct, his body working faster than his brain, his hand slunk out from under your arms and up to cup your cheek, causing you to turn to him in question, eyebrows raised awaiting him to say something. He didn't say anything, he only began to pull his hand back, slowly bringing you with him. He closed his eyes, it felt like forever, forever forever forever, until suddenly soft lips on his. Everything was in slow motion as if the world stopped around him as moisturised soft plump lips met his own, barely a craze, just a touch and then more, closer, lips pressing slowly to each other and then at its destination, pressed against your lips in a kiss that made him explode inside. Suddenly your lips drew back and so did you.

It was just a peck, a simple peck, but it made his heart stop, as well as time, the world and just about everything else around him. A sigh escaped his chest in content as he opened his eyes to see you smile down at him, his own smile quickly matching yours before you drew back and looked back to Simone. His brain was swimming around in a pool in his head, everything was a daze as he watched you lick your lips and grin slightly, turning to him again to whisper “Taste like beer” that cute nose in a scrunch as you spoke to him.

The daze halted as he chuckled “You too” which earned a smile from you and moved his hand back to splay across your thighs. Finally he turned to the rest of the group and lay notice to Steve a knowing wide grin directed at you, Simone in full ramble as Luke looked up at her in awe, Jeff listening in, and Gareth with an evil smirk on his lips, staring right at him. Eddie's smile faded and was replaced with a sneer directed towards his friend. Gareth's eyes flicked to you and back to Eddie as he mouthed an ooh which made Eddie's loose grip on you tighten immediately and pull you even closer to him, this time not easing up on his hold but insistent on holding you close, as if shielding you from Gareth.

Lunch came along not soon after, thankfully not as hectic as breakfast as Dustin and Suzie had grilled a bunch of hotdogs of various diets and put them all on one table along with bread, ketchup, mustard and dried onions. Everyone free to get drinks out of the various coolers around the kitchen.

The rest of the day was very similar to the morning, everyone hustled outside once the temperatures dropped a few degrees. Both you and Eddie had kept an eye on the girls as you mingled with all the parents and friends around the beach until eventually you walked up to Eddie placing your hand gently by his elbow to tell him you were going to go further up and lie down on a blanket and read in the grass. Eddie had taken the role of watching over the kids as they swam in the lake, at first only watching from the waters edge as he spoke to Dustin and Mike until he ran out on the jetty and cannonballed right next to Roxette, hitting the bottom immediately and landing right on his ass bouncing up to be splashed back in the face by Ophelia. She screamed in laughter as he picked her up and threw her away from him.

When he came up again water dripping down his skin he rejoined Steve and Lucas, as Lucas turned to tell Max something Steve nudged him and cocked his head behind him to the grass “Your wifes asleep” he chuckled as he motioned for Eddie to see you on your stomach, face resting in your crossed arms and book falling from your loosened grasp on it. “Go, I’ll look after the kids” he grinned as Eddie turned back to him. “You sure? I don't wanna-” “Yes I’m sure, just go spend some quality time with your girl” he grinned “Doubt it’ll be much quality time seeing as shes passed out but yeah ok, thanks dude” Eddie patted him on the back as he trudged through the sand, grabbing his towel on the way and patting himself dry.

Yup you were fast asleep he noticed as he got to the blanket and heard your soft snores, he bent down and picked your book up, dog earring the page, closing it and tossing it down into the grass. He groaned softly as he crouched down, falling flat onto his back next to you. Propping his head up on one hand while the other lay limp against his stomach he stared up at the sky through his now retrieved sunglasses. His gaze broke to turn and look towards you as he heard you stir in your sleep, you twisted your hips to pull the leg facing him up in a bend, knee nudging his hip. You seemed to relax for a few seconds before you grunted and turned to fully lay on your side, hands coming to press together and hold your head up only slightly.

Once again you relaxed and Eddie watched you amused with a smile on his face until suddenly an annoyed groan left you and the hand not forced against the ground slipped out from under your head shooting out in search of something. You blindly slapped lightly at the blanket before moving and slapping again, and again until your pinky came in contact with his skin, you hand lifted and slapped lightly against Eddie's chest, he had to fight the snort that threatened to fall from his throat as he watched you.

Finally your hand seemed to find the right place on his chest but surprisingly enough you didn't relax again, instead still hazy with sleep and with your eyes closed you moved on the blanket towards him, forcing your hips forward until you were flush against him. A heavy head thudded to his chest forced an oof to spill from his lips and a thick thigh moved and dropped heavily to drape across him.

You nestled up against him and finally you seemed to relax.

Eddie was beaming, the hand previously on his stomach searching for his towel to prop it up under his head and letting him wrap his arms around you to hold you to him. Soft breathing matched up to an even rise and fall of both your chests as Eddie soaked you up. The happiness he was feeling didn't last though, soon enough he too had fallen asleep under the hot sun and your skin against his.

Both of you awoke with groans as something landed on you, a very wet, very excited Roxette. “Why are you sleeping it's swim time!” she squealed as she rolled off Eddie and sat up. You groaned in pain as you too sat up “Cuz mom and dad are tired Roxy, so please don't jump on us” you told her as you stretched, Eddie doing the same from the ground. “But mom I wanna go play!” she stood up jumping up and down “Ok ok I’m coming hang on” Eddie was about to say something when you stood up and were whisked away by his daughter.

Dinner was tapas, everybody had brought a dish or some sort of food from the store ready to eat from the get go and was set up this time by someone other than Dustin and Suzie. You talked happily to Robin, Nancy, Will and his boyfriend Winter as you all set out plates, cutlery and food for tiny hands to grab excitedly. You ate in conversation with most of the hellfire club as you sat next to Eddie on a worn leather couch, pressing up to him and letting him give you the occasional kiss to your temple or lips, smiling the whole time. Eventually your plate was finished off and Eddie felt you slump against him after putting your plate on the table. His hand wrapped around your shoulders to rest your head on his for a while until eventually you leaned up and told him you were going to lay down for a bit.

You left with a squeeze to your hand and a sympathetic smile from your husband. You were planning on just having a lie down or maybe a quick nap but suddenly your clothes were to hot and too tight and too stifling so you quickly changed out of them and threw on the same ragged t-shirt from last night, falling onto the bed, not getting too comfortable because you didn't really want to fall asleep. The universe didn't seem to hear you though and soon you were fast asleep on top of the bed.

That's how Eddie found you after putting the kids to bed an hour later, knowing they wouldn't sleep with all the excitement of the other kids around but getting them to brush their teeth and change into their pyjamas. They had asked Eddie where you were and why you weren't saying goodnight so Eddie had to explain “Moms not feeling very well so she's resting but she’ll probably come say night night later”. When you told him you were going to your room it seemed like you just needed some quiet but that was clearly not the case when he found you like a log atop the covers.

He sighed, you needed your rest, the past year of work was clearly catching up to you but yet again he couldn't help the slight disappointment when he found you, he'd gotten hopeful and excited from the day, you'd been a lot more touchy than you ever had been the past few months, cuddling up to him, stealing kisses and it seemed that whenever you were near him you had a need to have some sort of contact, whether it be pressed up against him or his arm around you or even just your hand on his arm or thigh but he had to accept that you were too tired and needed to sleep.

Carefully he pulled the covers from under you and placed them back on you as you adjusted in your sleep to lie on your side. Just like yesterday he got in next to you and wrapped his arms around you as the big spoon. Falling asleep to the scent of your hair which his nose was nuzzled against.

This morning the girls actually knocked, waking Eddie from his light slumber to hum a yes at them to come in. Slowly you roused and sat up in bed to listen to your two excited girls tell you all about the cup phones they all made yesterday after dinner and how they had them crisscrossed around the room to talk to each other as Eddie rounded the bed, giving a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room to take a shower.

You were more relaxed at breakfast now that you knew what was coming and you even enjoyed it, sat at the dining table in conversation with Argyle and his girlfriend Eden, Winter and Jonathan's wife Charlotte who got the group's attention by balancing her cereal bowl on her 8 months pregnant belly which you found out would be her and Jonathan's fourth.

Across the room Eddie sat in an armchair next to Steve and Gareth “So you and your girl seemed to be very close yesterday” Steve leaned over and dropped his voice, “Yeah pay off? She put out?” Gareth grinned “That threat of me beating you ass is still on the table” Eddie stared at Gareth who only chuckled “But to answer your question, no she was asleep by the time I got to our room” Eddie shrugged, even if Gareth could be an assshole when it came to women he didnt want it to show that he was disappointed, it would only egg him on.

“Maybe we could do that bonfire thing tonight?” Steve suggested lightly “Besides I wouldn't mind some fun with Nance, she gets so exited when shes drunk its fuckin hilarious” he grinned and looked over towards how wife “Last time she was jumping around imitating a bunny she saw on kids tv” the other two laughed at the picture.

“Sure, we’ll go into town get some drinks, I think Dustin said he only had beer” Eddie shrugged happily.

Today was not the different from yesterday, things to do inside and people down at the beach splashing away. “Hey” Eddie bent down to talk to you as you sat on the couch playing shoots and ladders with a few of the kids after lunch “so were all having a bonfire night once the kids have gone to bed” Eddie smiled wide at your happy smile “so me and some of the guys are heading into town to pick some stuff up” you nodded and gave him a kiss before he headed off with Will and Dustin.

Dinner passed and you were pleasantly surprised that tiredness hadn’t overcome you. All the parents tucked their kids into bed and made a clear point that if anything were to happen they were just outside and to come get them if they needed to.

Eddie called your name with a yo you in here? as he knocked on the bathroom door nearest your bedroom, instead of answering him you unlocked the door and peeped out an intense stare directed his way “Sorry you can't come in without a warrant” you broke out into a grin as you went to shut the door, Eddies hand grasping onto the wood and forcing it open in a fit of giggles as you tried to fight him. Finally he stumbled in, almost knocking you over and catching you in his arms.

He locked the door behind him as he looked down at you “Mmm you smell nice” he hummed as his eyes took in your bare face, damp to match you hair, you giggled “Just had a shower” you explained as you slid out of his hold to pick your clothes off the floor. Eddie was slightly miffed as you brushed past him in just your towel and unlocked the door but he followed nonetheless.

Walking behind you as you tread carefully over the floorboards, hips swaying from side to side as you walked, Eddie leaned back to get a full view of you, hair wet and dripping water over your shoulders, thighs peeking out from under the towel, only long enough to cover your ass, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the towel pulled up slightly to reveal a peak of the bottom. Within an instant his hands circled your waist and picked you up, leaning back on his feet to pull you up off the floor. You squealed at him to let you down as you giggled, only dropping you back down to land softly when he thought he might fall over backwards from bending to steep.

“What was that?” you whispered as you began walking again, Eddie awkwardly tumbling along with his arms still around you “You just looked so liftable” he whispered back biting your cheek mischievously. You snorted an ok and opened the door to your bedroom.

Today you had been in a good mood, it seemed the long night sleep and absence of pressure to be productive had taken to you and you were still on a high from it. So pleased that you didn't even let your mind work up into a frenzy as Eddie let you go and flopped onto the bed.

You didn't think anything of it as you dropped the towel to change, the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen you naked since before christmas didn't even cross your mind.

Stood with your back to him you rooted through your bag to find a comfortable pair of sweats and a hoodie, preparing for the cold outside now that the sun had gone beyond the horizon. Eddie sat up straight in an instant. Eyes bulging wide and trained on you as the towel dropped to the floor when you found your clothes. He swallowed thick as you moved to another bag to look for underwear.

Holy shit. You were naked, like fully naked, no towel, no nothing covering you. Fuck he hadn’t seen this sight in over six months and here you were bathed in the moonlight and dim lighting of the old ceiling lamp, gold cast over your body, spotlighting the smooth skin, and rolls of your back, the stretch marks and cellulite of your thighs, the dimples in your back, every little colour and inked tattoo that showed in your skin. All out for him to see, all for him.

You turned with your clothes clutched to your chest to see a pin straight Eddie with wide awestruck eyes, mouth open in shock. “What?” you chuckled confused as you walked over to the foot of the bed, dropping your clothes onto the fabric. Eddie's brain stopped working as your front was revealed to him, soft breasts sloping down in a natural drop, a sliver of metal and nipples almost out of sight, round and calling to him like two beams of light in the night, your soft stomach spilling down, a patch of hair covering your puffy mound, framed by your soft doughy thighs. Fuck he just wanted to grip and suck and lick and kiss everything he saw right now, matter of fact he wanted to get down on his hands and knees and worship the ground you walked on as well as whatever higher entity out there that had created you.

You started to grow slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, suddenly feeling extremely exposed, an urge to cover yourself growing strong. In a rush you reached for your underwear to pull the black brazilian cut lace panties over your ass and hips. You looked over at Eddie again to see his mouth open and close as he blinked, awfully resembling a fish, it only encouraged you to get dressed faster, clasping the black bra and spinning it around to pull the straps up your arms. Once again you looked at Eddie, whose expression still had not changed, you threw the t-shirt over your head and jumped into your sweats, pulling the hoodie over yourself as you looked back. “Umm” Eddie started but trailed off “I'm going to the bathroom” you blurted out and within seconds you had practically ran out of the door.

Eddie stayed still, blinking and trying to wrap his head around what he had just seen. Finally he snapped out of it and shook his head, falling over on his side with a loud groan, pulling at the sheet to cover his face. What is wrong with you?! Your wife is naked for the first time in fucking forever and you just sit there?! He groaned even louder as he smushed his face into the comforter.

Finally you came to the realisation that you had just been naked in front of Eddie for the first time in a really long time, you rushed back into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet with your face in your hands. Well clearly you weren't just ugly on the inside now, you were ugly on the outside too. Why else would he just sit there and stare at you like you'd grown a second head? UGH what were you going to do?! You had finally loosened up, you were happy within yourself for the first time in ages and felt comfortable around Eddie again, you clearly should have had more control over yourself. He no longer found you attractive, Jesus Christ why were you kidding yourself?

A knock on the door broke you out of your spiral as you weakly asked a yes, the person outside of the door cleared their throat. It was Eddie. Oh, no, no no no no no. “Um, uh you wanna go down? Uh Mike just said the fire is lit” his voice sounded strained, uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable because he’d seen you naked and didnt like it, and now you had nowhere to hide AAAARGHHHH. “Yeah sure” your voice was broken as you spoke.

Slowly slowly you stand, slowly slowly you step towards the door, and slowly slowly you turn the nob. Eyes pinned to the floor as you walk out of the door, you see Eddie's feet as you walk past them and walk down the hall, you hear him follow behind you. This is the worst feeling, so much worse than coming home late from work hungry, or being in too big of a crowd, or too tight clothes on a hot sweaty day, this unease is so much worse.

