Notes: This is later than I originally had planned due to a power outage affecting my area for two days (some parts of my town are still without power so I got lucky), so I thank you all for your patience. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. Thank you to my beloved @ezrasbirdie for beta-reading
Comments/reblogs appreciated
Chapter warnings: Gun mention (out, but not fired), swearing, minor panic attack, arrest, interrogation/questioning, kissing, non-explicit sexual content, confessions
Marcus Pike x female Reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Recently arrived in Texas and only slightly removed from his divorce, Marcus finds himself smitten with the women at the housewares store that is helping him furnish his new Austin condo. It becomes a more complicated situation than he could have expected, but Marcus has never been one to shy away from a challenge when love is on the line. ✨This fic takes place *before* the events of The Mentalist.✨
Rating: E for Extremely Explicit! Word Count:16.4k Warnings: Cursing and food/alcohol mentions. Blanket warnings for this fic will include divorce, past abusive relationships, deceased parents, father issues. Summary: Whether you technically want to call it your first or second date with Marcus, a movie and dinner becomes quite an adventure when you realize that the two of you have a few key things in common. Notes: We’re ramping things up right out of the gate here, guys. Hold on to your hats!
With five minutes left until six o’clock you’ve managed to force yourself to stop pacing the main floor of your place. Instead, you’re sitting in your kitchen with a mug of tea and nervously twirling the small ring you’ve chosen as an accessory round and around your finger. It had been nearly impossible to think about anything besides Marcus for the rest of your shift. Everything seemed to push your thoughts back to him. Not that they ever strayed far from him in the first place.
Marcus had to stop setting up everything about an hour before, switching gears and showering so he could get dressed in something that was appropriate for a date. Nothing too formal, but he paired dark jeans and boots with a maroon button-down shirt and his leather jacket. The dishwasher hummed and he had just transferred the clothes over to the dryer. Kitchen towels and bathroom towels are all ready to be folded and put away once they are done.
He checks his watch and gives a grin, time to head over. He picks up the small bouquet of flowers he had stopped by to grab after he had dropped you off at work and gives himself a small nod. “Time to go, don’t embarrass yourself Pike, you like this woman and she’s your neighbor.”
You shake your head and grin when the sound of the doorbell chimes at six sharp, wondering what Marcus must think of your roommate’s playful motion to replace the neighborhood-standard ding dong with something more akin to music. “Right on time,” you practically beam at him when you open the door. He’s somehow even more attractive than he was a few hours ago, and is very sweetly holding out a small handful of gorgeous flowers. “Come on in. I’ll get a vase for those beauties.”
He steps inside, pleased to find that it is a mirror image of his own place. “Well now I don’t have to explain how big my living room is.” He teases, remembering how flustered you became when you had said something about it that could be construed in a completely different kind of way.
Snickering lightly, you dig an empty vase out of a cabinet and toss him a pointed look. “You pushed the innuendo on that one. You’d just gotten done asking about a people to cuddlesection!”
“Valid question for a single man who just wants someone to love.” He argues playfully. “It’s better than trying one of those dating apps.” He shudders slightly at the idea.
“I have to admit, they can suck.” A lot of your more recent dating has been done via app and blind set ups with Naomi’s boyfriend’s friends, but clearly none of them have stuck.
“I get the theory behind them.” Marcus shrugs and steps closer as you put water in the vase. He leans against your counter and sweeps his eyes up and down your figure in appreciation. “I just like an interesting meet-cute. Like ours. It’s honestly fascinating in my opinion and so much better than ‘we matched’. ”
“Retail makes it harder sometimes. All those fun weekend activities where people meet and chat and get to know each other? I’m usually working then. It’s only with the new promotion that I’m getting some of my nights and weekend time back.” The beautiful bouquet is easily deposited into the vase with some water, and you set it down on the kitchen island in front of you with a satisfied smile. “But I like our meet-cute better, too. It’ll be a very cute story if we ever have occasion to tell it.”
“Well.” Marcus shoots you a smile as you admire the flowers. “I say that we start our first date and see if we have reason to tell people about a meet-cute or that date from hell with the person I unfortunately live next to now and just wave to awkwardly.” He jokes. If things didn’t work out, he wouldn’t treat you any different from any neighbors he had in the past. He just wasn’t that type of man.
“I doubt you’ve ever been anyone’s Date From Hell, Marcus Pike.” One quick reach and you’re picking up your purse from the kitchen island and nudging him toward the front door.
He chuckles. “Then you’ve never heard about the time my car broke down, I spilled my beer on her, my credit card was declined, and it started pouring down rain while we walked to a phone alllllllll in one date.” He tells you as he guides you over to his car. “Classic definition of a date from hell. ”
“Oh,noooo.” The laughter that bubbles out of you is apologetic, to say the least. “That sounds awful. But it wasn’t because you did something wrong.”
“True.” He huffs and opens the door for you. “But it doesn’t count as anywhere close to the top ten dates.”
Once you’re both settled in the car you settle back with a comfortable sigh. “Tell me about one of the top ten, then. The funniest date or the best one or the one that is the most nostalgic.”
“Well….” Marcus knows that it’s not good protocol to talk about past relationships, but you asked. “I reserved a suite at the best hotel and had a full spa package arranged complete with room service.” He offers. “That was a fantastic weekend.”
“You like to make a fuss.” The revelation makes you smile, glad to see that the Marcus you met today who does small things like hold doors and pick up trash from the table, is consistently thoughtful. Not just as a means of making a good first impression.
“I do.” He doesn’t apologize for it, knowing that some might not like it, but it was a part of his personality. “Acts of services?” He offers with a smile.
“I’ll remember that.” Preferring to go into this with the idea of it lasting, you want to keep track of the important things early on. If it ends up fizzling out, it won’t be because of a lack of intention. “I’m kind of a words of affirmation and gifts combo.”
“Noted.” He tosses you a grin. “And if I get to be too much, just— you know, you can always say something. I never want to overstep.” He knows that there are certain people who hate having things done for them and he respects it.
“We’ll find a rhythm.” That’s something you’re fairly certain of, given the fact that you’re both reasonable adults and have so far been very upfront about your interest in each other. “As long as this doesn’t unseat your worst ever date story tonight, and we decide to see what happens…we’ll find a rhythm. Just…if you’re not a good morning and good night text kind of person, tell me now.”
