#belle x austin

[sweetycaramel]

Oh, I was so glad you guys could make it. Thank you for coming.

[itsbuckytm]

Austin Sommers being your typical protective boyfriend prompt.

Just some prompt on one of the second best characters of AHS Double Feature Austin Sommers. Hope you enjoy, reader insert is neutral. 🤍

Don’t get me started, Austin being a well known author and local in Provincetown with no to little visitors, his eyes would easily catch when someone especially a man’s pair of eyes were staring at you.

At first you didn’t bother, especially when it was just a few angry glares and to be frank you, found it rather enjoyable often adorable enough to tease him, before anything could get spicy between the two of you.

Depending on the situation, in the best subtle way could feel his hand gently caressing on one of your thighs, once in a while gripping it leaning a little closer very much bothered so as he whispers in your ears. “Can we go?” Then glaring at the guy who was simply your manager coming for a visit, talking about your next big show.

Making out sessions were often commun and mostly messy. The messier the better he loved. Austin loves receiving it as much as giving it. Hickeys from head to toe, showing to whom you belong to.

Sometimes, when Harry would visit, knowing you being friendly flirty to simply annoy your boyfriend and with such content, only responded with him gripping your ass. Such simple affection like this was enough for Harry or anyone to gulp uncomfortably, which excited both of you.

And as an extra, since you two were always turned on often impatient after a night of a good hunt crushed into Belle’s place and you both being the most important person in her life let out ot a gasp sighing like a desperate mother. “Oh you two, please don’t make a mess will you? I have some errands to catch up.”

[sunfishsiestalah]

1970s Perseus and Bell on a street in Moscow, engaging in one of the most important tradition that could make or break a friendship - deciding where to eat for dinner 🥘

Just some mindless study, still trying to get used to this wonderful but infuriating pencil brush. Heavily referenced from this advertisement poster by Austin Briggs (x)

This was also an excuse to draw Bell in that breton(?) cap that can be found near their spot on the table :D

[kimhargreeves]

Take The Pill-Austin Sommers x Reader

Summary: The Gardener's have decided to take you with them to Provincetown, you work for them and everything seems like a new start until you're confronted by the same town you wanted to forget, which only brought heartbreak and death to you. (I'll be writing on more characters soon🥰)

"I'll finally get my work done. All I need is some space and we'll head right back home." Harry Gardner carried a crossover bag which had his laptop and admired the old house.

"I don't like it here." Their young daughter said fiddling with her violin which was still in it's case.

Doris smiled at her and assured her everything would be okay. "Don't think too much about it, we'll get used to this place."

I placed a box full of their belongings by the couch and looked around. Most of the houses here seem old and poorly decorated, the whole place is gloomy and cold. But, Provincetown seems to be like this always especially during the winter season.

"Do you want me to take these upstairs to your room?" I asked Doris.

"Yes, please."

Doris smiled and Harry kept checking around the house while Alma has a frown on her face and went over to her room. I lifted the luggage she brought along with Harry's and began to walk upstairs to their room and began to unpack her belongings and placed them in their spot

I started working for them for a while now, since Harry and Doris were constantly busy with work, I started to look after Alma while they were away. The girl wouldn't stop saying how bad she is at violin whenever she would miss a single note.

At first I went to L.A to become an actress or a singer, but I knew I wasn't good enough so I gave those dreams up and focused on doing whatever I could do best.

"Thank you in helping me out, (Y/N)" Doris came walking in with her grown belly.

"Oh, it's nothing. You can't be working hard or you'll harm the baby. Want me to head over to the grocery store?"

Doris smiled and rested her hand on my shoulder. "What would we do without you." She chuckled.

I promised her to be back quickly and took Harry out with me. "You sure you aren't feeling so cold? I could buy you a warmer coat." Harry and I walked side by side.

I chuckled and shook my head. "There's no need for you to spend any more money." I wasn't feeling so cold unlike Harry who had his hands inside his pockets.

"This town looks almost abandoned." Harry joked when we started passing some houses and streets and saw no one. Some of the houses had some glowing red light.

"Haha it really does feel abandoned." I joked but felt uneasy. Like we're being watched...

We both entered the grocery store when we found it and Harry began walking around with the cart. I began grabbing some pasta, sauce and needed meat to make some meatballs. I rounded the corner and saw the cart filled with a box of cereal, juice, and other things he needed.

"How does spaghetti sound for tonight?" I suggest placing the meat down.

"Sounds perfect. We really enjoy your cooking." Harry smiled at me. Harry and I share a sibling like relationship, he was the first nice guy I met when I had nowhere else to go.

"Let's hurry up before Doris calls-" we rounded the corner and stared at a dirty, sick woman with pale messy hair.

"Get the fuck out of here fucker!" She angrily looked at Harry and turned her eyes to see me. I took a step back when she pointed at me.

"What are you doing here?..You fucking bitch! you can bet your sorry ass that you'll get killed this time."

"Alright, Karen! Go scream at a tree of the bay." The stores owner appeared.

Harry and I exchanged looks when Karen continued insulting us and left. "Sorry about her." I followed Harry and didn't hear their conversation. I was deep in my thoughts so I slowly glanced back and saw TB Karen looking at us through the window.

"If there's anything you need feel free to come on over." Mikey smiled at us both and we were out if the store. Harry carried most of the bags and looked at me concerned.

"You okay? Ignore the crude words that woman used. Do you know her?" He asked when he slowed down so I could catch up with him.

"I don't...she must've confused me with someone else." I lied.