Time ticks by slowly as you feel like you're walking to your execution, feet dragging across the floor shameful as Eddie walks behind you. Anxiety, heartbreak, stress, unease, insecurity all bubble up in your chest, threatening to bubble up to the surface through hot tears if you let yourself. You feel it in your chest, plummeting down to your stomach and spreading all through your body like slim black vines as if a disease, darkening everything inside you. Until a touch, a slight intentional braze of fingers that send sparks, gold touching at your hip and overpowering some of the black. Gold vines take over throughout your hip as you feel a soft hand grasp onto it, guiding you down the stairs.

Another spark of gold bleeding out into your vines on the other as Eddie holds softly onto your hips as your feet hit the ground floor. Gold vines that threaten to overpower the black and meet in the middle just below your belly button. Your breath hitches and speeds up in anxiety.

One hand leaves your hip and the gold dies off as quickly as it came, as the first on your right hip slips to hold the small of your back, the gold follows, bleeding from its starting point and stretching as you bend down to slip into your sneakers. The hand never wavers as Eddie leans down to slip his own shoes on, the heat from it causing the gold to continue without the order of touch, spreading slowly through your back, creeping up your spine in a shiver.

He opens the door to near 20 people scattered around a brazen fire, reds and oranges contrasting the deep dark blues of the sky and the shade its cast around them all. You step cautiously down the now dark green stairs, feet hitting the gravel before they hit grass as you veer off to the side away from the parking lot. “Hey” Eddie whispered beside you as you walk, coming to a stop as you turn to look up at him. Eyes glassy and scared at what his words might do to you. Just as he opens his mouth “Hey!” Robin runs over and pulls you off by the arm so she can show you something.

Eddie stands frozen, What just happened? he was about to apologise to you for being so weird. His feet drive him forward however and before he can think it over he’s by the mass of people, eyes zoning in on the table of drinks set up he makes a beeline for it. Pouring a shot of tequila he downs it, and then a second, before he can get ahead of himself he picks up a beer can, popping the tab he scans the crowd. His eyes find Steve not far away and quickly he's marching over “I need to talk to you” he says with a grip on the man's arm almost pulling him away from the scene.

A few metres away from the nearest cluster of figures he stops “Dude what's up?” Steve chuckles, confused “I just saw her naked” is all Eddie can say, Steve's confusion just deepens on his face “For the first time in over like six months” he widens his eyes willing Steve to understand. “Oh, oooh how’d it go?” Steve grins. “Fucking terrible!” Eddie shouts exasperated, quickly straightening up with eyes wide turning to see if someone heard. Everyones too fixated on their own conversation as he looks over at the people around the campfire but he finds you at the drinks table with Robin and Nancy cheering you on as you seem to be taking three shots in a row.

He turns back to Steve “How was it terrible?” Stevs confused again as he stares up at the taller man “Because Steve, she took her towel off and I just sat there” Steves face shows once again that he doesn’t understand “I just sat there, gawking at her like I’d never seen tits before, like some fuckin’ teenager” he grits. “Oh. Wait so walk me through it” he took a swig of his own can, some fruity cider. “Ok. So she was in the room, well actually, no, here” Steve frowns at Eddie's backtracking “So she was in the bathroom so I knocked on it and she stuck her head out grinning saying I needed a restraining order” Steve smirked but chose not to make a comment “And so she liked tried to close the door and I tried to open it and get in. Ah before you say anything it was just like flirty fun, nothing weird” Steve nodded “And she was all giggly, then we left the bathroom and I like picked her up and she was all giggly then too” “Ok ok” Steve nodded along “Then when we got to the room I just sat on the bed and she just like dropped the towel while she was looking for her clothes, then she turned and I think she said something I can't remember, but then she started like pulling all her clothes on, said she was going to the bathroom and ran off” he finished his recounting of the recent events with a few large gulps of his beer, almost downing half of it.

“Sounds like you freaked her out dude. Did you like explain why you were being so weird?” Steve tipped his head back to finish the rest of his cider. “Well I was gonna but then Robin just came up and ran off with her” both of them looked over to see you now stood with Robin, Nancy, Max and El a large glass of wine in your hand.

“Just go up and talk to her now, explain” Eddie screwed his face up at the thought of pulling you away to awkwardly explain why he just sat there “Listen, Nancy gets insecure about her body sometimes maybe she is too” Steve shrugged as they looked back to each other “She's like never ever insecure though, and I don't even think its hiding, she likes her body ya know” the rest of Eddies beer was slung down his throat. “Yeah but you might have made her insecure dude” “Ugh don't say that!” Eddie groaned, his beer was gone he needed something to fiddle with, to distract him, patting his pockets he found his packet of cigarettes, ones he usually kept out of view so the kids wouldn't see him smoking. He flicked his zippo and took a long breath once the cigarette was lit.

“I’m serious dude, it's not just the first time you've seen her naked it's the first time she's been naked in front of you, might be kinda scary”

“Since when do you know all about women?”

“Wel-”

“Don't start” Eddie held his finger up to silence him.

“Just go talk to her ok?”

“Fine, but I’m gonna finish this up first, think you can go get me a beer? Don't really wanna look like im ignoring her”

“Sure” Steve walked off as Eddie turned his back to the fire to crane his neck back in frustration, looking up at the sky.

“Steve used to be like that with me” Nancy giggled in the huddle as Steve walked up to grab a beer and another cider. “I used to be like what?” he grinned as he leaned over the table “Butt out dingus” Robin stuck her tongue out “Nothing babe” Nancy hid a grin behind her solo cup as she looked away. Steve narrowed his eyes in suspicion at his wife “It's just girltalk” you smiled at him which made Steve's face break out into an expression you couldn't read.

“Alright well” Steve spun on his heel and power walked back to Eddie “You better talk to her now, I’m pretty sure I overheard the girls talking about it” Steve rushed as he forced the cold can into Eddie's hands. “Oh for fucks sake” he groaned as he took the beer and began walking over to the table. He saw as Robin awkwardly hushed the group as she laid eyes on him which made his nerves bubble up, yeah they were definitely talking about it.

“Drink all that beer that fast?” Robin chuckled as Eddie neared “Mmhmn no” Eddie held his unopened can up for show as he arrived behind you “Can I talk to you?” he bend down as he dropped his voice lower, breath fanning over your ear as he spoke. “Ok” you whispered back meekly. He had no idea about girl code, and had absolutely no clue what the looks all the others were giving you meant as you set your plastic wine glass on the table and turned to walk away from them.

You walked silently side by side as he nonverbally steered you towards the cars, the three shots and half glass of wine causing for a pleasant buzz, dampening some of the anxiety you felt “Um you want a beer?” he asked quietly as he held out the can towards you when you came to a stop by your own car “No thanks” you mumbled as Eddie seemed to cage you in at the hood of the car. You frowned surprised when he flung the can behind him to softly roll into the grass, he needed his hands free for this and he hadn't had a chance to drink it before he came over.

“So what you wanna talk about?” you fiddled with the string of the cuffs of your worn out hoodie which was actually Eddies as you leaned back to prop yourself slightly on the hood of the car. “Um I just wanted to uh tell you I'm sorry for just like sitting there super awkward before” he looked down at you as you stared into his stomach unwilling to meet his gaze. “If I’m being honest I was just like shocked, we haven't really uh done.. that, in like a long time and it was just sudden” he saw you physically curl in on yourself which made him freak out “No no not like bad sudden, good sudden” you finally met his gaze, looking up at him confused “Fuck, I just mean like I’ve missed you and my brain just like short circuited” he tried to get you to understand.

A breath he didnt know he had been holding finally escaped his lips as he saw a small smile tug on your lips “I dont wanna make you like uncomfortable, but when I saw you I was just like, holy fuck, she’s naked and I think this is the best thing I’ve ever seen” the grin that spread on his face was a relieved one as you snorted a laugh “Im serious, like baby” his hands came to rest on your shoulder “You are so fuckin’ sexy and just every part of you is like some greek goddess has sculpted you or something. I’m totally ok with us not being intimate, even though I do miss you I just want you to feel safe and comfortable, and for you to be happy but I really do miss you. Obviously I miss you like as a person, you're my wife, and the mother of my children and I love you so much, but like above that fuuuuuck I miss being with you” he groaned as he thought about how long it had been.

Something swelled within you at his words, you wanted to laugh at his phrasing of being sculpted by a greek goddess but the meaning behind the words were just too flustering and sincere. And following up with that stupid wording he knew made you weak in the knees, mother of my children, yeah you liked that. You were the mother of his children, his wife.

“I’m sorry” you whispered as Eddies hands travelled down to rub up and down your arms “It’s just been a lot recently, in my head and work and all and I pushed you away I’m sorry” Eddie manoeuvred his knee to push yours apart so he could stand between them and be closer to you “Don’t say sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. We’ve both just been shit at telling each other things” as he towered over you you craned your neck back to see him properly, a grin spread across your face as you said in a whiny voice “Communication is key”.

Eddie laughed and brought his arms to wrap around your shoulders, pressing your face into his chest as he hugged you, kissing the top of your head as your own arms wrapped around his waist. You both lingered for a while as you hugged each other tight until Eddies arms loosed and he pulled back to look down at you again “While I do want to know what's been going through your pretty little head lately, why don't we go enjoy the fire and talk more when we get back?” you nodded with a smile. Eddie turned to walk back with you but spun around as you called his name. “One more thing” “Mm?” you grasped onto the fabric of his sweatshirt and pulled him down towards you.

Lips meeting his in a desperate hungry kiss you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck as his hands went to your hips, holding you softly to keep himself upright. He thought you were just going in for a long kiss when you broke off but soon enough your lips were back on him again as your fingers snaked through his locks. Another kiss and a tug at his hair had him groaning into your mouth as his hands squeezed tighter at your hips. A few more kisses and he felt your tongue poke softly at his lips telling him to open them. He pulled you flush against him as tongues swiped at each other, his hands moving from your hips past your back to grab angrily at you ass, pulling you up to stand and pushing your hips against his, forcing his hard cock against your mound, groaning at the contact and pressing even harder against you.

You pulled away from his lips and quickly out of his grasp “Ok now I’m happy” you laced your fingers with his as he stood dumbstruck, you began walking pulling him along with you “What??” his voice was slightly loud as he stumbled along after you “What? I said one more thing, that was my thing” you turned to grin at him wickedly “Oh you little-” he let go of you to run after you and lift you up off your feet as you squealed. The second he let you down you ran off with Eddie hot on your tail, tackling you almost immediately and turning you in his hold to face him so he could attack your hips with wiggling fingers, laughing as you shrieked from the tickling.

He ceased his attack on your sides as you stepped closer to the group, wrapping his arms around you once again and stepping up behind you to join the group around the drinks table. Steve gave him a knowing smirk as you bent over still attached to Eddie to retrieve a beer for him from the cooler on the ground and your wine, you giggled as he shoved the hand hold the ice cool beer under your hoodie to press against your warm stomach, fighting to move his hands away from you. “OOH smores! Come on!” Robin beckoned the group to sit in the half circle of logs around the fire, all squeezing together to fit as Robin planted herself on the ground to fish marshmallows out of ita bag.

“May I interest you in a shot of everclear mi ladies?” Gareth grinned as he stumbled over to you, Eddie, Nancy and Steve on one of the longs “Nah nah” Eddie waved the hand not wrapped around you in dismissal, “We got kids you dummy, gotta get up in the morning” Steve rolled his eyes at him. “More for me!” Gareth swiped all four each one after the other “I am NOT on duty to take care of this one!” Eddie held a hand up in the air as Gareth finished his last one. “Whaaaat? You don't wanna be my daddy?!” Gareth whined as he toppled over onto Eddie, Eddie’s hand coming to push him off, pressing hard against his stomach while everyone else laughed.

“Go sit down you drunk” Eddie motioned for Gareth to sit down next to Steve. “Oh hey Rob’s can you get me a vodka coke?” You smiled as the woman in question pushed herself off the ground, she gave you a thumbs up as Eddie leaned in “Vodka? How much have you drank already?” His breath fanned once again against you ear as he spoke to you in a low murmur “Eh its fine, I’m not planning on getting drunk” you waved him off “Mhm” Eddie hummed sarcastically as you grinned up at him.

“Jesus Robin how much did you put in here” your face scrunched up as you took a sip, you didn't particularly mind the taste of alcohol but you hadn't expected it to taste so incredibly strong “Like 80% vodka 20% coke” she grinned a dopey mischievous grin as she found her seat again “Chug it ya wont taste it” her grin widened even more “Come on chug chug chug!” she clapped her hands together as a few of the girls chimed in “You don't have to” Eddie searched your face with serious eyes “No no it's fine” your grin matched Robins as you looked up at him before swallowing the whole of the contents in the red solo cup. You cheered along excitedly as you crushed it and threw it down onto the ground.

Eddie felt you sway slightly as you sat up straight, well it seemed like the getting tipsy had gone a little too well, no doubt by the end of the evening you would be hammered and pass out again on the bed. It's fine he told himself, we’ll just do something.. another day. “Yo lets go get the chairs it's getting kinda cramped over here” Dustin walked over with Lucas and Mike on his tail “Oh sure. You gonna be ok?” he bent down to ask you as you stared up at the sky in a daze. “Huh? Oh yeah yeah” yup you were definitely drunk as you tried to focus your eyes on his face, he had a slight suspicion Robin hadnt put one single brand of vodka in your cup before handing it to you. “Nance could you..” he trailed off as he motioned to you, asking her to keep an eye on you, she nodded happily as he stood up, hands hovering around you to make sure you didn't fall over.

When he saw you could sit by yourself he grabbed into his sweatshirt by the collar and pulled it over his head, the fire was getting too warm for him, dropping it down next to you to occupy his place he got up and followed the others down to the edge of the beach.

“Oh!” you squealed as you planted a hand on his hoodie to feel the square cardboard box, digging through his pocket in mass concentration you managed to free the cigarettes and flipped open the top to see his zippo and a few cigarettes. Pulling the zippo and a cigarette out you turned to face Nancy, Tracy and Simone again as you lit the cigarette. Happily taking the next red solocup handed your way by Tracy. Taking a long breath and giggling as the nicotine swam up to your head, mind feeling floaty as you swayed from side to side, even more so as you sipped what seemed to be more vodka coke, this time not as strong.

“Aw man who let you-” Eddie cut himself off as returned a few minutes later, plucking the zippo and carton out of your hands after placing a chair down in the half circle of logs. You cackled as you watched him shove the packet out of view, this time into his jeans “Baby you know how you get when you smoke drunk” he grabbed into your free hand helping you stand up as you sucked down your second cigarette, almost empty solo cup left behind on the log. He led you back to the chairs to see one empty chair left “Really dude?” Gareth grinned as he spread out into the chair next to the empty one, revelling in Eddie's annoyance “Fine” Eddie breathed “Wait here” he told you as he turned to get his sweatshirt.