That makes him grin and he shakes his head. “I’m more of a 'hey I called to let you know that I’m going to be ten minutes late and is there anything you need when I am on my way?’ type of person.” He had stopped calling Amanda when she seemed so annoyed by it, but in the end she seemed annoyed no matter what he had done.
“We’re the people who drive other people crazy,” you observe softly. “Checking in, sending notes, holding doors, doing things preemptively to try to lighten the load.” It actually makes you chuckle, the way that the two of you seem to line up. Even Naomi likes to give you grief about the little notes you drop in her purse sometimes when she has something big coming up, or the fact that you always seem to have one of her favorite bath bombs stashed for when she’s having a bad day.
“Can’t be a bad thing, right?” He asks.
“For us?” You shake your head, offering him a smile as he drives. “No. It’s good for us. But other people are missing out on the excellence that is our affection.”
He appreciates the outlook you have on it and hums when he stops at a red light. “What about you? I want to know your worst and best dates. See where the bar is at.”
“Let’s see.” Humming dramatically, you love the way he lights up a little when he looks over at you again before the light turns green. “Worst would be from college. The guy who took me to his little brother’s little league game because I said I like baseball. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he was trying to be cute about it, but he proceeded to spend the entire game yelling corrections at the kids and telling me why they should give up on sports early to avoid disappointment.” It’s sort of funny now - mostly you just feel bad for the little brother and literally anyone who has met him since. “And the ‘picnic’ dinner he was very proud of packing? Was celery sticks and Jell-O cups.Which we ate while he told me what I should be changing about my diet and lifestyle to be more attractive to the men who have to spend time with me.”
“What a dick.” Marcus makes a face of disgust and shakes his head. “I’m seriously hoping you shoved a celery stick somewhere extremely uncomfortable in his bodily orifices.” He chuckles. “I’m saying this as a private citizen and this in no way represents the view of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He adds on, dry humor lacing his tone.
You shrug, being far past any kind of upset about it, and gently and briefly run your knuckle along the side of his hand in a soothing gesture. “I went home and ordered a pizza for me and my roommate to have with some beers while we watched the actual game that was on that night. Much better use of my time.”
“Perfect.” Marcus nods in approval. “If he wanted to really make it a date, he should have taken you to the game. Cheap seats, hotdogs, and beer?” He gives a small groan of approval. “Nachos and the ice cream that comes in the little hats.”
“I’m seeing a road trip to a Rangers game in our future.” The prediction makes your smile widen, and don’t for one moment regret letting yourself get excited.
“We could do that.” Marcus has to admit that he wouldn’t mind that at all. “We didn’t have a professional team in Portland, but we had a minor league team that I would go to sometimes.”
“Are you from Portland originally?” You ask, wanting to know more about the man you already feel so comfortable with.
“No.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “I’m from southern Cali, don’t hold it against me. Portland was my first duty station out of the Academy.” He gives a small chuckle. “San Diego to Quantico was like a completely different world.”
“Man, I thought upstate New York to DC was bad.” Shaking your head a little, you try to imagine a laid back, potentially surfer-sequence version of Marcus getting used to the pounding pace of the nation’s capital.
“Completely. I had just finished school and it was a completely different universe.” He chuckles, looking over at you with a grin. “Frat parties to weapons training.”
“I went from the family farm to the big city.” The image of him as a frat boy is endlessly entertaining to you, because he doesn’t give off that stereotypical energy in the least. “8 am classes were nothing compared to getting up before dawn to milk the cows before school, let me tell you.”
“Wow.” He tosses you a grin. “No wonder you spent ten minutes telling me about how different cheeses reacted to different styles of graters.”
“You can take the girl out of the dairy farm, but you can’t take the obsessive knowledge of all things milk-related out of the girl.” At the time you had barely noticed you were doing it, but now you can feel the tips of your ears heat up. “When were you at Quantico?” You ask, quickly changing the subject.
“Ten years ago.” He smirks slightly at your obvious embarrassment, but he had been fascinated by the mini lecture.
As he pulls up to another red light, you turn fully toward him in your seat with your eyebrows furrowed as seriously as eyebrows can possibly be furrowed. “Marcus.” You shake your head at him, barely keeping yourself from laughing. “I graduated from George Washington University eight years ago. This…” You can’t hold them back, the giggles escaping at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. “This isn’t the first time we’ve lived in the same city…”
“Jesus.” His own giggles burst out until the two of you are laughing in his car like idiots.
“The universe literally just shoved you through my front door today. Just incredibly sick of us walking past each other on the street.” You may not put a lot of stock in destiny or the universe, but it sort of seems like the something out there is dead set in making you believe.
“No, what will be sick is if you used to go to the Command Post.” He tells you, remembering heading to that little sports bar when they needed a break to have a few beers and shoot some pool. It’s one of the few places he had gone.
“Um…” Sinking back into your seat, you cringe a little before you burst out giggling again. “My roommate…Naomi…s-she used to bartend there…”
His eyes blow wide, and he whips his head around to stare at you in shock. “No shit?!” He huffs out. “Jesus, Madison was fucking in love with her. Swear he would tip her like forty bucks every time he bought a round.” He pauses. “Curly hair, skin the color of dark chocolate and would wear green contacts?”
“You know Madi?!” It’s a goddamn blessing that you’re nearly at the movie theater, because you’re both about to bust out of the car from laughing so hard. “Oh, you’re going to fucking love this.” What the ever-fucking-fuck kind of coincidence is all this? “Marcus, they’re dating now! He’s here in Texas. They ran into each other a couple of months ago at a private party she was working.”
“Jesus, I wondered where the hell he went.” Madison had gotten caught up in a bad bust in organized crime and had left the FBI. He slaps his hand against the steering wheel and starts laughing again. “Okay! I get it! We were supposed to meet!” He glances up at the roof of the car before he looks back over at you. “This is proof that the world is a small fucking place.”
“Fucking crazy.” You shake your head at him, aware your mouth is hanging open in disbelief but not really able to close it or stop being shocked. “When we hit that Rangers game, all four of us should go,” you offer, wanting to give him a chance to see his old friend again. “If you want.”
“Hell yeah.” Marcus chuckles and turns into the parking lot of the theater. “We used to talk about taking a train into New York for a Yankees or Mets game when we were studying our asses off.”