Gareth mumbled something to you as you swayed, trying not to fall over “What?” you almost shouted as you leaned forward, placing your hands on the armrest of Gareth's chair and dropping your head down to hear him. He said something again but your mind was too fuzzy to understand as you brought the cigarette back up to your lips. “Gareth stop flirting with my wife” you heard Eddie grit behind you as his hands slithered around your hips to bring you down with him as he sat down in the chair. “Whoo!” you squealed as you fell into Eddie's lap, flinging your hands into the air as if you were on an amusement park ride.

When you’d brought them back down you took another drag of the cigarette, closing your eyes as you exhaled, falling backwards onto Eddie's shoulder as your head began to spin back and back with the kick.

Eddie chuckled as he plucked the tobacco from your fingers and began talking to Will and Winter, he knew this was going to happen, everytime you drank and smoked your head began to spin, same with weed and smoking, if he wasn't careful enough you would fall flat on your ass with the dizziness. Suddenly you shot up, leaning forward “Oh Ophi loves that magazine!” you must have picked up on Winter talking about some fashion magazine Eddie hadn't heard of before. Soon you were in a deep conversation about the fashion industry and how hiphop had had an effect on it but within seconds Eddie zoned out.

You kept swaying back and forth, body vibrating with laughter as you flung yourself from side to side varying between leaning over to listen intently as catching up with your brain to form words. You were clearly quite out of it, wrapped up in your conversation and thinking nothing of it but Eddie did. The first few times you moved he didn't pay it any mind, but soon you were almost squirming above him, no longer just swaying but moving your ass, soon enough you were situated right on his crotch.

Eddie tried to pay attention to what Will was telling him, he really did but you just kept moving around, pressing even harder against him as you relaxed and dropped your weight down. The friction was just too much. Can she feel this? Does she even know she's moving so much? No she can’t feel I’m hard she’s too drunk. Fuck please don’t realize, shit. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, subtly trying to press you up against him more. What are you doing there’s people around! Fuuuuuck, you moved a little just as he pulled you flush to his chest and now he was situated right between your cheeks, pressure coming from all sides. He snapped his head when he heard you hum, could you actually feel him? Were you doing this on purpose?

Suddenly you turned your head and before he even had a chance to think about it your lips were on his in a hard kiss. As you broke apart he pulled away to frantically look around, Will and Winter were no longer next to you, he noticed them at the drinks table, now talking to Suzie, everyone else were in conversation all in their own worlds, drinking or making smores. Gareth had passed out next to him, Steve listened with a grin as Nancy talked excitedly, Jonathan and Charlotte were whispering to each other, matching smiles as their noses pressed to each others.

He found your eyes again, looking down at him with a drunken smile, eyes darting down to his lips with your pupils blown wide as glossed over, he gulped. That was a sight he hadn't seen in a long time, the want, need, in your eyes as you looked at him. You leant down again, capturing him in a sloppy kiss, he groaned into your mouth as you wriggled in his lap, turning to face him better. Hands coming up to wrap your arms around his shoulder as you sat twisted to face him. Lips smacking against each other desperately, hands planting firmly on your hips and squeezing, trying to twist you, and pull your chest to his.

Finally you broke apart with a heavy breath, Eddie's closed eyes opened slowly to admire your face with a smile. Before he had the chance though, you were sliding off him and getting to your feet with a grin, Eddie groaned and toppled over, hands coming to his crotch as his forehead almost nudged his knee. It had been a natural reaction, to cover his boner, now that he had he realised hiding it just made his problem all the more noticeable. He gave Steve the finger as he cackled at him just as you skipped off saying something about getting a drink.

Clearing his throat he had no other option but to follow his drunken wife, he reached for his sweatshirt that had been hung on the armrest and pulled it over him, making an effort to pull it down low in the front. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of the chair, his slow steps turning into large strides as he saw what you were doing. Within a second he was next to you pulling the bottle of everclear out of your hands “Hey!” you whined as you set your solo cup down. “Babe this is 95% alcohol, and I am not having you throw up all over me tonight” he set the bottle down and gathered you in a hug.

“Mean, you dont wanna take care of me? I see how it is” you joked as you made a show of untangling yourself from him, only making Eddie hold onto you tighter. “Of course I wanna take care of you” I’ll show you how fucking good I can take care of you “But I’d rather have you not throw up if I can” you made a mocking whine which caused a chuckle bubble up from Eddies chest.

“Let's get you some juice or something yeah?” he grinned down at you as you nodded “Jesus christ all these drinks and not a single thing alcohol free” he frowned as he inspected the table, all the mixers now gone. “There's some cartons inside” Dustin chipped in “Thanks dude”.

So Eddie was turning you in his arms to hold at your hips as he led you steadily up to the house, laughing as you stumbled and almost tripped over your own feet, slowly he led you up the steps and through the door. “Okay” he breathed as he walked you to the kitchen island, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to sit on the wood “Oh my god!” you squealed as he lifted you “I forgot you could do that! Do it again!” you squealed. Eddie shushed you quietly “I will if you keep your voice down a little, the kids are asleep downstairs” he pecked your lips as he turned to open the fridge “Oh riiiight” you leaned towards his back with an exaggerated whisper.

Just as Eddie turned he saw you about to fall over the edge, shooting a hand out to catch your arm, placing the juice on the table and coming around to hold onto both your arms and coax you upright. “Ok my little fall risk whose like a newborn baby that can't support its head” you snorted loudly as Eddie grabbed the juicebox next to you and poked the straw through the seal. Legs pressing up against the table to stand between your thighs, keeping you sitting up “Here, drink this” he held out the juicebox to you, which you took and drank all within one breath, slurping noises within the carton as you finished it.

Wiping your mouth you looked back up to him with a wide grin, collapsing into his chest and mushing your cheek to the green fabric. Eddie chuckled as his hands came to circle your back “I think it's time for you to go to bed yeah?” he whispered as you pushed yourself closer to him humming in agreement “But you have to carry me” Eddie laughed. He hadn’t carried you for a while, but he’d like to think he was still strong enough, lean muscles hidden under all his clothes from hard work at the auto shop. The only thing was that you were very drunk and he was afraid he’d drop you. “Ok” he whispered, marvelling in your giggle as he bent his knees and wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“What? You told me to carry you” he drummed on your ass as he began walking past the dining table earning a drunken laugh from you.

Somehow he managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, throwing you playfully onto the bed, just as he was about to pull away from you to stand up two hands fisted at his sweatshirt, pulling him onto the bed sloppily as your lips connected to his. As you continued kissing him he moved, never disconnecting his lips from yours as he lay himself between your thighs.

His brain stopped as he heard your soft moan against him as he pushed himself flush against your clothed cunt. He needed to hear that sound again. He thrusted his hips hard against yours to hear your moan again this time slightly louder, quick to muffle it by kissing you harder. One of his hands on your hips travelled quickly under your hoodie to first at your breast over your bra. FUUUUUCKKK he hadn’t gotten to feel your tits in so long and now that he did it felt like fucking heaven.

Grabbing onto you desperately as he set a pace of thrusting his hard cock against you, sloppily swiping his tongue against yours. Soft groans and moans from both of you muffled by each other as you made out. Eddie couldn't begin to explain how good this felt, kissing you, touching you, it was too much for him. His pace quickened against you as you pulled at his hair, other hand pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt. Getting the hint he sat up on his calves to rip his shirts off, cock throbbing with eagerness as your hands travelled lightly over his happy trail, past his stomach and up his chest, hand grabbing at his neck pulling him back to you.

His lips connected to yours again as he cupped your face and let your hand trail up his side and grip at his shoulder. He pulled away to breathe, staring down at your face, eyes blown wide and filled with lust, kiss bitten lips, hips squirming for friction against him. You were drunk, he knew he shouldn't be doing this when you were drunk but he couldn't help himself, he hadn't felt you in ages and now that he’d gotten a taste he couldn't stop himself.

Sitting up again he pulled at your hoodie, urging you to sit up so he could pull it off you, nimble fingers eagerly unclipping your bra before pushing you back against the bed. Breath cut short as his nose pushed against your cheek and his lips connected to yours. His hips gave a particularly hard thrust as his hand went back to squeezing at your now naked breast, barbell piercing pinched between his fingers as his other hand propped him up, causing you to moan against him as the zipper of his jeans caught against your clit, igniting a fire within your core you hadn't felt for a while.

Your moan egged him on to thrust even harder as his lips relentlessly kissed yours. He heard a knock at the door but chose to ignore it, he had you here, in your bed for the week, topless, kissing him, moaning for him, wanting him, there was nothing he would do to stop this moment. The knock came again and he pulled away yelling an angry “WHAT?!” into the room. Aggravated and annoyed that there was something outside of this room, the world that had stopped around him, that needed him more than you did right now, more than he needed you.

It showed on his face, the annoyance which dropped immediately as well as his heart as he heard the low scared whisper “Daddy?” his forehead dropped to yours as he closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh “Yeah?” he called without moving from his comfortable position against you. “Um.. I peed” the voice whispered shamefully, Roxette on the other side of the door, no doubt clutching her teddy bear close to her as she called for her dad.

Eddie sighed against you as you let out a low giggle, the whole situation was kind of funny. Eddie straining against his jeans and boxers, frustrated and only thinking of you naked below him and his daughter interrupting to tell him she peed herself.

“Coming!” he moved slightly above you, staring down in to your eyes as he whispered “Don't go anywhere I’ll be right back” a hard kiss to your lips as he scrambled off you, making no effort to cover his bare chest as he walked to the door, opening it and slipping out you heard Roxy on the other side of the door ask curiously “Where’s mom?” “Uh she’s sleeping”. Boner gone, and everything else that surrounded you, gone for the moment as he took his daughter into the bathroom, placing her in the shower as he ran to retrieve a fresh change of clothes and bedding in your room, groaning as he saw you now on the bed in only a pair of panties. Rushing as fast as he could to change the sheets, his daughter and then soak them all off and hang them up outside to dry.

The five minutes he thought it would take stretched to a near half hour as he was caught up having to explain to multiple people why he was hanging bedding up and then staying with Roxette as she begged him to stay till she drifted off.

Finally he made it back to your room, taking a heavy breath in preparation before opening the door, heart dropping as he found you naked atop the covers, on your side, and fast asleep.

He loved his daughters but could they be more of a cockblock?! He went through the same motions as yesterday, tucking you in and shuffling in next to you to wrap his arms around you. He had to remind himself that there were five days left of this trip, plenty of opportunities to get you alone.

You woke up confused, head throbbing and.. naked? Why were you naked? You frowned as you tried to remember last night: Getting dressed and feeling insecure, shots, talking to Eddie about it, more drinking, something in the kitchen and oh right you and Eddie made out shirtless but you couldn't remember anything else. “Hey Eddie” you nudged the man behind you who groaned “Eds” your shook him slightly “What?” he grumbled behind you “Did we have sex last night?” you turned in his arms to face him as he opened his eyes “We were about to but Roxette peed herself” he murmured, there was a hint of annoyance and frustration in his voice as he recounted last nights events before nuzzling into your shoulder and pulling you tighter against him. “Oh” you breathed as you hand found his back, “Total cockblock” he mumbled against your skin drawing a snort from your throat.

So you were about to have sex with Eddie last night, for the first time in over six months. You found as you thought about it that you weren’t totally against that idea, it felt strange thinking about it, for so long you’d set up walls to block him out and now you felt like you didn't want them there anymore. They were in your way.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts “Just a minute baby!” you called as you scrambled to get away from Eddie, turning to look down at the floor, Eddie's Metallica t-shirt that lay inside his sweatshirt was the closest, you hastily pulled it to you, throwing it over your head as you sat up against the headboard. “Yeah come in!” you called to the door as you felt Eddie's hand fall limp on your thigh.

Ophelia and Roxette shuffled through the door, Ophelia going straight for her clothes and Roxette climbed onto the bed, laying her head in your lap and onto Eddie's hand. “Dad moooove” she shoved at his hand as he grunted in his sleep, flicking his hand in an attempt to move her head away “Daaad” she whined as she pushed at his hand, his hand slid down to hold your knee instead.

“I heard you had a little accident, you ok baby?” you stroked her hair as she settled back in your lap “Mm peed myself” she pouted “But no one saw so I think its ok” she told you. “And your dad cleaned you up you ungrateful” Eddie mumbled the rest of his sentence into the pillow as he rolled onto his stomach. “Oh, yeah dad helped”

Soon enough everyone was dressed and downstairs, “So!” Dustin clapped his hands together, gaining the attention of the room “Today is waterpark day!” he referred to the plan he had already set in place. Kids excitedly shovelling food into their mouths after the walkthrough of the day before running to their parents rooms to get dressed and ready.

Roxy was very excited about her new swimsuit, a blue flowery two piece with a blouse resembling top, but huffed when Eddie told her to come over so he could put sunscreen on her before they went out because she’d want to jump in the water as soon as they got to the waterpark.

Bags were packed, cars were started and everyone changed as 10 cars and two minivans rolled out onto the road. Setting up camp in a cluster of beach chairs under parasols plans were made. All the kids were very excited, making it quite difficult to get them all gathered and keep them from running off. “Mom I don’t wanna wear the floaters!” Roxette whined as you blew the arm puffs up for her. “Baby you have to” popping the cap closed you started with the other “But Ophelia doesn’t have hers!” She stomped on the ground “Yeah but Ophelia's older she knows how to swim” you explained as you coaxed her over to stand between you knees “I can swim too! No! I don’t wanna!” She ripped her arm away from you as you held it “Baby look a bunch of the other ones are wearing them” you pointed over at the other parents putting arm puffs on their own kids, Eddie stood nearby lathering sunscreen on your eldest. “Fine!” She whined as she let you pull one up her forearm “Be good and you’ll get an ice cream later” you grinned as her face broke out into a toothy smile “Ok!” She happily accepted her fate and let you put the other arm puff on her.

Argyle and Eden excitedly signed up for chaperoning the kids as well as Robin and a cautious Vickie, Lukas, Mike, Dustin and Suzie joining in as they set off with the kids for a waterslide, Steve and Eddie telling them they would catch up with them.

You, Nancy, Simone, Tracy, her daughter Ariana, El, Max and Charlotte all huddled together on the beach chairs, lounging as you looked over the waterpark. Will and Winter walked off to get some fancy waterpark drinks that caught their eye as Eddie, Steve, Luke, Gareth and Jeff looked over the map of the waterpark.

“Oh what a beautiful day!” Nancy smiled brightly as she sat down with baby Dustin in her lap, Simone undid her beach wrap and sat down in a cheeky black bathing suit with straps lining up to her hips, halter top neckline with an open back. “Oh it is hot!” she commented as a few of the other girls cheered at her. “We really doing bathing suits?” Charlotte asked cautiously “Oh come on girls we don't know these people who cares?” Simone smiled brightly as she took her sunglasses off and dropped them onto her wrap on the ground, “Yeah you're right who cares? I've been working on this six pack all spring!” Charlotte pulled her cover up off, thrusting her pregnant belly for show under her punch pink pregnancy dress bathing suit “Yeah baby got front!” she laughed as the girls cheered her on, “Come on Y/N its your turn to strip!” she grinned as she sat back down “Oh no I don't know” you shyed away.