“You couldn’t just go to a Nationals game like everyone else in the city?” It’s so wild to think about that you’re not sure you’ll be able to start processing it properly any time soon. “I can’t believethis…”
“We did, but we wanted to go see a subway series game.” He tells you with a laugh.
“Just think,” you flash Marcus a grin and shake your head. “If we’d run into each other at the bar back then, maybe I could have avoided the Little League date.” You shrug. “But then, I do love to tell that story.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “It could have been possible. I met my ex-wife in that bar.”
“Oh yeah?” You haven’t poked or asked anything about her, but this feels like a moment to at least make the situation a little lighter. “Anyone I know?” At this point, you would believe anything.
“Okay, so if you knew Amanda Perez, I’m going to just declare this the Twilight Zone.” He huffs, glancing over at you to see your reaction to her name after he parks.
“That depends.” You can feel all the blood drain from your face, thinking about the only Amanda Perez you ever knew - ten years ago, in Washington DC. If it’s the same woman, you’re going to declare this completely insane. “Are we talking 5’9”, black hair, perpetually bronze skin, never drinks hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, and talks in her sleep when she’s stressed out?”
“Nofucking way.” Marcus leans back and gives you a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. “This is— how did you know her?” He chokes out.
“We…” You choke on it, honestly a little worried about how he’ll react. If you’re right about the timing…well, the universe has a very fucked up sense of humour. “We dated.” Your head drops, looking at your thumbs in your lap. “For about six months. Then she sat me down on campus one day and told me she’d met somebody else.” Just - apparently - like she’d done to Marcus ten months ago. “When did you guys meet?”
He feels like he’s been hit by a truck. Especially since he had specifically asked his ex-wife if she was dating someone when they met and he got her number. Woodenly, he tells you the date, something that he had memorized at one time as the luckiest fucking date in history.
“Cool.” You’re already nodding as soon as the month comes out of his mouth, and for the first time this memory makes your heart hurt not because she hurt you but because she hurt him just the same way. “Cool…yeah…we…um…we overlapped for about a month, then. She was seeing both of us for about a month…”
“I’m sorry.” Marcus is immediately apologizing, feeling completely sick to his stomach. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I - I asked if she was seeing someone, I swear.”
“Marcus, I’m not mad.” Shaking your head again, it’s like you’re trying to shake your thoughts back into line. “I mean, I was. I was completely heartbroken. But it’s not your fault. She…” You shrug helplessly. “Clearly, she has a pattern of finding someone new before she leaves the person she’s with. I’m sorry…if this is all too weird, or too much, or upsetting for you I totally get it. I can take an Uber home and we can just wave awkwardly at each other in passing like most neighbors.” It would - you realize with a sick feeling dropping through you - be a little heartbreaking all over again. But you don’t want to put Marcus through any kind of pain.
“Why would I want that?” He frowns at you in confusion. “I mean…if you don’t think that it’s a good idea to date, I understand. But my ex-wife being a slightly shittier person than I had realized doesn’t change my interest in you.”
“Are you kidding?” A huff pushes its way out of you as you laugh in disbelief. “I want to send her a picture of us together. Ten years later and I still want to throw it back in her face. I may be feeling a little petty about it, to be honest. But I’m sure as hell not going to let the fact that we share an ex put me off wanting to be on this date with you tonight.”
The grin Marcus gives you is positively wicked, and he purses his lips slightly. “We are still friends on social media.” He tells you slyly. “We agreed that we would be 'friends’ because she couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing that I was okay.” He rolls his eyes slightly now that he knows that it’s a pattern his ex had for cheating. Something he had clearly stated he despised.
“Ooooo,” you rub your hands together with happy, petty glee. “Picture in front of the movie theater? See if she spontaneously combusts over Facebook?”
“Oh, I say we tease her.” Marcus huffs. “Post a picture of us holding hands and then one after the movie. Don’t you remember how nosy she is?” Amanda had always wanted to know what was going on in everyone’s lives.
“I will bet you anything that she will try to take preemptive credit about how she always knew we would get along or some bullshit.” With the specter of your mutual ex not hanging between you like an awful Twilight Zone episode, you lean quickly over the center console of his car and leave a small press of your lips on his cheek. “Come on, handsome, quick picture and let’s get some popcorn. Movie starts in less than five minutes.”
Marcus snorts as he gets out of the car, walking around it while giggling to himself like a schoolboy and gives you a smirk when he opens the door for you. “So, I have a technical question?” He started in a long draw. “Does…does our body count go up when we sleep together? Since we’ve slept with the same woman? Don’t we get a pass on this? I feel like we should get a pass.”
“Honey, I have a feeling my body count is a lot higher than yours anyway,” you throw him a playfully suggestive wink, but the fact is that you never actually made it to the altar over the last ten years and he did. “If you want a pass, it can be a pass.”
“That doesn’t scare me.” He shuts the door behind you and his hand rests on your lower back, not too low to be disrespectful but he knew you wouldn’t mind the touch. “Just like the fact that you used to date my ex-wife doesn’t scare me. We can bitch about her annoying traits together.” He jokes lightly.
“Blanket hog.” You groan immediately, making no effort to pretend you’re not leaning into his warmth a little. March in the evening in Texas still had a decided chill in the air. “I’ll offer this up on the Altar of Exes while we’re still on the topic, but I was engaged about a year ago. Part of packing up and coming to Texas was getting the hell out of New York again. It’s not necessarily a long story, but it definitely reads like the screenplay for a Hallmark movie.”
“Man or woman?” He asks curiously. It’s obvious that you have lived that never say never life and he’s interested in your background. “Not that it matters, heart break is heart break and I know it sucks.”
“Boy.” You roll your eyes dramatically. “Basically, I stayed in DC after college, trying to figure out what the hell to do with my hospitality degree that would pay more than minimum wage and no clear dream job. About four years ago, my mom got cancer, and my dad couldn’t take care of her and the farm on his own, so I moved back. Crate & Barrel let me transfer to the nearest store to my hometown and I kept my job there one day a week just so I wouldn’t have to quit. Turned out that my dad’s prized farm manager was my high school sweetheart. He and I got back together, tried to make it work, then when it was clear that my mom wasn’t going to make it, he proposed in front of her. Forced me to say yes, basically. A few months later I laid my mom to rest, told him to eat shit, and I found a promotion to move to.”