The swimsuit you were wearing today was not one you were extremely comfortable in, it had been a gift from your friend and you brought it with you just in case, but your bikini had been haphazardly shoved into a ball in your room out of sight and out of mind and therefore not washed deeming it unwearable as it began to smell. This one was a blood red one piece instead, the hem was high on your hips and practically a thong at the back, low cut in the back and round cups pushing your tits together above an upside down triangle showcasing some skin and the undersides of your boobs. “Oh come on! Like Simone said no one cares!” Nancy grinned as she clapped, the others joining in and clapping along. “Oh ok!” they cheered as you stood up and made a show of dropping your towel and filing it onto your chair, even going as far as a little spin.

Not far away Gareth whistled, causing the group of guys bent over the map to look up, Eddie with his back to you asked “What?” following Gareth's eyes, turning around to see you throwing your towel away and spinning around. He swallowed. Have I seen that before? I don't think so, is it new? his eyes scanned your body, cheeky thong tucked between your ass cheeks, tits pushed together round. “You sure you still set on this marriage thing? Cuz if not I’ll happily take her off your hands. Get her on her knees for me.” Eddie turned back around to see Gareth grinning.

“Alright that's enough” Eddie lunged “No!” Gareth screeched as he ducked and took off towards you all, scuttling between plastic lounge chairs to stand behind yours which you now occupied. Eddie stopped by your feet as Gareth hopped from side to side “What’s going on?” you asked confused, other girls chiming in as Eddie matched Gareth's movements “If you say one more word I will personally see to it that you're six feet under by the end of the day” Eddie gritted through his teeth. “Eddie!” you shouted, shocked at his words.

Gareth suddenly became bold “Nah you're too much of a softy” he grinned as he stilled and leaned over the back of your chair, making a show of peeping down you to look at your tits “HEY! Stop looking at my wife!” he shouted, making you turn in confusion to look up at Gareth who quickly disappeared out of view as he ran again. Eddie followed him shouting “You wanna see how much of a softy I am?!” and just like that both of them were out of sight.

You turned back to the rest “What was that?” they all shrugged telling you how they had no clue, you sighed and stood up walking over to Steve. “Can you tell me what's going on?” you crossed your arms, sweet Steve looking you directly into the eye as he awkwardly murmured “Uh Gareth said some things that upset Eddie so” he shrugged “What did he say?” you frowned “Uh you don't wanna know” Steve brought a hand up to rub at his stubble. Rolling your eyes you walked off in search of Eddie, who was now running through a children's pool.

“Eddie!” you shouted sternly causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to you “Come here” you stated frustrated. Eddie turned to Gareth who also stood frozen, back to you, to Gareth and finally back to you. He sighed and trudged towards you.

“What the hell is going on?” you crossed your arms again, watching as Gareth faking nonchalance walked off behind him. “Gareth uh was just annoying me” he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck “So you chase him?” you inquired “Well yeah” Eddie turned to give Gareth an angry glare as he neared the group again. He set his gaze back onto you, your facial expression telling him that that wasn't an answer and urging him to explain “Ugh, he, he just kept saying some things, and I told him to stop and he still didn't” he set his hands onto your hips as he looked down on you.

“What stuff?” you asked exasperated, Eddie opened his mouth “And don’t tell me I don’t want to know” you held a finger up to him, his mouth closed again, you could see his brain working to think of something to say “Just, well some things about your body” your face softened into scared hurt, Eddie understood instantly that you though Gareth had been making fun of you, your size, but he didnt know how to explain “Fuck sake, he kept saying how he was gonna” he closed his eyes annoyed “Fuck you and shit” he breathed.

The snort that left your throat caused him to open them again “Baby, just because he says that doesn't mean it's gonna happen” you placed a soft hand on his cheek. Immediately his mind brought up Greg, stupid fucking Greg who had him doubting himself. -doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen. He softened against your touch, nothing was going to happen, not with Greg, not with Gareth, not with anybody. “I know” he sighed, more of an admittance to himself “I just don't like him talking to you about that” he continued as he stepped closer to you, leaning further into your touch “Yeah well he's a pig, but it's just harmless stupid jokes baby” you leant up on your toes to give him a kiss.

“I’m only for you remember” you held your hand up to him, wiggling your fingers up to show off your engagement ring and wedding band.

Eddie hummed, why was he ever worried? You were his, you were married to him, had his babies, you’d been with him since you were 16 and him 17 for god's sake. Maybe it was the time spent together that had him worrying you had gotten bored of him, but no, it was the time together that only made the two of you stronger. You’d always been attached at the hip, stuck to each other like glue since his first senior year. Yeah you had your rough patches but you always found your way back to each other in the end.

Taking your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it before kissing your lips. “Now come on, you can buy me a gelato cuz it's too damn hot out here” you grinned as you took his hand. “Mm know something that's hotter” he snapped the elastic at your hip against your skin as he captured your lips in a kiss again.

Rejoining the group you stood with Eddie behind you, whose hands wrapped around your waist as his chin dropped to your shoulder. “Gareth, you're disgusting” you sneered “Anybody want ice cream?” you grinned to the rest, Eddie snorted behind you as the rest laughed. Soon enough you were back in your lounge chair leaning onto Eddie's chest as you sat between his thighs, happily eating your gelato while talking to Tracy, Ariana and Max.

You had so much fun going on slides with Eddie and the kids, throwing Roxette around in the water, your two girls fighting to get the other off each parents shoulders, slurping on ice cream, chatting with everyone and it wasn't as hard as you'd all though getting each kid into their respective car and away from the fun, all exhausted from the day and ready to go home. Dinner had been munching on whatever snacks there were around the house as kids were put to bed by nightfall.

“Damn forgot to brush my teeth” Eddie sighed as he walked into the bedroom with a towel low on his hips, tattoos on display under the same gold light Eddie had seen you in. “Ok well I’m dying for a shower so you're gonna have to do that while I’m in there” you told him as you brushed past him in a throw over beach dress, bathing suit still on. You didn't see Eddie grin behind your back as you clutched your toiletry bag on your way down the hall, quickly snapping up his things before following you.

“Oh I don't mind” he breathed as he caught up to you, you turned, rolling your eyes at him playfully as you pushed open the door, locking it after letting Eddie through, “Think I can join you?” he grinned down at you as the hand not clutching his toothbrush and toothpaste came to rest on your hip “Pretty sure you just showered baby” you smiled as you pulled away from him, pulling your dress over your head as Eddie flung his things into the sink. “Mm can’t be too clean sweetheart” he smirked as he crowded you from behind. “I’ll let you join me if you just think about this first” you turned around “You really wanna have sex for the first time in a shower in a home that's not even ours?” you began pulling the straps of your bathing suit down.

Eddie looked off into the distance thinking it over “No you're right” he sighed “Wait wait wait, you're saying we're gonna have sex?” His eyes found you eagerly as you stripped of your bathing suit and stepped into the shower, looking back with a cheeky smirk. Eddie groaned and fell back against the sink as you turned the water off. Fuck… YES! It was happening! It was really fucking happening!

You pulled the shower curtain closed, putting you out of view as Eddie turned and began brushing his teeth. He sat down on the toilet lid waiting for you to finish and it felt like the time droned on forever, even though it was just 10 minutes. His head perked up excitedly as you stepped out, reaching for your folded towel on the counter and wrapping yourself up in it. “Ugh fuck you’re so sexy” Eddie breathed against your ear as he wrapped around you from behind, you giggled as you picked up your stuff and unlocked the door. Walking slowly down the hall Eddie pressed his painfully hard cock against you, the evidence of the daydreaming he had been doing while you were in the shower.

“Can't wait to get my hands on you” he whispered as you made your way down the hall. Eddie wasted absolutely no time as you got to your room, pulling the towel off you and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes roaming the various ink splatters littered over your body, shining oh so beautifully in the dim light of the room, soaking in every inch of your undeniably perfect body. “Funny I’m usually the loud one but I have a sneaking suspicion you might beat me to it this time” you grinned as you let his towel fall to the floor. “Oh do you now?” his hands went down to grab a handful of your ass “Mhm you're gonna have to be quiet” you whispered as he captured your lips in a kiss.

Blindly he led you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the mattress, falling onto it, instinctively spreading your legs to make room for Eddie. “Fuck” he made an audible groan as his hard cock came in contact with you slick wet folds, pressing into you. “Ugh fuck I’m not gonna last long baby” he breathed as he broke apart from you “Would be surprised if you did” you panted as Eddies lips began kissing down your jaw and throat, lingering on occasion to suck harsh bruises into your skin, more than on occasion, he seemed to be doing it with every kiss.

You let out a breathless moan as his lips wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking lightly as his hand came up to give similar attention to the other. Two metal balls cold on his muscle as he licked at your pierced nips. He didn’t hover there long though, he continued his descent kissing down your body till he slid to his knees on the floor, hands wrapping strong around your hips to pull you to the edge as he kissed your things.

“Ughhhh fuck I’ve missed this” he groaned as he spread your folds “Missed sex or missed staring at my pussy?” You grinned down at him as you sat up on your elbows, he looked up at you mischievously “Both” and without warning he dove in, licking a broad strip from your hole up to your clit. Your head fell back as a moan ripped through you, you know Eddie had taken to pleasuring himself but above not doing anything with Eddie you weren’t doing anything alone, the feeling of Eddie's warm tongue rolling through you a second time was almost overwhelming.

A third long lick before he focused on your clit, shorter even licks right in the nub had you gripping the sheets. His lips wrapped around you, sucking hard as his tongue flicked up and down, your hand came to snake between his damp curls and tug harshly causing Eddie to groan as he went faster.

“Shit baby, we- we gotta be quiet” you forced out a strained whisper between pants as the vice grip on Eddie's roots tightened, all Eddie did was hum in response as one of the hands snaked around the backs of your thighs holding you to him lifted. The hand that had previously been gripping onto the bed sheets for purchase whipped away to hold a tight fist against your lips, biting down hard on your knuckles as you felt a long thick finger slip easily into you.

“Mm fuck” you whined against it as he pushed a second in, pumping in and out furiously as his tongue flicked at an angry pace. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something a harsh knock sounded at the door. Startling both you and Eddie as he pulled his mouth off you, head dropping down to rest his head on your mound “You gotta be fucking kidding me” he gritted through his teeth.

You took a deep sigh as you slackened your grip on his hair, other hand coming down to the sheets to half push yourself up. “Hang on baby, mommy’ll be right there” you called strained to the door as Eddie knocked his head on your mound, the hair tickling his forehead, fingers still deep inside you. “Uh it’s just me, Steve” a deep voice sounded from the other side.

“Oh” you fell back down on the bed, “Uh yeah?” you managed to even out your voice as you spoke, “No no don’t come in!” You shouted as you saw the doorknob turn, hand held out in the direction of the door as if to stop him. You sighed as it flung back into place “Uh I was just looking for Eddie” he tried keeping his voice down as he called through the door “What do you want?” Eddie hollered as he raised his head, irritation dripping from his voice “I was just gonna talk to you about uh my car, we talked about it earlier”

“Yeah yeah I’ll take a look at it tomorrow” he set his chin pushing down onto the sparse hair on your mound again as he looked over to the door Aalright great I was just-“ “Steve I’ll be knuckle deep in your car tomorrow right know I’m knuckle deep in something else” he called, the offended gasp you let out as you scolded him “Edward!” with a light slap to the back of his head only had him grinning up at you smug. “Haha alright dude see ya tomorrow” Steve laughed on the other side as he heard the smack “Ok BYE Steve!” Eddie almost shouted.

You both listened intently as you heard heavy footsteps lead away from the door “Eddie rea- ooooh shit” you broke off as Eddie set his lips back onto you, pumping his fingers in and out of you equally as fast if not faster than he had before, resuming his tackle on your clit as if nothing had happened.

With each pump he worked faster and faster until his hand was working at an angry pace to get you to the edge, your hand pulled harder at his hair as you writhed beneath him turning to sink your teeth into the comforter. You whined as you felt that familiar feeling boil in your core, only egging Eddie on as he sucked harder.

“Fuck I’m-I’m c-close” you whined as your hips inched away from him, Eddies fingers sinking into your skin in a bruising grip and forcing you back to him “Shit shit shit!” was all the warning as a spray of warm liquid hit him in the face, causing him to reel back. Watching in awe as you drenched his neck, chest and hand into a furious squirt.

Within seconds it slowed to a stop as well as Eddie's fingers as he watched you panting heavily in front of him. Eyes bulging he watched as the hand that had previously ripped away from his hair to grip the sheets and fall slack next to you as you sunk into the mattress panting heavily. “Holy fuck” he breathed as he himself panted, getting to his feet and looming over you, hand falling out to keep him raised off you as his other held your shoulder gently, smoothing over your skin as he went to cup your cheek, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, pausing your panting to kiss him back.

The skin previously dried from his shower now soaking pressing against you as he fell onto you, both hands coming up to hold you in place as he pulled you to him, head lifting from the bed to meet him. The long kiss broke apart and you fell back onto the bed, breathing slowing as you gathered yourself.

“Scootch up baby” Eddie whispered as he pushed himself off you “Hm?” You hummed as you opened your eyes, hands pushing into the patterned throw as you pushed yourself off the foot of the bed and up to land against the pillows. Eddie crawled up the bed, hand pushing softly to part your knees and make room for him.

Finally your daze melted away as you looked up to find Eddie on his calves, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as he stared down at you in awe, slowly pumping himself, each stroke revealing his angry red tip dribbling a hefty amount of precum.

You chuckled breathlessly “Don’t want me to return the favour?” Eddie shook his head furiously as he toppled over to rest on top of you “Uh uh” he breathed and without warning lined himself up with you thrusting himself into the hilt. He let out a loud groan while you gasped in surprise. “Aaahahahuuuuh fuck” he complained breathlessly as the hand on his cock slithered up to grab at your hip.

“Shiiit feel so good baby” his breath fanned against your ear as he buried his face in your shoulder, setting a slow pace of his hips, lips attaching back to your neck. The low whine of your throat only made Eddie speed his hips up “Baby, s-s’too big” Eddie laughed as you whined “Mm been a while?” he pulls his face out of the crook of your neck to grin down at you. As you roll your eyes Eddie plants both of his hands just below your armpits, leaning down to kiss you as he places one hard thrust into your hips, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you he liked to call the danger zone for some stupid reason, actually the reason being that it either caused you incredibly pleasure, or incredible pain depending on what position you were in. This particular position was the former, and it showed as you moaned loudly against him.

Braking off the kiss he moved a hand to plaster over your mouth as he thrusted another hard thrust, somehow managing to hit even deeper inside you, his head nuzzling back into the crook of your neck to leave bruises all along the expanse of your throat. Muffling the second loud moan as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mouth dropping in pure pleasure. Eddie hummed in agreement as he thrusted again “Mhm yeah thats the spot, fuck” he was now setting a slow pace of hard thrusts, each time inching deeper inside you as your hands pulled angrily at the roots of his locks.

Your left hand moved from the grip near his neck to circle around his arm, fingers pressing harshly into the skin of his shoulder, nails digging in to leave small crescent moons into the inked slightly tanned skin. The same tattoo which had Eddie moaning in something other than pleasure as he first lay down on his back after a five hour appointment, complaining that he had to lay on his stomach till it healed.

Now as you touched the ink Eddie only groaned as your nails scratched at his shoulder blades, hard thrust transitioning to quick smacks of his hips against yours, skin slapping against skin. That would have been the only sound apart from moans that would have been heard if it weren't for “Eddie the bed” you panted as the old wood and springs began squeaking with each of Eddie's movements. “You know how many beds I had to listen to rattling last night?” he pulled away from his attack on your reddening neck to stare down at you, panting between each word “Yeah it's our turn” he dove back in to suck hard at your collarbone.

His hips were now at a furious pace, how he hadn't cum already he had absolutely no clue but somehow he had managed to hold off. That was until he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him, the burning in his belly he’d been ignoring became reality all too quickly. Hips working faster as he pulled off your collar to look back at you, hand still collapsed over your mouth, neck craned back into the pillow to match your eyes practically looking at the back wall. “Fuck ba- shit” he broke off in a groan as you squeezed harder around him “S-Sweetheart, n-not gonna last loOoong!” he tried to whisper but failed miserably as your ankles locked behind him pressing him further into you.

Bed squeaking, skin slapping, throats groaning and moaning in blinding pleasure echoed all around the room as Eddie's movement stopped, bottoming out inside you in a loud groan as hot spurts of cum painted your walls.

For minutes both of you just lay panting, a jumble of limbs as both of you tried to catch your breath. It was nice, lying tangled up with Eddie, naked and sweaty, totally counteracting your shower but it was nice, until it got too hot. You pushed Eddie off you, a reluctant grunt sounding from the back of his throat as he pulled out “Where you going?” he whispered as he felt a dip in the bed next to him while he lay eyes closed on his back. “Gonna open a window it's boiling in here” you stepped cautiously over the floorboards as you opened the old window, sighing as cool night air hit your skin. You looked back to see Eddie fucked out and spent with his eyes still closed on the bed and awkwardly picked up one of the towels discarded on the floor and whipped yourself off.

Eddie peeked his eyes open as he saw you walk over to the duffle bags, dropping both towels on the bench “You-you getting dressed?” there was a hint of nervousness to his voice as he sat up, as if the prospect of you putting clothes on was like you closing yourself off again. “Relax I’m just putting on some underwear” you chuckled as you fished out a pair of forest green brazilians and pulled them over your legs.

Eddie fell back against the bed again, laughing as he felt a pair of clean boxers hit his face. Pulling them on he hopped back onto the bed with a wide grin, beaming at you like a child receiving a bag of candy or their favourite toy. “What's got you so happy?” you chuckle as you nestle up to him, pushing his hands away as he was about to wrap them around you, turning to lay on your side and rest your head on his chest instead of his face buried in your shoulder.

“Oh you know my stock shares went up” his joke earned a laugh as he held your waist and trailed his fingers up and down your arm. The giggle you let out had his smile cracking wider and his arms holding you to him tighter. “Yup I stiiill got it” he smirked as you slapped his chest lightly.

For once it seemed neither of you were woken by any distractions, Eddie roused slowly face mushed against your hair as he pulled back to see that during the night the both of you must have moved and he was now back to spooning you just like every other night. As the numb feeling of sleep tingled away he squeezed his fingers to find his hand cupping your breast. He chuckled as he heard the low whine from your throat, the sound jogging his memory.

Oh fuck, hed gotten to touch you, fuck you, even made you squirt! That wasn't even something normal when you were having sex on a regular basis. Memories of being inside you, a tangle of legs, you pulling at his hair, sucking at your neck, all swam to the forefront of his mind. Leaning over he found himself stunned by the amount of deep purple and brown hickies that littered your skin, he couldn't even count them on his fingers Jesus Christ. Dark marks going all the way from just below your jaw all the way down to an inch or so away from your nipples, when did he even have time to do all that?

He was torn from his thoughts as you stirred, turning in his grasp to lay on your back, eyes slowly opening to see Eddie hovering above you, dopey grin painting his face. Your hands went up to the hem of the comforter when you frowned, lifting it up you peeked at what was hidden, frown dissipating to realisation as you whispered an “Oh right” which had Eddie snorting and dropping his forehead on to yours.

“Mm morning handsome” you hummed as his lips pulled away from a deep passionate kiss “Morning beautiful” he croaked, head pulling back in shock “Beautiful” he croaked again, voice strained, he cleared his throat “Beautiful, there we go” he laughed as you giggled, those sweet noises once again having his heart doing flips in his chest.

“So beach day again or you wanna do something else? Dustin mentioned a hike” Eddie rolled off you to lie on his back as you propped yourself up on an elbow next to you “Hmm well I am torn, can either watch you hopp around in that sad little excuse for a bathing suit you wore yesterday or stare at you ass in those bike shorts, it really is a tough decision” he grinned down at you, snorting you told him “Well my regular bikini is all dry now so don't worry you don't have to watch me hopp around in that other one” Eddie shrugged “Probably for the best, not easy hiding a boner in swim trunks, trust me” he widened his eyes.

Ophelia and Roxette strolled in not much later to find Eddie getting dressed as you had wandered off to the bathroom.

“Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like 90° outside” Lucas threw his hands out as he plopped down next to you on the couch, everyone eating an assortment of fruit, cereal and toast. Eddie snorted from the other side of the table which had both of you turning towards him, Lucas with a confused frown and you with a warning glare “I’m just cold” you explained weakly “How on earth are you cold?” Mike sat down on the arm of the chair El was occupying. “Uh I just am?” “Oh come on, just take it off” Mike shrugged.

“I-I’d rather not” you tried taking a bite of your toast to signal the end of the conversation, “Yeah she's gotta hide those massive hickies” Gareth sauntered over to hang of the back of Eddie's armchair taking an animalistic bit of a baconstrip “Not doing a good job by the way” you pulled the hood up further around your neck as the people around the living room area all turned to you. “Whats a hickey?” Jonathan's son Charlie piped up “Oh it's like a-” “Gareth” you turned to him to glare at him too who held his hands up in defeat “It's just a bruise sweetie, like when you fall and hurt yourself” Charlotte waddled over to pat her son on the head, everyone on the couch scooching up to make room for the pregnant lady.

“Eh no one cares babes just take your hoodie off, you must be boiling” Charlotte smiled happily as she waved you off next to you, sighing you set your plate down and pulled the hoodie over your head, “Jesus christ!” the room erupted in laughter as near 20 hickeys in a steady flow down to the hem of your tanktop was revealed. You forced a straight tight lipped smile and gestured your hands out. Gareth slapped Eddie on his shoulder as he laughed “Didn’t know you had it in ya big guy” chuckling he stood up straight behind him “Mm thanks” Eddie grumbled as he finished the rest of his cereal.

“Seriously what did you guys do yesterday?” Mike laughed, “Didn't you hear them?” Gareth imitated a high pitched version of a bed squeaking as you curled in on yourself. Roxette hurried over and climbed into you lap as she laughed “What is uncle Gareth doing?” the supposed uncle in question was in the midst of thrusting his hips back and forth, thankfully not making any lude imitations of moans “He's just being silly” you explained as you wrapped your arms around her. “Oh god” you sighed amused as Charlie and Lucas's son Billy copied Gareth's movements “Would you please refrain from teaching my kid that stuff? He’s four” Charlotte complained as she grabbed her son by the arm and yanked him to her “Yeah dude stop, no one wants to see that shit” Lucas chimed in.

Soon enough almost everyone was outside gathered by the beach, save from Charlotte who went inside to rest, Jonathan following her and trusting Dustin to keep an eye on his kids. Blankets and towels were spread out in the sand and grass as the same group from the first day lounged on the chairs now back in their place from bonfire night. Kids splashed in the water as well as adults, some lying tanning in the sun or forcing sunscreen onto stroppy children.

Roxette and Ophelia ran up jumping excitedly as you pulled your shorts down to tan, begging you to come jump off the jetty with them. After some faux complaining and getting a rise out of Roxy you agreed, laughing as they ran off in front of you. Walking past Eddie caught his attention immediately, the rim of the beer bottle he was holding falling away from his lips as it seemed that the world stopped around him and watching you move in slow motion. Teeth showing in a happy laugh, fingers wrapped around the hem on each side of your bikini bottoms, securing them to your hips, thick thighs rubbing against each other with each step, tits in a soft bounce from your movements. Faded ink tattoos mixed with fresher ones glittering in the sunlight as it sat high up in the sky. The quick one second of a flash of a smile towards him was the equivalent of an hour as you turned and continued walking.

The laughter and chatter died around him as if he was submerged under water simply listening to the sounds of the ocean. In the back of his mind he thought he may have cooled down with his rapid heart beat and tensing in his thighs whenever he was around you in anything close to the line of modesty after you’d finally had sex, but no. If anything his heart was beating even faster than it had before in his life, not even the muffling of his chest could hide the beats from sounding out around him, much less hide the feeling of his swim shorts tightening around him.

Sitting up straight from his wide legged slackened position he stared in awe at the plush thickness of your thighs, to your concealed mound up to the soft rolls of your tummy, slight jiggle of the fat around your arms and bounce of your tits, and Oh. My. God. As he zoned in on the particular area which consumed his mind most of the time he saw those faint outlines of hearts, pressing against the lavender fabric, had it not been for the sun beating down on you he most definitely would have seen the shape of your hardened nipples framed so perfectly by those little diamond encrusted silver hearts.

Since this morning you had switched your nipple piercings, at some point, without his knowledge, and he knew you knew those little hearts were his absolute favourite of all the body modifications you had. She’s put those on for me. The hearts disappeared out of his view as you veered off to the small wooden dock, the globes of your ass swaying from side to side with every step you took, following your girls down as they desperately jumped up and down in waiting for you.

Just as quick as the moment came, it was gone, as he watched you disappear under the surface of the water, cannonballing in with a large splash, Roxette eagerly on your tail, copying you and cannonballing in only a few inches away from your face. You laughed as you splashed her back, clapping as Ophelia too resurfaced.

“Yo you listening to me?” Gareth slapped Eddie's arm in an attempt to regain his attention, not having noticed you walking by, he turned away from the small dots of your heads floating in the distance. “Hm? Oh right Zander yeah what about him?” Gareth repeated his comment about how their boss at the auto shop had slipped up with a recent purchase that was vital in the repair of a snazzy Rolls Royce he had been working on.

Eddie's attention drifted way off from the conversation again as he saw you swim up to the ladder and pull yourself up. Water dripping off your body as you shoved your hair out of your face. Time slowed again as you dipped your fingers into the hem of your bottoms, pulling at the fabric to lay back properly over your ass from the water forcing them up to nestle between your cheeks as you jumped into the lake. The action wasn’t graceful, in fact it was far from it, but from the edge of the beach where Eddie sat currently having an out of world experience it was the sexiest, hottest thing he had ever witnessed you doing. Even though he couldn't see it he just knew the skin of your ass would jiggle as the elastic snapped back against it.

“Seriously dude!” This time Gareth shoved him, almost spilling the beer in the bottle over his lap, most definitely making the little situation with the raging boner straining against the mesh a lot worse had it gone further than sloshing around the neck.

Somehow he managed to regain focus and partake in a conversation which mostly consisted of slagging his boss off, coupled with a few swares which had several moms turning their heads in a glare. And somehow he managed to calm down and let his mind focus on other things as his cock slowly softened beneath the black and blue fabric.

“So Edward Munson” Steve grinned as he walked over the sand and slapped his friend on the shoulder “Don't let Nancy hear your wife calling you that, she'll start walking around calling me Stephen” he grimaced as Eddie turned from Gareth chuckling at his comment. “Seems something you did was successful” he walked over and sank down into the chair Gareth previously occupied, walking off to answer Jeff calling him over.

“Seems so” Eddie raised his bottle in a mock cheer as Steve uncapped his own “Seriously dude you gotta tell me how the fuck you manage to hold out that long” he leaned in, deepening his voice so no one could overhear. “What hold out for six months? a hellofalot of polaroids and dirty magazines and taking alleged showers” Eddie’s smirk matched Steves as he chuckled, Steve let out a loud obnoxious snort “No, bro, you're like 40 years old-” “41” Eddie grimaced as he cut him off “Right well 41, I’ve never in my life heard a bed make so much noise, you were going at it for like 30 minutes with constant eek eek eek” it was Eddies turn to snort now as Steve copied Gareth's form of imitating the bed squeaking.

“Do 50 hour weeks at an auto repair shop and maybe you'll catch up to me” Steve laughed as he spread his legs and sunk further into the wood. Ophelia ran up dripping cold water all over him as she hung off the armrest of his chair “What's up rugrat?” Eddie ruffled her already tousled and drenched hair “Dad wanna come play princess with me, Mercy, Louise and Emma? Roxette doesn't want to, says it's for girls. Even though she is one which I don't understand” Ophelia mumbled the last sentence as a low rumble left Eddies chest in the form of a deep chuckle “Not right now sweetheart, daddys talking to Steve right now but maybe later” he offered an apologetic smile towards his daughter. Even though he loved her, he wasn't quite fond of having her smear her moms makeup on his face as he wore a blanket for a dress, he was banished from wearing your dresses since he almost flashed Roxette while jumping on the couch.

“Okeeey” Ophelia grumbled and ran off to join Steve and Jonathans daughters who were already pulling at Charlottes arms. His gaze turned from his eldest to find you stepping off the jetty and making your way through the sand towards him. It was almost uncharacteristic how quickly he switched from trying not to upset his daughter to hungrily watch you in motion. Sure he drifted off and lost focus sometimes, ok a lot, but this wasn't something normal for him, he didn't even hear as Steve barked out a laugh beside him at the change in demeanour, before he even got a chance to let his eyes drift up and down your body you were stood in front of him, lips moving as you talked but not a single word registering to him.

He straightened his back and fought with himself as he desperately tried not to let his eyes roam your body and instead look into your eyes giving you his full attention “Huh sorry what?” Steve barked another laugh beside him, you giggled “I just said hi” you reached over behind him to grab your towel on the back of his chair, “Oh hi” Eddie breathed as your tits hovered two inches away from his nose, suddenly all the air had left the sphere around earth and he had to sputter to find his breath.