“Oh fuck.” He grimaces at the poor taste of that timing. “I could see if it was her wish to see her little girl happy or whatever, but nooooo.” He shakes his head and rubs your back in a half turn of his wrist. “I’m sorry about your mother, beautiful.” He murmurs softly. “That was the time to stand beside you and support you, but never push any type of big, emotional decision.”
“She would have liked you.” You tell him quietly, masking the slight sniffle that always threatens to invade when your mom comes up in conversation. “She did this weird thing…every morning she’d put the coffee pot on and go out to the garden while it brewed. I don’t know how she always had enough flowers every single day for a new vase, but there were always fresh flowers on the kitchen table when I came down for breakfast. So, the fact that you showed up at my door with flowers would have put you in her good books immediately.”
“Then I’m extra glad that I brought them.” Marcus tells you, walking up to the ticket booth and pausing the conversation long enough to purchase two tickets to the movie from the teenage girl behind the glass. Once he has them in hand, he turns to you and offers you the ticket he had gotten for you. “Maybe one day I’ll get to meet her and bring her the most beautiful flowers I can find.” He is obviously talking about visiting her grave with you, but it’s pretty clear that your mother meant the world to you.
“Sorry.” Sniffling slightly, you shake off the layer of melancholy and accept the ticket from his hand. “Didn’t mean to bring the mood so far down. I just don’t want you to think I’m commitment phobic or something. I didn’t make it down the aisle for a very good reason.”
“Baby.” It’s almost natural that the term of endearment comes from his mouth, especially at thismoment. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He assures you, reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers with yours, and giving them a small squeeze. “Good, bad, sad, I want to know all about you.” He leans in and kisses the side of your head. “Would a buttered popcorn, some Milk Duds and a large Coke help lift your spirits?”
The softness that rolls through you - the sweet little pet name, the touch of his hand, his lips, everything together - has you leaning against him all over again. Face to face, this time, and it means you can smile up at him and find out the exact shade of brown his eyes are when they’re all soft around the edges like they are now. “Make it Junior Mints, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Done.” He’ll let you eat all of those, mint and chocolate never mixed with him, but he would buy two boxes for the smile on your face. “A large popcorn, a box of Junior Mints and two Cokes.” He orders when you reach the concession stand before he turns to you. “Anything else you want, baby?”
“That’s more than enough.” You promise him, both because it’s absolutely true and also because you’re not about to pout and request cuddles in front of the teenage cinema employee currently bored by your entire existence.
He gives you a smile before turning back to them with a smile. “That’s it.” He pays and hands you one of the Cokes and the Junior Mints while he takes the tub of popcorn and his own coke before leading you over to the butter station. “A lot of butter or a little?”
“I am routinely yelled at for drowning my popcorn,” you tell him seriously. “So put as much on as you want.”
He catches his tongue between his teeth and grins at you. “Are you sure I wasn’t supposed to meet you at that bar?” He asks, knowing that he would have approached you just as easily as he had Amanda and apparently you were a better fit. “We are going to need napkins.”
Reaching past him, you grab an exaggerated stack of napkins and tuck them in your hand along with the candy box. “I think we definitely were supposed to meet in that bar.” Once the facts of the situation had started to sink in - and the conversation since then - you’re willing to admit that there is an element of destiny or fate of some kind at play. There are just too many coincidences surrounding the whole thing.
Marcus cackles gleefully as the butter dispenser spurts again and again all over the kernels. “Remember how Amanda hated this?” He asks, shaking his head. “Always wanted plainpopcorn.”
“Lecture upon lecture about cholesterol.” Seeing even a little of Marcus’s catharsis through being able to vent about her is somewhere on the fence between kind of cute and wildly entertaining, and you love this level of freedom on him. “What is life without a little fun? A movie without buttered popcorn? Nachos without ungodly amounts of cheese and pickled jalapeños?”
Marcusmoans, rolling his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck yes.” He snickers. “We had one of those chocolate fondue fountain things? I definitely put that amazingly nasty canned nacho cheese in it during game day parties. Just hold the chip under the cheese.”
“Marcus Pike.” You deadpan his name, so he looks at you curiously. “That may be the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It’s official.” He shakes his head, and his face is splitting in two from the force of his grin. “You’re my soulmate.”
“Come on.” Your cheek heat deeply until your face is practically on fire, and you can feel yourself go shy at the honesty in his only slight tease. “Let’s go find a seat and take an astonishingly cute picture before the lights go down.”
“Perfect.” Marcus follows you into the theater and tells you to pick wherever you want to sit, secretly happy when you want the next to back row.
“Get the popcorn in the picture,” you snicker, wiggling around in the tight movie theater seats as the two of you try to find a decent way to pose for this silly photo.
He loves the way you think. Stretching his arm out so he can snap the pic. It takes a couple of tries, but eventually there is one really great one. “There it is.”
“We’ll see if she has anything to say about that in a couple of hours.” You’re absolutely certain beyond a doubt that Amanda’s need to be in the middle of gossip will prevail, and Marcus will probably have a few texts and you’ll have a friend request by the time the movie is over.
“You are evil, and I love it.” Marcus tells you as he captions the picture and posts it on his timeline before he turns off the phone completely.
“We dealt with enough of her bullshit, she can handle a little fun from us.” When you settle back into your seat, you have no desire to do any of the vaguely uncertain mincing around and instead just lean into his side. You want to be beside him, and you won’t apologize for it.
Marcus lifts his arm and puts it around your shoulder. Never happier than this moment in how candid the two of you had been with each other. “Popcorn?” He asks as the lights dim.
“Well, we didn’t just get it for the picture.” With a grin, you grab a few kernels off the top of the tub and offer them to him, fully aware of the intimacy of the gesture.
There is a moment where he just looks at you, amazed at how easy all of this is with you before he leans forward and opens his mouth for you to feed him the popcorn, closing his mouth around your fingers and making sure to suck the buttery richness off of the tips before he pulls his head back.
Alright. Well. There’s no way you’re going to be able to concentrate on the movie now and you absolutely brought that upon yourself. Hoping Marcus didn’t register too much of the flash of heat in your eyes, you ease yourself back into your seat and under his arm as the credits begin to roll.
The movie starts, but all Marcus can think about is you. Every time you shift slightly, it’s to bring yourself closer to him and he can’t say that he hates it. The movie plays, almost in the background he’s so hyper aware of you and every time you reach for the popcorn, his own hand bumps yours as you both seemingly have the same sense of timing. “I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.” He teases, leaning in to murmur softly in your ear.