A pressing matter swam to the front of his mind and ripped him out of his trance “Where's Rocky?” he whipped his head around to look behind you and scan the beach “She’s inside, Arianas showing her the wonders of The Notorious B.I.G” you ran the towel over your head, squeezing the water out of your hair “Great first Tupac now B.I.G, you know I really had hope for her, she was listening to Mötley Crue and everything” the brown bottle raised to his lips as he took a sip of the now luke warm beer, he scrunched his face up in disgust and propped the drink into the sand.

“Hah relax babe, she still obsessed with Mötley Crue, not that I’m very happy about it, the day she starts fangirling over them is the day I divorce you” Eddie scrunched his face up again, soft lines forming on his nose as his brows furrowed “Im kidding!” you held your hands up. With your towel in your hand and arms out by your sides Eddie was fighting for dear life to keep eye contact with you, if only he had his sunglasses on.

“Oh yo the car” Steve cut into the admittedly mundane but to Eddie, it was a heart squeezing conversation with his wife “Oh right!” Eddie made to stand up as you moved out of the way, eagerly you took his place as the seat next to you vacated with Steve standing to join him.

It was your turn to oggle now.

For the first time since December, watching Eddie pull at the neck of his threadbare t-shirt was exhilarating. Unbeknownst to you you were falling into the exact same trance Eddie had been, where the world fell silent and time stopped. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun bleached fabric float over his skin, inch by inch revealing that faint happy trail and that toned v-line pointed down like an arrow towards the price you were now dying to win over. Toned abs revealed themselves slowly next to a set of sleek inked hips, twigs and vines littered with roses winding down the v-line, roses matching the ones that sat under your right breast, peeking out from under your bra. A demon head and a spider showed on his left peck, hovering above a large majestic dragon protecting its four ribbed eggs, each symbolising a different person he admired and loved deeply, a constant reminder that he never wanted to lose them. Ophelia, Roxette, Wayne and you.

Tattoo sleeves windled from his shoulders down to his wrists, puppet masters, bats, more dragons, daggers, dice and so much more all woven perfectly together resting under the surface of the soon to be golden brown skin. Formerly pale now tanning shining under the brightness of the sky, reflection of the water sparkling at his sides.

It was your turn to not register a word as Eddie spoke “We’re just gonna go have a look at Steve’s car, I’ll be back in a bit” you felt your neck twist as you followed the collections of tattoos on chiselled muscles past you where a hand dropped his shirt onto the arm of the chair and back behind you, leaning in your chair and twisting uncomfortably to follow the wide spread wings connecting to a female form, organs on show and hands displayed to its side, a tribute to his musical hero and favourite album In Utero by Nirvana.

You felt like a teenager caught staring at her crush as you whipped around to look back at the beach when both Steve and Eddie turned to look back at you.

“Dude she was totally checking you out?” Steve slapped him on his chest as they tread through the grass “What? Who?” Eddie turned to see you quickly pull back in your chair “Who do you think idiot?”.

Part 2!

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wardenparker · 7 days

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 14

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Nothing, really. Some conversations about money and clothing but this chapter is fairly smooth sailing. Summary: The wedding planning begins in earnest! Notes: For anyone following along on the chronic pain escapades, this coming week is surgery week! Hopefully this will be the last mountain to climb in the way of handling the issues at hand and we'll have just a little bit of time with smoother sailing.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Planning a lunch for the day after the engagement party was very intentional, not wanting people to be short of sleep or hungover after celebrating the night before. What your mother has planned in as casual a manner as possible is a lunch for family and friends in the White House residence to help start the planning of your wedding. It’s favorite foods and enjoying yourselves. At least, that is the plan.

It’s noon on the dot when you and Agent Sisson walk into the Blue Room, and he happily leaves you to your lunch party. Agent Bailey has a much-deserved day off today and your secondary detail is just fine with leaving you to be guarded by the standing White House detail.

“Birdie, your party last night was magnificent.” Your mother rises quickly and moves to hug you. She had enjoyed the relaxed and festive atmosphere.

“I’m glad you had fun, Mom.” The hug is tight and short, but you squeeze each other before letting go. “We thought it went really well, too. The caterers were incredible.”

“They were.” She agrees. “Now, Marcus’s parents should be here any moment. Your father has already talked Matthew into a round of golf after lunch.” She huffs in amusement.

"Of course he did." That doesn't surprise you in the least, but you are glad to see that your father and Matthew Pike are getting along. When the Pikes had come to visit over the summer the two fathers had gotten on like gangbusters and it's continuing. "Sydney should be here soon, too. Juan is taking the baby to his mother's today for some bonding time." Looking around, there is no sign of your sister despite the table being set for the full party. 'Where's Junie?"

“She’s actually out.” Your mother tells you with a small smile. “She went out to breakfast with her new favorite person.” It’s absolutely wonderful how she has clicked with her soulmate and there is no way she would discourage that. “She gave up sleeping in to spend time with him.”

"Our little Junebug's in love." It stings a little that your baby sister won't be here for lunch and to talk about wedding things, but you definitely also understand the pull of wanting to be with your soulmate every possible moment.

“She is.” Your mother nods and touches your shoulder. “Much like you are. I expect her to come rushing in at the last minute, flustered from seeing him.”

"I guess Grammy's wedding dress is going to get a little bit of a workout." the idea makes you smile. Just the mere idea of it. Even if Junie decided she didn't want to wear the heirloom, it wouldn't truly matter. It's having the option that is meaningful.

“That is something that I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother arches a brow delicately and smiles.

"What about?" You ask tentatively, desperately hoping she's not about to say that something has happened to it or that she doesn't want you to wear it for some odd reason.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about all of your weddings.” She admits. “I was thinking about offering Alex some of the train, if one of you wishes to remove it, in order to create a vest or something to be a part of his own wedding ensemble with he and David eventually marry. But I wanted to see what you and Junie think, since it will one day be held to pass down to your daughters.”

"Mom." Your eyes water immediately, one hand going to your chest, and you're nodding before you can even say anything else. "I think that might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love it, and Junie will too, I just know it."

“And maybe it will become a tradition with David and Alex’s kids, if they decide to have some.” She is so grateful you like the idea.

"It actually works perfectly with an idea I had," you admit, but a sound from down the hall cuts you off and you grin when you recognize the commotion. "I'll tell everyone together. That's definitely Sydney and Selena that I hear."

“Oh my god, I’m in the White House!” Selena cannot even contain the squeal as the door opens to admit them. “I’m such a history nerd, I just can’t.”

"We'll finally get you on a full White House tour one of these days, I promise." Selena has been meaning to and meaning to book a place on a tour since she moved to DC, but she's been busy and just hasn't nailed down the time. You file the reminder away for yourself and in the meantime you throw your arms around both friends. "I'm so glad you guys are here, oh my god."

“Where else would we be?” Sydney scoffs. “A private invitation to the White House is being framed and hung up on my wall.”

"There's going to be a bunch of them over the next year." Your laugh is full of relief, though, and you usher them both into the room. "Selena, you met my mother last night, right?"

“To be honest, I was too nervous to approach her.” She admits with a rueful shake of her head, obviously a little intimidated by the President of the United States being your mother.

"She's an absolute nerd," you assure Selena with a laugh. You grab her hand and tug her toward the center of the Blue Room. "Mom, you can see Syd's baby pictures in just a second." It's so incredibly sweet that in the last two minutes your mother has clamored to see pictures of baby Constance, but you bring Selena forward with you and smother a laugh. "I want you to meet Selena Pike. She's one of Marcus's cousins and we got attached at the hip while I was in Dallas."

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Your mother has several different smiles, but the one she gives Selena is a genuine, friendly smile that is reserved for family. “Don’t shake my hand.” She shakes her head when Selena offers a more formal greeting. “Family hugs.”

“Oh my god.” Selena breathes, in a way that makes it very clear that the full sentence is actually oh my god, I’m hugging the President, but she keeps her composure well enough and is beaming when she pulls back. “It’s such an honor,” she gushes, giddy and not caring to hide it.

“Well hopefully I won’t disappoint.” She gives Selena a wink and smiles as she practically vibrates.

“Absolutely not.” Selena assures her, certain that there won’t be any politics talked today beyond the invitation list. Today is about the wedding.

“While I know it will not be up to snuff with the amazing caterers that Birdie had last night, I hoped that having lunch would be an easy way to start things off.” Your mother informs them.

"I can't imagine your chef making anything less than stellar." Donna Pike strides into the room with a glowing smile, with your little sister by her side. "I'm so sorry. We got caught up for a minute. June was showing me something in the China Room."

June trails behind your future mother in law, beaming with the innocent hope to someone newly in love. “Sorry, I saw her at the gate and escorted her in.”

"Don't be sorry!" You sweep in and hug them both one at a time, glad to be able to squeeze the life out of your sister and see Donna happily smiling away. Everyone is here and today is meant to be relaxed and joyous.

“Our bride to be is looking radiant this morning.” Donna observes slyly. “Hopefully that means you have a clear plan on what you wish?”

"Marcus and I have talked through some of our early ideas," you pat your purse with pride. "I have a notebook dedicated to wedding planning and thought we could start talking things through over lunch."

“Very efficient.” Donna praises with an encouraging smile. “Now- let me go ahead and say that this is your show. What you want - goes.” She promises. “I will offer an opinion when you want one, but I would never want to be the kind of mother-in-law that views this as ‘her wedding’.”

"This is the White House's wedding." It isn't something that you regret or dread, though, and you turn to your mother with a smile. "And we're going to honor that as best we can, while still doing things our way."

“As long as you are happy with the results.” Your mother interjects. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and we can start talking?” You suggest, nodding to the table that has been set. “I don’t know about you guys but I slept late and didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah….slept.” Junie snorts with a knowing grin. “You and Markie couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the end of the night.”

“It was their engagement party,” Sydney reminds Junie, laughing her way to the table. There are place cards out with everyone’s names on them and little bud cases with a few flowers at each seat. “They’re allowed to be sickeningly cute. It comes with the territory.”

“I know.” She grins. “I’m happy for you, even if it’s eye-rollingly cliché.”

“Says the girl who basically came skipping into the room from spending the morning with her own soulmate.” You sit down at the table where your name is marked, delighted to have Syd on one side of you and Donna on the other. “You guys were sickeningly cute last night, too.”

She rolls her eyes and bites her lips for a moment before she sticks her tongue out at you.

"And on that note..." Like the big sister you are, you snicker playfully before turning your eyes across the table. "So Mom, what's for lunch?"

“Poached salmon with a lemon dill sauce, couscous and root vegetables .” Your mother hum. “Started off by a summer strawberry salad with candied pecans.”

There is a collective, happy groan from everyone at the table, and seconds later a member of the White House kitchen staff comes into the room with pitchers of water and iced tea for the table and another follows with the salad course. Dining in the White House is always a bit like a dance, and you love watching Selena's face as she experiences it for the very first time.

Junie looks towards you with a happy face as the salads are being brought in. “Have you decided to wear Grammie’s dress?”

"Starting with the big questions right away?" Well, you can't blame her for that. It will affect her, too, ultimately. "I have. I love Grammie's dress and I've dreamt about wearing it for years. But, Mom had an idea. And it would affect you, too."

“How would it affect me?” She asks curiously, picking up her fork and thanking the staff as they set a salad on her place setting.

"Mom had an idea to alter the dress," you explain as everyone starts to eat. "The train on Grammie's dress is long, and there is enough fabric there that...if we agreed we both wanted to...we could have a professional trim the skirt and use the fabric from the train to make a waistcoat for Alex for when he and David finally decide to get married."

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” Instantly in love with the sentiment, she nods eagerly. “I agree, completely.”

"I know we like different styles." The fact that she is on board with this immediately has both you and your mother beaming with bright smiles, and you sip your iced tea happily in between breaths. "But I like dresses a bit shorter than you do, and I'm taller. I bet if we had Grammie's dress taken up to be full-length on you, it would be about tea length on me."

She snorts slightly and nods. “You are taller than me, you giant.” She teases, shooting you a grin. “I love that idea. I know you’ve been mooning over a Jackie O style for a few weeks.”

“I do want to wear pearls,” you admit with a grin. Your cheeks warm with the slowly building hum of excitement that is actually starting to plan your wedding. “And Marcus and I talked about having a cake similar to the one the Kennedys had.”

“Typical.” She teases, falling in love with the idea immediately. “Do we know if the bakery that made the cake is still in operation? You would need a huge one. It could be another feather in their cap.”

“They are.” In fact, Marcus had looked it up within hours of having the thought and been nearly giddy to report it. “But they’re in Boston, so we would need to talk to them to see if they’re even able to do a cake for a DC wedding. If not, we thought we would just replicate the flavors as a nod to the original.”

Junie snorts and throws your mother a grin. “I think that a request for a wedding cake on White House stationary would be something framed and hung on the wall.” She offers, pointing her fork at her mother. “Or can that be done?”

“I’ll find out.” Your mother’s answering grin says she’ll find a way to make it happen if it is at all within her power. “If it can’t be done on White House stationary, the request will still have the First Family’s name on it.”

“We have a back up plan in case it’s unreasonable to ask,” you remind your mother. It isn’t worth throwing titles around over a cake. That’s not only silly, it would look very bad from an outside perspective.

“If it will cause an optic problem, we will handle it another way, but the wedding will be a White House function.” Your mother reminds you.

“Of course it will.” Your fork up another bite of your salad with a happy hum. “To that point: Mom, we’d like to have the ceremony in the Rose Garden if that’s okay with you.”

“Honestly?” She smiles at you. “I didn’t imagine you would want anywhere else.” She admits. “You have spent hours out there since I’ve changed my address.”

“Have you picked a date yet?” Donna asks, promoting you and Sydney to exchange a knowing smile.

“We did.” The fact that it’s starting to become a reality — this dream you’ve had for months now — makes you giddy in your seat. “Since we share so many of the same friends and family members between what would be two guest lists, Syd and Marcus and I all talked, and we’re having the wedding on September second next year. The next morning, in place of a day-after brunch, we’d like everyone to come and celebrate Constance’s birthday at the inn.”

“Oh that is wonderful!” Donna lights up and nods. “That little girl is cute as a button and her birth is wound into your engagement.”

“And,” you tilt your head to Sydney, not having formally asked her about this particular detail yet. “We’d like her to be our flower girl, too.”

Every woman in the room, including Junie, coos at the idea. Sydney nearly tears up, hormones still making her slightly over emotional when it comes to wonderful things and her daughter. “I would love that.”

“Malachi has set his tongue firmly in cheek and insists on being the ring bearer because I trust him with everything else in my life.” It had made you laugh so hard you’d doubled over when he had said it jokingly a few days ago and it’s all you’ve been able to think of since, so you and Marcus had asked him officially. “So he’ll bring her down the aisle safely. No worrying about getting her around or trying to teach a one-year-old to throw flower petals.”Top of Form

“Oh please tell me we can find a baby carrier in your wedding colors.” Sydney snorts, cackling with laughter. “I would pay money to see him strap her to his chest.”

“It shouldn’t be hard.” The thought hadn’t occurred to you but now that it has you’re fully on board. “We think we want to go with navy and gold. It should be easy to find a navy baby carrier.”

“Only if Malachi and Constance are wearing gold.” Selena chuckles. “God that will be cute.”

“We’ll make it adorable. But putting Constance in a little gold flower girl dress sounds adorable.” When everyone is done with their salads a few members of the White House staff comes back in to clear the small plates and serve lunch, which looks absolutely stunning. Not that that surprises anyone. The White House chef is remarkably talented and it makes you grateful on a very large scale that your wedding’s catering will be in good hands.

The first bite has Donna groaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.” She gushes, looking between you and your mother. “Tell me how this works.” She begs. “Do you have to pay for them yourselves or is it part of the perks of living in the White House?”

“Their salary is part of the presidential budget. The kitchen staff are White House employees, not the family’s specifically.” Your mother doesn’t mind talking a little bit of shop at the table, but she does lend Sydney a smile. “If you didn’t already have your restaurant I would have had you here in a heartbeat.”

“Anytime you wish me to cook…” Sydney promises with a grin. She’s spent many hours with your family and has cooked for them plenty of times.

“We might have to have you be a special guest chef for something.” The President smiles. She clearly already has an idea in mind. Sydney is her third daughter and she’s as proud of her as she is of you or June.

“I will cook your next inauguration dinner.” Sydney promises, lifting her glass of iced peach tea as a toast.

“I will take you up on that, young lady,” your mother teases, although everyone knows she isn’t teasing at all.

“Does your family have any special traditions?” Donna asks after a moment. “Beyond the wedding dress? Anything like a cookie table or similar?”

"We did a cookie table when Birdie's father and I got married." Your mother nods, smiling at the memory. "Our family isn't very large, so we don't have a lot of things that have been passed all around or repeated amongst cousins. My parents helped us with the down payment for a house as our wedding present but our kids have already gotten a step ahead in that respect."

“They are amazing.” She agrees with a proud nod. “I have brought something with me that is a Pike tradition.” She informs the table and makes sure she makes eye contact with you. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be continued.”

"Oh my god." Selena breathes from the other side of the table, and she puts one hand on her heart as you tear up instantly.

"I didn't know you were going to bring it," you murmur, having seen enough Pike family wedding photos to know exactly what she's talking about.

“Of course I was going to bring it.” She’s not offended, but she huffs slightly. “I remembered your grandmother’s dress and was hoping even if you decided not to wear it on your wedding day, that we could take a photo of you in the dress with the necklace.” She explains as she reaches down into her purse to pull out a very loved and worn necklace case.

When she hands you the jewelry case you set it very carefully between you on the table and open it up to be able to show Sydney, your mother, and Junie. "I did say I wanted to wear pearls, didn't I?" The necklace itself is ornate and beautiful. A three-strand pearl necklace of natural fresh water pearls in various tones and coordinated sizes that graduate gently at each end. The inner most strand has a stunning fixture of diamonds fashioned like outstretched wings. It can be worn all as one piece, as a double strand of pearls, as just a single pearl strand with the diamond fixture, or the diamond fixture can be removed altogether to become a brooch. Each Pike bride had done something different with the piece to make it her own. "It belonged to Marcus's great-grandmother," you explain to the few people at the table who have never seen the necklace before.

“It’s gorgeous.” Junie coos, falling in love with it. “It’s- oh god, it’s Cartier.” She breathes when she sees the emblem on the box. “Isn’t it?”

"My husband's grandmother was given the necklace as an engagement present," Donna explains, having been proud to wear the piece herself on her own wedding day. She had affixed the diamond brooch to her dress like a badge of honor. "She gave it to her daughter-in-law as engagement gift down the line, and it was leant out to subsequent nieces, cousins, and other granddaughters. It's become tradition for all of the Pike brides to be given the chance to wear the heirloom."

“That is such a lovely tradition.” Your mother comments, finding it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Isn't it?" It's impossible not to fall in love with the story, just like you had when Marcus had shown you the plethora of family pictures and explained the tradition to you.

“It is time to let the necklace rest in the hands of the next generation.” Donna tells you softly. “We want you to have it.”

“To…to wear it.” You clarify, eyes widening to the point of saucers as you look at your future mother-in-law beside you.

“To keep it safe.” Donna clarifies. “The cousins and nieces and nephews may ask you for it to use and as the future Pike “matriarch” I suggest always offering it when someone gets engaged, but I mean for you to keep it going forward.”

“Pike…matriarch?” It hadn’t occurred to you that that would be the case. It truly hadn’t. Marcus has so many cousins and aunts and uncles you had just assumed that that title would go elsewhere. That the responsibility of it would fall to someone else. But you? “I’m—I’m absolutely honored,” you promise her, tearing up at the table as you squeeze her hand tightly.

Smiling at you, she reaches out and touches your face softly. “I am thrilled that Marcus has found you, wonderful you.”

“I didn’t plan on crying today,” you huff, always playfully, when tears start to press at your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not when they’re tears of appreciation and joy and you can lean over to hug your fiancé’s mother tightly. “Your entire family has been so kind and so welcoming. I’m impossibly grateful to all of you.”

“It is easy to be kind when you are amazing.” She promises. “You are supposed to be in this family, it’s….well, it’s fate.” She smiles ironically.

“It is, isn’t it?” Keeping things to just a sniffle is a miracle but you manage it for now with just a dab at the corners of your eyes.

Everyone else smiles at the obvious affection between future mother in law and bride. Your mother is eternally grateful that you have been so welcomed.

“Okay, well that was unexpected.” You wipe your eyes and let yourself have one more good sniffle before looking around the table with a soft grin. “Anyone else planning on making me cry today? I’ll brace myself.”

“Not unless there’s more unexpected news?” Your mother asks, looking around the table.

"I don't think so." Looking around the table makes you laugh. "Unless someone else has something up their sleeves."

“I cannot give you jewels or prestige, but I can offer my assistance with anything you need.” Selena offers.

"You have my bow." Junie jokes, ever the avid Lord of the Rings fan.

"And my axe." Syd snorts, giggling along with her.

“It was supposed to be sword first.” Your mother tsks, shaking her head at Junie, even as she grins. “Sounds like we need to rewatch it.”

"I know it's sword first." Junie complains, though she will never complain about a rewatch of her favourite movies. "But I never took fencing, I took archery. Why would I pledge my sister a weapon I can't wield?"

“My youngest child is so literal.” Your mother snorts, laughing at the offended look on Junie’s face.

"One of us has to be," you grin in amusement. "I've got my head in the clouds and Alex is a gremlin. We need Junie to ground us."

“You are all so very different, but so very alike.” She muses. “All of you amazing in your own way.”

"Oops." June laughs and points her drink in your direction. "Mom is getting sentimental. Quick, somebody else ask a wedding planning question."

“Where will the reception be?” Selena asks.

"Probably the East Room?" You look to your mother for confirmation, but it makes the most sense. It is the largest room in the residence and usually used for dancing and receptions of other kinds. "Would we have dinner in one of the dining rooms and then dancing in the East Room?"

“I believe that would be very fitting considering that is where the ‘First Princess’ photos were taken.” Your mother hums, nodding in agreement. “We must make sure that Marcus recreates that dip for another photo.” It would be for purely personal reasons she would want that.

“I’ll make sure he does.” It would be perfect for the first and last pages of your wedding album to be those photos, and the idea practically makes you sigh with the dreamy feeling in your heart. “So that’s all the wedding locations sorted. The rehearsal dinner is still way up in the air and the Jack and Jill bachelor party is being left up to the wedding party.” Your eyes cut to your three bridesmaids and Sydney, June, and Selena all grin back with false innocence. “But there will be photography so please keep it wholesome. The only other venue is the bridal shower.”

“Where would you want to have a bridal shower?” Selena asks curiously. “There are so many historic sights around here, I can’t help but think that it’s impossible to choose.”

“If we do another historical site, I want to make sure they keep the museum open like they did last night.” There are only a few bites of your salmon left and you already know you’ll be thinking about this meal for weeks to come. “Using historical sights is about recognizing American history and being open to discussing it. I would hate for someone to show up to an event at Ford’s Theater and assume we support presidential assassinations just like I would have hated anyone to show up last night and assume we supported slavery just because we were at the home of someone who had been a slave owner.” You shake your head a bit, knowing that some people will always be contrary. “Maybe a smaller museum that could use a little recognition?”

“What about something for women’s rights?” Sydney asks. “There’s the museum for Women in the Arts and the Women’s Museum.” She offers. “It can be a moment that shows that just because a woman finds her soulmate, that doesn’t mean she looses herself.”

“There are those, and also the Suffrage Museum,” you nod along with the idea.

“You mean Sewall-Belmont House?” Junie perks up immediately. “Technically it’s now the Belmont-Paul Women’s Equality National Monument.” You flash your best friend a grin. We could have a tea party in the museum dedicated to women’s suffrage? They sold tea blends and Held tea parties as part of the rallies during the suffrage movement. Any of those would work.”

“Really?” Donna tilts her head in curiosity and smiles. “That is something that I know nothing about, but it would be fascinating.” She confesses.

“Lets see which of those three would be able to take our numbers and passes the Secret Service’s scrutiny,” your mother suggests. “They would all be wonderful choices.”

Murmurs of agreement sound around the table and then the clinks of the forks on the plates resume as everyone continues to eat. “What about gifts.” Selena asks.

“For the bridal shower?” You cringe, knowing that gifts are traditional but also that you and Marcus can manage. “Ought I to make a registry? Or should everyone just have at it?”

“I think you should.” Your mother nods. “If you aren’t comfortable with the gifts, find a charity you would like contributions to be made to in your honor.”

"We've tossed around a few charities we want to support." It's something that has come up a little more often now that gift giving occasions are on the horizon. "We'll talk it over. But knowing my practical fiancé, he will suggest making a small registry for closest family members and friends, and choosing a charity or two to put on the invitations."

“That sounds like the best kind of compromise.” Sydney admits. “Aunt Mildred isn’t going to want to donate to charity, she wants to gift you an egg platter that will be used twice a year and then displayed with pride.”

You smirk, but nudge your best friend beside you. “So this hypothetical Aunt Mildred…is your mother?”

She snorts and sighs. “How did you guess? The horrible name or the insistence on things being her way?”

“Your mother is as particular as she is old fashioned.” You snort, knowing that particular is a generous description of Syd’s mother. Though she has always been a kind and supportive presence, she does has very strong beliefs.

“Particular.” Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head, although it’s more in fond exasperation than anything else. “Yes, but that particularity will have you something hopelessly needless and ornamental.” She warns.

“And we will treasure it because it’s from her.” After all, Sydney’s mother helped raise you. She’s as much a part of her childhood as your own mother in a lot of ways.

"Mom is in meetings all day, so no fear of your mother-in-law popping in to give her two cents," you tease, as you and Marcus move through the White House residence on a Friday afternoon hours in advance of family dinner. You're meeting with the person that the White House special events staff has designated as your wedding planner for the very first time and trying not to seem nervous. It feels overwhelming to start this planning right in the midst of the holiday season but it has to get done. And the sooner the decisions are made, hopefully the easier the rest of the wedding preparations will be.

Marcus snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re the one who said I couldn’t use my badge.” He reminds you, winking as his arm loops around your waist.

"Because I want that ace in the hole, my love." You grin back at him and lean into his side, putting your arm around his waist in turn and giggling. "If anything goes truly sideways, that's when we use the badge."

“FBI, madam,” Marcus drawls seriously. “Did you insist on the color puce for a wedding color?!”

The snort you let out echoes in the halls of the residence and you're still giggling when you turn into the China Room. "I think navy and gold were good choices. Nice and simple. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel here."

“And it’s a play on red, white and blue.” Marcus observes. “The red will come from the roses in the Rose Garden and then gold for the white and of course, navy.”

"The white will surely be your bride, won't it?" Annette is already in the room, sitting with her notebook and phone out on the table in front of her. "Miss Sharma is on her way. She's just coming from a meeting with your father and I'm sure he has given her a few things to consider that he wants for your wedding."

Marcus smile as he nods towards Annette. “Good to see you again. And yes, she will be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

"There's no need for flattery, you two." But you still hum happily and sit down at the table with Marcus and Annette. "We're all the most interested in having a day that runs both beautifully and smoothly."

“I have two goals.” Marcus tells you. “Well, one goal.” He corrects. “Marry you. As long as that happens, the day is perfect.”

"Was there another one in debate?" The chairs are too far apart for you to lean into his side, so you take his hand and weave your fingers together instead.

“I had thought to have a water fight in the Rose Garden.” He jokes. “But I don’t the secret service would like a game of hide and seek.”

"I might put it on the schedule just to see them panic." Amelia Sharma is a tall, poised, and right now very amused woman who sweeps in to the room with a chuckle. She introduces herself but doesn't stand on much ceremony, plopping down in the chair between you and Annette. "We have quite a lot of work ahead of us. A few jokes will help us keep our heads on straight."

Marcus laughs as he watches her pull out a planner and it’s a wonderful idea. He bites his lip and wonders if it might be a keepsake you and he could have after the wedding is over. “Despite the magnitude of the wedding, we are really pretty simple people.”

"That might be the other thing that will keep our heads on straight," you admit, watching the woman get settled. As is habitual in your mother's White House, there is a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snacks on the table but for now you just reach to pour yourself a glass of tea. "We're not terribly picky, or high maintenance, or any of that. All we want is a nice day with our friends and family."

“There will be a few other guests as well.” Annette reminds you. “But only few.”

"Do you have the list of official guests?" The guest list from the White House was meant to be approved by your mother early on and adjusted as economics and politics demanded, but you have been curious about a first draft.

“You have final say.” Amelia pulls a sheet of paper out of the planner and hands it to you.

Dignitaries and representatives from other governments are all represented as you suspected them to be. Members of your mother's cabinet. The new governor of Pennsylvania and her family. A few token members of important families. But no celebrities or donors or anything that doesn't make immediate sense as you look over the list.

“Does it look alright?” Marcus asks you, knowing that you are much more knowledgeable on the political side than he is.

“I never thought I would have to curtsy to anyone at my wedding, you admit, Running your finger along the names of the various retrial families on the list before you look back up at Annette and Amelia. “Do we think any of the royals will actually show, or just send a nice card?”

“They might arrange an upcoming tour of the US to coincide.” Annette tells you with a smile. “Although you could cause tongue to wag by not curtsying.”

“I don’t object to it,” you clarify immediately, thinking of all the scuttlebutt that would happen if you didn’t do something as silly as curtsy. “It sounds like a cute photo op actually. The First Princess and the Actual Princess.”