“Me?” You whisper, batting innocent eyelashes at him. “I am innocent and pure and am not at all enjoying the small touches.” Just pointing it out tells him how much you are enjoying them, and hopefully lets him know how borderline giddy you are.
“God, I hope not.” Marcus whispers back playfully and leaning in a bit more so that his nose is almost touching yours. “I have a firm rule of never kissing someone innocent and pure on the first date and I was really looking forward to that first kiss I am planning.”
“Oo, there’s a plan?” You raise an eyebrow at him, grateful there’s no one sitting nearby to shush your whispered flirting. “So, I’d better not close the gap and do it myself right now, huh?” You wouldn’t, not if he’s been thinking about it enough to have an actual idea of how it will happen. But it’s fun to tease.
“I mean…you are always welcome to close the gap and do it now.” Marcus hums. “But I was honestly thinking that it would be even better if it were when we were both full and there was the taste of sweet wine on your lips, maybe the light of the moon shining down on your face. Where I can face you completely and cup your cheek. Slow to start, testing the waters before it deepens.”
Swallowing the hard thump of your heartbeat, you can feel the excitement course through your veins. The promise of something new, and potentially big, hovers in the horizon and in his words. “But,” your voice is barely above a breath. “How will we know which is better unless we’ve tried both?”
“Clever girl.” His eyes are soft and yearning, flickering down to your lips for a moment before looking back up at your own soft orbs. He tilts his head slightly in invitation, offering you his lips but not demanding anything. This next step was yours to take if you want to.
The world seems to slow, in that beautiful way it only does when something wonderful is about to happen, and the faded dialogue of the movie filling in the background like Marcus is your own personal screen idol. It takes only a small turn off your head to nudge his nose with your own, eyes flicking up to find his lids heavy and hazy as you lean forward imperceptibly to press your lips to his.
There is something sweet and yet so incredibly titillating about the buttery, salty taste of your lips. He sighs slightly and his lashes flutter as he closes his eyes and leans in more firmly into the kiss.
It’s adolescent, to be sharing your first kiss in the back of a movie theater over a tub of buttery popcorn and sticky-sweet soda, and you sort of love that about it. The moment is relaxed and unpretentious, with the hum of excitement running all through it as Marcus presses back against your soft approach and you happily sigh to deepen the first moment of physical intimacy between you. He forgets that you are in public, forgets that there is a movie playing on the screen in front of you. Everything but the feel of your lips on his fades away into the background.
With the way he molds so perfectly against you, it would be so easy to go too far. To just toss up your hands and indulge, the rest of the world be damned. But you remind yourself that it’s early days. Just the beginning. And there can be so much more if this to come.
You pull back gently, reluctantly, and feel yourself mourn the loss of his touch immediately as you’re nearly panting for the breath he’s stolen from you. “I…um…wow…”
“Wow, is right.” Marcus gives you an almost goofy grin.
“The moonlight and sweet wine have a lot to live up to, later.” You tell him with a sly smirk, before settling into his side again. Teasing Marcus is easy and fun - comfortable as well as exciting. Something you hope you’ll never get used to. Teasing him and kissing him are very similar endeavors.
“I will have to bring my A game to top that kiss, but I think I can.” His fingers brush the skin of your arm gently, making you shiver. He hums, knowing that it’s not cold that makes you react like that, but he uses it as an excuse to lean close again. “Let me know if you need my jacket, beautiful.”
“Just you, handsome.” You both know it’s not the chill of the air conditioning making goosebumps raise on your skin, and you offer him another piece of popcorn from your fingers. “Just you.”
He smirks and takes the popcorn again, this time making sure to twirl his tongue around your fingers as if your digits were your clit and he was treating it to his singular attention.
“Tease,” you murmur under your breath, acting like you’re upset about it but you’re honestly not in the least. Turned on, however? Oh yes.
“Not teasing.” Marcus responds smoothly. “Promising.”
You’re proud of yourself for not whimpering, but there’s no way he misses the way you shift in your seat and gently squeeze your thighs together in anticipation. Your ex-fiancé wasn’t a bad lover or anything, but oral just wasn’t his time to shine. Cumming on Marcus’s tongue sounds like heaven. “I hope you keep your promises, then.” Not that you doubt him. Of anyone in the world, you fully believe Marcus Pike keeps every promise he makes.
“It might be my favorite thing in the world.” He lifts a brow at you and smirks slightly. “And it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to indulge.”
“Fuck…” That’s definitely a whimper, and you’re grateful no one is nearby to judge you for it. “Well, I’m happy to break that dry spell for you.”
“We just have to survive this movie and dinner.” He murmurs softly. “I’d already taken tomorrow off. Do you have to work?”
“No.” You’re all but shaking your head, ready to promise him you can sleep in and stay naked if that’s what he wants. All he has to do is say the word. Tipping your head back, you find his soft eyes watching you. “And Naomi’s staying with Madison tonight. So no roommate, either.”
“Hmmmm.” He smiles and leans in. He doesn’t kiss you, but he does nuzzle your nose with his. “So I don’t have to worry about you being too loud then.”
“With what they put me through, they deserve payback.” You grumble softly, breath catching at the unexpectedly dirty reply.
“I’ve heard.” He snorts. “Our bedroom walls are shared. “Once I get my bed, we might have to have a competition.”
“We can trash my second-hand bed with a contest, not your brand new one.” You know what that big, beautiful four poster is costing him, and you won’t let him waste that kind of investment.
He huffs and sends you a cocky smirk. “I have to test out how durable it is.” He teases, body extremely interested in this conversation.
The slickness between your legs is nearly fogging your brain with your nod and murmur: “For science.”
“For science.” He agrees and tries to look back at the screen with a sigh. “So…I have a naughty idea.” He poses. “What if we leave the movie now and go get dinner.” He knows he hadn’t watched any of the movie up on the screen if he was honest with himself. Too focused on you.
Flicking your eyes back up to the screen, you have to admit that if you hadn’t seen it a dozen times already, you would have no idea what was going on - finding him much more engrossing than Norma Desmond could ever hope to be. “Very naughty.” You agree with a grin. “Let’s go.”
The two of you giggle as you make your way down the stairs and out of the theater. Marcus only feels slightly bad about tossing a nearly full drink and popcorn, but he’s too interested in getting you alone where you don’t have to worry about bothering others with your conversation. “Note to self, watch movies at home. When I get a TV.”