“I think I would like to see that.” Marcus agrees with a fond smile. “It would be a beautiful photo op.”

“You know what that makes you?” The sly grin on your lips for your fiancé isn’t subtle, nor is the sparkle in your eyes. “Prince Charming.”

He snorts and shrugs, “I’ve never denied that.” He teases playfully.

“Some will accept and some will not.” Amelia Sharma smiles, mostly because she can tell you’re nervous. “But those who will souls be given a bit more attention than your standard courtesy invitation.”

“It doesn’t matter who is there.” Marcus tells you. “All that matters is that those we love are there, celebrating our happiness. Everyone else is just white noise.”

“We just want the flowers inside to complement the fact that our ceremony is being held in the Rose Garden.” It feels like a foreign language to you, talking to this florist, and you curse the fact that Marcus had been called out of the country on a case as you sit here with your wedding planning the florist’s shop wishing you knew what the hell you were talking about.

Marcus bites his lip, his alarm going off to remind him of the flower appointment. “Excuse me, I need to make a call back to the States.” Interpol doesn’t need to know that it’s not to his boss, so Marcus closes the door on the small office he’s been allowed to use and pulls out his phone.

It’s a miracle when your phone goes off in the middle of trying to find your voice with the florist. Oh thank god, you think with a sigh. “This is my fiancé,” you explain, and set your phone in the table in front of you to answer it. “Hi honey! You have perfect timing.”

“Have you already met with the florist?” He asks, happy to hear your voice and he thinks he hears a little bit of relief in your tone.

“We all just sat down,” you tell him, wishing you could just reach through the phone and hug him. “I was just telling Theresa about the Rose Garden, and Amelia is here with us as well.”

“So I’ve been doing some research….” Marcus admits with a smile in his tone.

“Oh?” Theresa, the florist, sounds impressed that a groom would be doing more research about flowers than the bride.

“We have colors for our wedding. Navy and gold, so I was thinking that we use marigolds, azure aster and baby’s breath for the bouquets.” He suggests. “They complement the roses in the garden and still have their own beauty.”

“We can certainly start there,” the florist hums, nodding along and starting to scribble down in her notebook. “We’ll get some height out of other flowers in the same color scheme, but this is a beautiful beginning. Bringing real color to the palette is much more lively than working with a monochromatic look and I think you’ll be very pleased with it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped because you and he hadn’t had a long discussion about flowers yet.

“I think it’s an utter relief,” you promise him with a laugh. “I had absolutely no idea of how to approach flowers and you’ve solved it in one go.”

“I spent the flight hooked up to the WiFi and researching flowers.” He admits with a laugh. “I just didn’t want you to have to think about this alone. If you hate it, that’s fine, but let the florist put something together like that to see, hum?”

“I’m absolutely on board.” And relieved — absolutely, entirely relieved. “You didn’t happen to have a thought about my bouquet, did you?”

“Actually…” Marcus chuckles and shrugs even though no one can see him. “I thought you could have something non-traditional and yet it would be a quiet statement in official portraits. What if you were to carry a bouquet of olive branches?”

“I could certainly use olive branches as greenery in your bouquet instead of the usual accents,” the florist offers, interested by the choice.

“You’re thinking of the official seal, aren’t you, love?” You ask Marcus over the phone, and hum slightly at the idea. It’s a nice homage without going crazy. “What if we used olive branches and laurel branches as the greenery for our flowers?” You offer after a moment. “Laurel are in the Seal of the President.”

“It would be a statement.” He agrees, having thought laurels might have been too bold, but the two of them together might be the ticket. “Especially since your mother is working hard to achieve peace.”

“And the day is a peaceful one.” Amelia smiles at the sentiment, nodding in approval. “After the turmoil you dealt with early on, it will be nice to have your day for happiness.”

“Yes.” Turmoil, you think with a polite smile. That’s one word for it. “Maybe for my bouquet we can use those greens and an assortment of white flowers? White versions of the things that we’re using in the other arrangements, and of course roses and dahlias and camellias. Things like that?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling softly as you start to interject your own thoughts into the process.

“And what about the boutonnieres?” The florist is now taking rapid notes. “How many members of your wedding party will there be?”

“Honey?” Marcus speaks again. “Did we decide on four or five?”

“We said four, didn’t we?” You look down at the phone as though you were simply looking at him in conversation. “You have Juan, Alex, Leo, and Clark?” Originally Marcus had asked his father if he would want to be a groomsman, but after a long discussion Matthew had insisted that Marcus choose his friends that are nearby and truly enjoy himself.

“That’s right.” Marcus huffs. “You’re completely right, I forgot. There would be five total, four for the groomsmen and I would like a boutonniere that matches the bride’s bouquet. I think there should be a subtle difference between the arrangements, right?”

“Absolutely.” The florist nods, continuing to scribble. “I can do further simplified pieces for the fathers and the ring bearer if you would like?”

“Definitely.” It sounds very sweet, actually, to have everyone unified like that. “Our ring bearer is an adult, for the record. A very close friend. So the only child in the wedding party is our flower girl.”

“Will the child be holding a bouquet as well?” She asks and for some reason that makes Marcus laugh through the phone.

“Our goddaughter will only be a year old, so I’m not planning on testing her coordination with a bouquet and a basket of flower petals,” you answer as kindly as you can with Marcus giggling over the phone.

“Sorry, I’m just imagining Constance flapping the bouquet in Malachi’s face as he carries her down the aisle.” He snorts.

“Honestly?” You giggle right along with him but offer your florist and wedding planner an apologetic grin. “That alone might make it worthwhile.”

“I’m here!” Sydney opens the door three inches and shoves her lips inside, the days of just popping in without announcing are over now that Marcus lives here. She’s not willing to risk walking in on something she shouldn’t see. “Put your clothes on.”

“Marcus is out with my Dad,” you huff at your best friend, but laugh anyway. “I’m fully dressed and presentable. But don’t come in, we need to scoot out if we’re going to meet Selena, our sisters, and my Mom at the dress shop.”

“Sorry.” She knows she’s the one running behind. Getting out the door has become practically impossible with Constance here now. “Let’s go.”

“Honey do not even apologize.” You grab your coat and grin to find Agent Bailey already ready to go.

“I’ll drive,” she offers, shooing you toward the elevator. “You two enjoy your gossip and baby pictures on the ride.”

“Thanks.” She flashes the agent a grin. “I only took ninety-seven photos this morning. Quite modest.”

“I can’t believe it’s dress shopping time already.” As the three of you head down in the elevator, you snag Sydney’s arm and tug her close in your excitement. The January chill has done nothing to quell your excitement, but it does mean you’re definitely wearing knee high boots with your plaid dress today instead of heels. “This dress shop is amazing and I’m so excited to see what you guys like.”

“How have your fittings been going with your grandmother’s dress?” She asks, knowing how careful you are being with altering the heirloom. You had taken Junie with you to make sure she approved.

“It’s going to be pretty perfect.” The elevator ride evaporates on a sigh and a laugh, and in mere minutes you’re sliding into Agent Bailey’s car. “It will be tea length, so the mission is to find dresses for the four of you that are the same or shorter.”

“You might be the first bride in history that wants her bridesmaids to have a sexier dress than she does.” Sydney teases, making Agent Bailey chuckle softly as she pulls out of the inn’s driveway.

"Knee length dresses can be perfectly modest," you huff, but you know she's right. "The place we're going is run by a pair of cousins, and they make modern interpretations of vintage dresses. I think we're going to find something fantastic. At least...I hope we will."

“I know we will.” She predicts. “This wedding planning has been super easy. Who could have guessed that Marcus would have been so engaged in the entire process?” Her comment is sarcastic because all of them knew it, but it’s still fun to point out that your soul mate is also carrying around bridal magazines in his briefcase.

"Actually?" Glancing over at her in the car, you smirk to hold back a joyous giggle. "He's the one who had the idea for the bridesmaid dresses that I think I'm going to go with."

The little dress shop in downtown DC is just that — little — but the ladies who run it are endlessly sweet and accommodating. Your group just about fills the entire shop and there are Secret Service agents to boot, so the shop owners have elected to have their place open late today to accommodate your group as a private party.

It might actually be the most fun you e had with any wedding planning trip ever. You and Sydney join your mother, June, Selena, and Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh to round out your bridesmaids— on top of having your wedding planner present — and everyone has mimosas to make the whole thing even more fun.

“Have you decided what color you would like the bridesmaids’ dresses, or are you still going to choose what you like best?” Your mother asks, happy to be able to be here after all the meetings this morning. Nothing but a national crisis would have prevented her from coming.

“I’m hoping we can find dresses for everyone that work in navy blue, but if we can’t then that’s fine.” You’re not going to be a bridezilla about your wedding colors. The groomsmen have all already ordered suits in navy with a gold pocket square so your colors are represented there. “I want you all to wear things that make you feel beautiful. Marcus had a thought that I agree with — that we should pick a color, a fabric type, and a length that everyone can agree on. And then everyone can have a dress in their own style that coordinates instead of completely matching.”

“Ohhhh interesting.” Junie lights up and nods. “I think that would be great, although, there’s a lot of beautiful things here.”

“If you all fall in love with the same dress, then that’s fine,” you look around at your bridesmaids with an utter softness in your expression, just glad to have you friends and your sister here. “But I’m not going to force you to match.”

Sydney smirks at Junie, both of them aware of the conversation that had been had without you about how you were all going to match for this wedding.

“Why don’t we start with the navy blue options and see what we like?” Your consultant today is one of the shop’s owners and she is nothing but smiles with the large group in her shop.

“Of course.” It’s absolutely thrilling to have the President and her daughter in their shop and the owners are here to personally oversee the day, giving you the privacy you need without the additional staff here. “We will pull all the styles we have available and we can order any size needed and make alterations.”

“Do you guys want to do a fashion show?” It’s a fully rhetorical question. You know these four women and you know they absolutely live for frivolous shopping trips and the endorphins of being silly with friends. This trip might be for a real event, but it still has that air of frivolity that shopping for prom dresses did back when you were teenagers. “I’m going to sit with Mom and Amelia and we’ll go through the best of the navy blue choices first?”

“Yes!” Junie immediately volunteers, shooting up out of her seat in excitement. “I put on my good bra too.”

"Come on, Junebug." Sydney tugs your baby sister toward the racks of dresses and nudges you firmly in the other direction. "Sit," she urges you. "Drink. Chat. Let us do the work for once."

"Oo!" AnnaLeigh, already in the racks of dresses, is gasping over a discovery. "I found one with a lace top!"

She pulls the dress out with a flourish and four bridesmaids immediately coo over the pretty dress. “I think you should try it on first.” Junie tells her.

“Everybody picks a different dress and we let Birdie pick, right?” Selena murmurs, her eyes already sliding to a satin swing dress that looks straight out of the 1950s.

“Agreed.” Sydney sees where Selena is heading and her own browsing bypasses that and goes directly for a beautiful sleeveless number.

It takes several minutes to get everyone coordinated, but when all four of your bridesmaids disappear into changing rooms there is a collective squealing and another moment’s pause before they emerge again in all their glory.

“Oh my…” your mother whispers, her gaze full of love and adoration for the vision in front of her. She loves Junie with all her heart, Sydney is the closest thing to a child she has beyond her biological children and of course she adores Syd’s sister and Selena. “You all look perfect.”

“Oh my god!” Knowing that your friends have excellent taste might have been a little bit of a tactic on your part, and setting them loose to pick the first round of dresses was a fantastic choice. “Okay, you all look amazing. But how do you feel? Comfortable? Like you can dance and move and sit without trouble?”

Every woman starts swinging the dresses around playful and moving. Junie and Selena dance to no music and all of them laugh.

“What about sitting?” Choosing between any of the four dresses they’ve chosen will be impossible unless you put on a critical eye. The dress Junie has on is the right length on her, but your petite little sister is considerably shorter than the other three. And the dress can’t be elongated to fit them.

There are chairs and all four of them sit down with great aplomb, grinning happily. The dresses feel right.

“I swear, if you all tell me you found the perfect dresses first thing…” Looking between them, it certainly seems that way. As though they have all magically found perfection without any effort at all.

“What? That we have time for you to try on your dress with the alterations started?” Junie challenges with a grin. “Don’t you think you should see what a rough look like it will be, all together?”

“Is it safe?” You have to let the shopkeeper make the call on that decision. The reason you found this shop was that they specialize in working with vintage pieces as well as selling vintage-inspired designs, so it had been sort of a one stop shop for you in terms of planning.

“Yes.” She smiles at the wistful hope in your eyes and knows that she can’t say no. The hem has been pinned and as long as you aren’t careless with it, it will be good to get a final fitting with it. “We can go get it from the back.”

“I really didn’t expect to put it on today.” Which is evidenced by the fact that you didn’t even think to wear a strapless bra today, but it doesn’t matter. It will be beautiful regardless.

Junie smirks and shakes her head. “You have to.” She insists. “One picture with all of us right now.”

“Do you guys really love these dresses? You’re not just saying that?” Looking at the four of them, you can’t help but get a touch misty-eyed as Selena pulls you up on the dais with them to look in the mirror together. “Because you all look stunning, but you really don’t have to pick after the first round.”

“I love mine.” Selena snorts. “This is the one I want.” The others hum and nod in agreement. “Yeah, this is the one for me.”

“What kind of jewelry are you thinking?” AnnaLeigh asks, gleefully swishing her skirt in the mirror.

“I was thinking…pearls maybe?” Meeting all of their eyes in the mirror, you have four beaming smiles gleaming back at you. “But the other wedding color is gold, so maybe…maybe pearls and gold? But those are going to be gifts for you four. Thank you gifts, for being a part of all of this.”

“You don’t have to give us anything.” Sydney automatically protests, but she knows you will do it anyway.

“No.” You know that, but you squeeze your best friend to your side. “But I want to.”

“But we just want to lodge a formal protest.” Her sister chimes in with a grin. “So we are going to buy our bridesmaids dresses.”

“Absolutely not.” Shaking your head at that adamantly, all four of them shoot you a stern look in the mirror. “You guys, no,” you insist, nudging them all. “Get your own shoes. Whatever height you like. Be comfortable and pick something fun. Gold or blue, you guys decide as a group. But…Mom already offered to pay for the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“You’re no fun.” Sydney huffs, turning towards the President and rolling her eyes at your mother. “The presidential purse, hum?”

“The regular purse,” your mother laughs. You’ve allowed her this one little thing to do personally, while most of the wedding expenses are being covered by a combined force of contributions. “You all look stunning, and I want the bragging right of saying I got all of these beautiful dresses for you.”

“Mrs. Pike?” The shop owner has a little habit of calling all the brides by the future marital name and it makes you beam. “We are ready for you to try on the dress.”

“Here goes nothing.” You grin at your friends in the mirror and slip away to change, practically floating with the glow of two little words. Mrs. Pike. In just eight months, that is exactly who you will be.

______

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