“Ah, electronics. The one thing I am absolutely useless in shopping for.” Now that you’re out in the lobby, your voice almost feels odd at full volume again. “But yes, you do need a tv.”
“I am an excellent judge on TVs.” Marcus tells you snootily. “If I can turn it on and watch TV, it’s good.”
“Well, I can’t fault your logic.” You shake your head at him as you make your way through the lobby. “But you’ve forgotten. In order to be good, a TV must also be verybig.”
He snorts and throws you a mildly dirty look as you exit the theater and make your way into the dusky night. The sun is starting to set and he chuckles. “How about a good mid-sized tv that knows how to work really well?” He bargains, aware that he’s not talking about TVs at all.
“Oh, we’re talking about TVs.” Throwing him an exaggerated wink, you nod wisely. “Yeah, function over form, every time.”
His hand on your back flexes slightly, resisting the urge to reach down and pinch your ass. If this wasn’t your first date, he might actually do it, but he needs to somewhat mind his manners. “So where would you like to eat dinner, beautiful?” He asks you softly, wondering if you have any favorite places or anywhere you’ve wanted to try.
“I’m not picky.” The stroll back out to the parking lot is lazy and the warmth of his hand on your back lulls you against his side yet again. “You mentioned steak earlier. We’ve talked about barbecue. There’s a good Italian place I know. Anything it’s fine.”
“Ehhhhh.” Marcus would prefer that you pick but he knows that it might just lead to a longer conversation about the merits of each place and he doesn’t want to take longer than he has to in order to get you sat down to wine and dine. “How about Chama Gaucha?” He asks, wondering if you would like the Brazilian steakhouse. “They even have a salad bar.” He offers enticingly.
“This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?” You wrinkle your nose at him, sticking out your tongue for good effect. “Brazilian barbecue it is.”
“I’mcompromising.” He sticks his tongue out at you. “I heard that is healthy in relationships.”
“Funny how often we used to get those lectures when we were always the ones bending over backwards.” With another heavy eye roll, you take the last few steps to his car a little faster - his long legs meaning he’s already beaten you there. “It’s a meat and veggies compromise, but from how much you obsessed over picking out wine glasses, I’m guessing they have a killer wine list.”
“I have heard they do.” Marcus had never been there himself, but it was one of the restaurants that he had been wanting to try. He just hadn’t yet because it’s not any fun going to a place like that by yourself. “Hopefully we will find out.”
“Hopefully we will.”
As always, Marcus holds your door for you to get in and settle in before he shuts it and climbs into the driver’s side.He starts the car and pulls out of the theater parking lot so he can navigate towards the restaurant. He has always had a pretty good sense of direction and exploring the city for work had helped him get a good idea of the overall layout and where a lot of things were located. “What type of wine do you like?”
“Do I lose points if I say ‘cheap’?” You offer him what you hope is a charming smile. “I’ve matured only slightly beyond my college Arbor Mist obsession. So…I guess that’s anything sweet and fruity.”
He raises a brow at that. Amanda had been very picky about wine, and they had spent several vacations in Napa Valley as a result. “I’m guessing a shiraz might be the best starting point.”
“I know, I have the palate of an 18-year-old sometimes. It’s awful.” You shake your head in defeat.
“No, I’m just wondering how you and Amanda got on with that.” He chuckles. “She is…rather snooty about wine.”
The huff that pushes out of you is audible. “I pretended really hard.” You tell him quietly. “But…I don’t want to pretend with you.”
“Does it help that I like beer better than wine?” He asks, sending you a side glance. “And a good tequila is the best.”
“You’ll show me what you like, and I’ll show you what I like.” That’s how it should work. At least to you. No pretending and no lying. If it goes beyond tonight, anyway. “If you want to, I mean.”
“Oh, I’m just thinking about how to stock my fridge when you come over to my place.” He throws you a smirk. “If you want Arbor Mist, I’ll make sure that you have whatever flavor is your favorite. If you like IPAs…” He grimaces. “You’re on your own there.” He teases and wrinkles his nose playfully.
“These days it’s more like shandies and Riesling.” You relax measurably in your seat, that unhappy flash of nerves fading away. In its place, you send him a smirk. “You never did tell me your favorite cheeses.”
He tosses you a mildly guilty grin. “Is this date over if I tell you that it’s goat cheese?” He snickers.
You half-snort, covering your giggle with one hand. “It would be off if you were dating my father.”
“Well then I guess it’s a good thing that my favorite cheese is Havarti.” He chuckles and can’t help but reach over and take your hand. “That or fresh mozzarella.”
His fingers laced through yours are warm and weighty, and you raise the back of his hand to your lips to press a kiss to his skin. “You teach me about good wine, and I’ll teach you how to make fresh cheese,” you bargain, truly believing that the more you share, the better things will be.
“Ohhhh I like that.” Marcus grins. “How do you feel about charcuterie boards?” He asks seriously. He had gone with Amanda to a class on how to set up the best boards for parties and his ex-wife had been obsessed with them. As long as there was jalapeño jelly and berries on it, he was in heaven.
“Honestly that’s most of what I eat for lunch,” you admit without a hint of shame. “Just me and my little charcuterie board at my desk with a sweet tea? That’s heaven, baby.”
He hums in approval and nods. “So, I’m envisioning dates on my new couch with a charcuterie board and a new wine while we cuddle in our new blankets.”
“That sounds like the perfect rainy night.” The vision of a storm sounding outside the house while you curl up in a little blanket fort of your own making is about as sweet as he is. “Date night at home.”
“I’m glad you like that idea.” He gives you a sweet look as he stops at the red light. He’s only about six hundred feet away from the turn for the restaurant. “Your favorite version of a date is what?” He asks.
“Anything that involves learning.” It seems like a cop-out answer, you know that, but you squeeze his hand quickly and explain. “Teaching each other things, taking little classes, hitting a museum, or trying something that’s new to both of us.” You shrug slightly. “Nerd dates.”
“Damn.” Marcus hadn’t thought you could be any more perfect, but you continue to surprise him.
“Damn?” Your head quirks in his direction as he pulls into the restaurant’s parking lot.
“Just admiring how perfect you are.” He tells you as he parks and shuts the engine off.
“Oh,please,” you roll your eyes playfully.
“Seriously, you said the magic words.” He promises.
Willing to admit that might be the case, you reluctantly let his hand go so he can put his car in park. “Do you have the same answer, then?”
“I have to admit I might be asking you to accompany me to a few gallery showings.” He winks before he gets out so he can come around and let you out of the passenger side.
“Perfect.” You slip out of his car once more and happily accept his hand when it lingers by your side. “I can learn more about art.”
Inside the restaurant smells delicious and Marcus’ mouth waters. “Table for two please.” Marcus smiles at the host and squeezes your hand.
The genuinely bored looking host shows you to a booth where you are immediately greeted by your waitress with a smile and attitude as bright as the sun, and you fluster when she explicitly welcomes you out for what is clearly your date night. “How long y’all been together?” She asks, chattering away. “If ya don’t mind me askin’?”
Marcus looks over at you and then checks his watch. “Nine hours now?” He asks, looking over at you for confirmation. “At least that’s how long we’ve known each other.”
“Well, shoot.” The waitress laughs when both you and Marcus do, and easily excuses herself to grab Marcus a complete wine list when he asks for it.
“Nine hours strong.” You grin at him with flushed cheeks.
“I mean, I have to say that we are doing really well for nine hours.” He tells you. “We’ve found a mutual background and established our communication.”
“And you were the talk of the store after you left.” You tell him with a grin, knowing that it’s completely beside the point but still finding it fun.
“How so?” The waitress returns with the wine menu and Marcus quickly picks out one of his favorite sweet reds and looks towards you for the answer.
“Anyone redoing an entire house is always worth talking about.” You reason, taking a sip from the water glass in front of you. “Plus…I came back from lunch grinning like an idiot…”
“Grinning like an idiot, huh?” He asks, grinning like one himself right now. “Kind of like how I absolutely wasn’t dancing around my condo like an idiot while I unpacked all the shit I bought from this pretty sexy girl I met at the store?”
“Kind of exactly like that.” The image he presents with that is playful and dreamy, and your grin spreads wider. “I’m almost afraid to ask if you’re a good dancer.”
“Formal? I won’t step on your toes.” Marcus admits. “Amanda always said that for someone who could fuck I had zerorhythm.”
“Thank God.” You groan dramatically. “For a second I thought you were going to say you were a childhood ballroom champ or something. Considering you’re already pretty much perfect, that would have just been completely over the top.”
Marcus throws his head back and laughs, making the waitress grin as she comes up to the table again with the bottle to pour glasses for both of you. “Well at least you two are enjoying yourselves.” She says, sending you a wink.
“It’s refreshing to find out that he’s not textbook perfect, that’s all.” You shake your head at the waitress as if to tell her how ridiculous it is that he is so close to perfect, and listen with interest while she explains exactly how your very unique dinner will be served.
“That sounds incredible.” Marcus looks over to you and nods towards the buffet. “You want to go get your salad? I hear they also have an amazing lobster bisque.”
“There is nothing about this meal that doesn’t sound perfect.” And amusingly, it even hits on the ‘nerd’ qualification for a date, because you’ve learned an entire new genre of steakhouse operations.
He slides out of the booth and cheekily holds his hand out to you. “My lady, heaven on a buffet awaits. Shall we feast?”
You barely manage to cover your mouth, acutely aware that the couples at the surrounding tables won’t find your snort as endearing as Marcus does, and you reach to take his hand. “We shall,” you agree, mimicking his tone between giggles.
He helps you up and holds on to your waist while you both shuffle over to the buffet. Cheese slices, stuffed olives, pasta salads and everything to make a real salad are accompanied by the bisque, some rice and black beans with plantains that smells amazing, and the little cheese breads that you’ll later find out are amazing. Marcus groans at the plate piled high and grins at you. “This isn’t even the meat selection yet.” He reminds you.
“We’re going to pass out as soon as you park your car at home,” you predict, admitting to yourself that it would be fairly hilarious if it happened.
“Shit.” He huffs, shaking his head. “That just means that I’ve got to make up for it when we wake up.”
“Baby, a good date and a good sleep cuddled up together isn’t anything that needs to be made up for.” Of course, you’re fully and eagerly looking forward to having him in your bed, but you don’t want to give him the mistaken impression that it’s the only interest you have in him.
He flashes you a wink as both of you make your way back to the table. “So you don’t want to wake up with having your clit sucked on. Got it.”
“Oh, fuck off.” You hiss under your breath, with an absolute pout in your voice. “I’m just trying to behave! God, that thought is going to hauntme….”
His laugh is a little dark, a little mean, but he loves the way that you pout over the idea. Both of you sit back down and immediately a server comes over with steaks on a spit to ask if you would like some. Marcus nodes right away and holds out his other plate for the man.
Dinner is an elaborate, delicious, substantive dance, and you’re predictably stuffed by the end of it. The wine Marcus chose is far beyond your education level and a little extra tasty because of it, making you feel that much more spoiled. Halfway through your dinner you had both agreed that you would have to do this again, and that you would be tracking down a copycat recipe for the cheese bread to try making at home. You haven’t stopped laughing, teasing, or grinning like smitten teenagers all night. It is, in every way, an absolutely perfect night.
There’s a light breeze as he walks you to the car. Both of you are almost overly full, but it had been worth it. He looks over at you with a smile at the way you automatically turn your head and look at him. “I think that we can call this a success.” He comments lightly, swinging your hand that is encompassed in his.
“Without hesitation.” It’s past chilly and has officially become cold, and you tuck your free arm around yourself for a little extra warmth on the way to the car. “And I think we can both safely skip breakfast because we’ll still be full in the morning.”
Marcus doesn’t care that it’s only another hundred feet to the car. He slips his hand out of yours and starts shrugging off his leather jacket and stopping you so he can hold it out for you to put on. “Here.”
“I’m fine.” You protest, but it’s hollow and you both know it. The jacket is around your shoulders before you can even finish the thought and the warmth it retains from his body makes you shiver counterintuitively before you start to warm up. “I…thank you…serves me right for trying to be cute above all else.”
“Youare cute. And now I get to be a gentleman and give you my jacket so you aren’t cold when I kiss you.” He smirks and turns you towards the car again.
“Ohright,” you hum, as though you could ever forget exactly how amazing it had been to kiss him. “We still need to compare and contrast.”
He waits until he gets you to the car, the door right at your elbow when he turns to you and cups your cheek just like it said he would. There is an anticipation in this air, and he takes just a few seconds to absorb the sight of you looking at him. The shine of the moon on your face is perfect where he had parked away from the light posts and yet he could see the want in your eyes clearly. “Beautiful.” He whispers before he leans in and kisses you with far more assertion than he would have if that kiss in the movie theater hadn’t happened.
His version of a first kiss is definitely smoother. You’ll give him that. Smooth and deep and delicious - and not just because of the wine. One of your hands easily finds its way to his chest, feeling the way his heart beats out of control when you begin to kiss him back.
He softly encourages you to open up, tongue sliding along your lips before you open your mouth and let him inside. Marcus can’t help the groan that rises from his chest when his tongue touches against yours, almost shyly at first before moving with more confidence and determination as the kiss progresses.
Completely enveloped in the moment, a plane could have crashed in the restaurant parking lot, and you wouldn’t have noticed beyond thinking that the earth shaking under your feet was from how good and right kissing Marcus feels. His tongue slides against yours and his breathing stutters and his heart skips a beat in his chest. His hand curls around the nape of your neck and he tugs you just a fraction closer. It’s magical, the feeling of your lips against his and for a moment, he never wants this kiss to end.
The rest of the world may not exist, and would not have at all, except for a distant cat call from another part of the parking lot and you break from Marcus with an embarrassed giggle. Marcus chuckles and turns to give the person a wave before he turns back to you. “Home, beautiful?” He asks softly, reaching for the door handle to the car.
“Home.” The fingers you have twined in his shirt pull him back to you for another, shorter kiss before pulling away fully.
He hums and holds the door open for you, not closing it until you are completely inside before hurrying around the front so he can jump behind the wheel. Nerves and excitement are thrumming in his system but he’s not going to assume he’s being invited into your bed, not even after being told. You can always change your mind and he will respect that.
In the front seat of his car, wrapped up in his leather jacket, your lips twist into a smile when he climbs back in beside you. “I think we have to call it a tie,” you tell him sheepishly. “Since both kisses were definitely, wow.”
“Yes, they were.” Marcus agrees, turning the engine over and picking up your hand quickly to press a kiss to the back of it before letting it go so he can put the car into gear.
“I guess we’ll just have to collect more data. You know…experiment.” You squeeze his hand lightly in yours. “For science.”
He throws you a small smirk and nods. “For science.” He agrees before he decides to change the subject. “So, what do you normally do when you get off of work? Your wind down routine?”
“Depends on the day.” Hands still linked together, your fingers tangle easily in his and keep him close while your heart beats louder and faster. “If I had a day shift, I’ll bring a book out to the garden before I start thinking about making dinner. But if I worked a later shift then I’ll just figure out something fast for dinner and turn on the TV.” You chuckle awkwardly. “That makes me sound really boring. Maybe I am. But I live with my best friend so it’s not like I’m running out for drinks with her every night. We do that in the garden.”
“Then I guess I’m boring too.” Marcus assures you. “I’m too old to try and go out every night. Especially after a long day at work.”
“I would imagine that your days are a lot more demanding than mine.” Which is nothing against your job, just an acknowledgement of the fact that his job is higher stress.
“Sleeping in on days off is a particularly favorite hobby of mine.” He admits, knowing that those have been few and far between the last few months. “That’s why I wanted a good bed. I try to make it a rule not to get up except to pee until at least ten-thirty.”
“Sleep in and drip dry?” You guess, raising a scandalous eyebrow at him and flashing a grin.
“I know.” Marcus rolls his eyes playfully. “If I was an eccentric billionaire I would live on a private tropical island where I can sleep with the ocean breeze flowing over me and never wear clothes again. Just go for a swim and pad around nude.”
“Ohnoooo…” Laughing along with him, you won’t deny that you’re very interested to know exactly what that visual would look like. “Relaxation. That sounds just horrible. How will you eversurvive?”
Warnings:body insecurities, internalized shame around sex and orgasms, use of vibrators, oral sex, fingering, PIV sex (unprotected, but let’s pretend they had that talk “offscreen” because they’ve been together for 2 months), Marcus Pike being the Absolute Fucking Most(™)
Summary:You’ve never been able to climax without the aid of a vibrator. Due to your insecurities and internalized shame, you rarely involve any toys during sex with a partner, and have been “faking it” for years. You and your new boyfriend, Marcus Pike, have been taking your relationship very slowly–building up a beautiful connection without ever having seen each others’ bedrooms. Two months in, neither of you can wait any longer. How will Marcus react when he discovers the thing you consider to be your deepest, darkest secret?
A/N:I know I said that this was on the back-burner until my OTHER Marcus stuff was completed, but then I got such lovely (and heartbreaking) responses to a snippet of this WIP that I picked it up again and couldn’t. stop. writing. This fic wouldn’t exist without @ezrasbirdie‘sGoing Slow, which is the only other fic I’ve read out there that deals with sexual dysfunction, and I can’t post this without acknowledging that her fic really paved the way and made me want to write about MY experiences, however personal, vulnerable, or “unsexy” they might be. It’s really fun to read (and write) about people with clitorises who can have multiple orgasms in one session, by intercourse alone, or by their partner just touching their clit, like, one time. This is not always the case in real life, a fact that is not well-represented in fic despite being very common. I think we should acknowledge that sex and pleasure can and do look different for everyone and can still be fun and sexy to read about. This is the fic I always wanted to write with Marcus Pike. I mentioned in the tags when I posted a snippet of this fic that the reason I write sooooo many Marcus fics is because I’ve kind of made this man an outlet for my trauma around this exact subject. When you’re too insecure or ashamed to prioritize your pleasure, sex can be fraught, even painful. If you’re reading this fic and think, “Hey, that’s me!” please know that you are NOT alone, it’s TOTALLY normal, and you deserve a partner who encourages and prioritizes your pleasure.
Additional thank you’s to @leslie-lyman for reading this over and being so lovely and encouraging in the DMs, and to @katareyoudrilling for letting me bare my heart and soul to a stranger on the internet, as one does. I love you both.
Taking requests peeps. Having a break from my current fics atm as I got toooo much going on with the wedding and it’s given me writer’s block!
HOWEVER!
I love to write so I’m taking requests for a few juicy one shots. Any fics you want me to expand on? Maybe just something a little fluffy? Or angsty? send em my way