Harry nodded his head but didn't ask anymore questions. I felt like we were being watched. I slowed down again and felt someone nearby, I looked back and from afar I could see one of the pale creatures, looking at me. I quickly turned away and began running back to Harry.

********

I felt like I was being constantly watched. "(Y/N)?" I let out a shriek and held onto my chest when I saw that it was just Doris next to me. "You've been jumpy lately, what's the matter?"

"Nothing! I've just been feeling a bit sick."

"Well, make sure it isn't Lyme or we'll have to take care of you." She joked at the last part and turned around so I could look at her.

"What do you think?" She asked like looking at her choice of clothes.

"Beautiful as always. It's been a while since you and Harry gone out for dinner-"

Before I could finish Doris held onto her stomach and ran over to the bathroom and began to throw up. Harry quickly entered the room and went over to her.

"(Y/N), can you check up on Alma?" Doris called out, so I started to go into Alma's room and saw her reading a book next to the nightlight by her bed.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?" I ask sitting next to her and running my hands down her long hair.

"A bit scared."

I hummed and nodded. Last night she said someone one was outside of her window, I woke and ran over to her room with a bat and almost hit Harry when I thought he was an intruder. I hadn't been able to sleep so I was getting a bit paranoid.

"As long as we're in here, we won't get hurt. Now, what would you like to eat?"

"Mac and cheese."

I giggle and began messing her hair. "Nice choice, I'll be right back with it."

I stood back up and made sure her window was locked up and closed the curtains so she wouldn't feel afraid. I headed back downstairs to the kitchen and began to boil water.

"We're going out." Harry walked past me and started to fill up a glass with water.

"Going out? Where?"

"Doris is feeling sick and can't go the restaurant, I already made reservations, so we're going."

I blushed and began to shake my head. "People will think we're together, no way this was your and Doris's night."

"(Y/N), don't make me pull you out myself." I could hear Doris from upstairs. Harry chuckled at her words and shrugged his shoulders.

"Just make sure to not steal my husband." She continued to joke.

"Don't worry, I'll bring him home safe." I shout back. We both laugh and he began to grab his coat.

"Just give me a few minutes. Alma, is waiting for her dinner." Harry gave me a thumbs up and patiently waited for me.

************

"This place seems nice." Harry lowly said when the people who were on stage continued to sing. I hid my face with my hand and looked away from the stage.

An elegant woman with silver hair continued to sing along with a young guy dressed entirely in black. Thought I hated to admit, their singing was good.

"If you say so, this place is a dump and so are some of its residents." I bitterly said.

The waiter came by and placed two drinks in front of us. "We didn't order any." Harry quickly told him.

"They did, it's on the house."

I glanced over and thanked God that the singing was over. "Let's go over there and thank them." Harry whispered to me when he grabbed his own drink and stood up.

"No." I slumped down on my seat. Harry grabbed my wrist and made me stand up and follow him.

"What's gotten into you lately?"

"I hate strangers!" I lied and tried to run off but couldn't.

"I'm Harry Gardener and this is (Y/N)." Harry smiled and took a seat when the couple offered us to sit.

Harry nervously laughed and pulled me down to sit next to him. The woman smiled. "People might know me as Belle Noir and he is Austin Sommers."

As soon as said that Harry began to fanboy. He's looked up to them both, successful authors who've won many awards.

"Can you believe it, (Y/N). Guess coming here tonight wasn't a terrible idea."

"She's never been a fan of writers." Austin said, his dark eyes not leaving my sight.

"Oh, I like them but there is one I've never liked. I find his writing too repetitive and boring for my tastes." I bitterly said back and we both glare at each other.

"Now now children there's no need to fight." Belle made it sound like she was joking but she really wasn't. I know it.

Harry and them began to talk about things. All I did was stay silent and glare at Austin.

"Maybe you should stop by at my place sometime. (Y/N), knows the way there." Austin smirked.

"Maybe we will. It was nice to meet you both." I groaned and stood up. I quickly walked out of The Muse and waited for Harry who wouldn't stop smiling.

I grew annoyed and slapped his chest. "Quit smiling you look weird."

"How can I? You never mentioned me you knew Austin Sommers?!"

I rolled my eyes and frowned. "Never thought you'd be so interested. Fine want to know the truth? I used to live here a long time ago and that's how I met him. We even dated a while back."

Harry looked at me surprised. "You kinds blew it there, (Y/N). What made you want to leave him?"

We continue to walk side by side down the dark streets. I sigh and remember the many emotions I felt before I left here.

"He pressured me into doing something I didn't want to." I mutter and stared down at the ground while we made it back home.

[theresidentincorrectquotes]

Conrad : Nic told me I need to start thinking before I act.

Conrad : So, if I beat the shit out of you, rest assured, I thought about it and am confident in my decision.

[theresidentnews]

The Resident, Episode 4x03, “The Accidental Patient” Promo

[devonpravesh]

the kiss

pairing: devon pravesh x fem!reader

summary: a woman in the er flirts with the reader’s crush, devon.

warnings: none/cursing.

“Ah, Ms. Rogers, I’m doctor Pravesh and this is doctor (Y/L/N),”

“Oh god, if I had known you would’ve been my doctor I would’ve done a bit more about my appearance.” A woman in her mid-to-late twenties said.

I softly chuckled, “You’re here for lowerback pain, I think figuring out what’s going on down there is more important whether doctor Pravesh thinks you’re attractive or not.”

She gave me a side eye while I quietly eyed her up and down. Dark brown hair, green-blueish eyes, plump lips. Devon’s type.

“If you could lay on your stomach for us that’d be great.” I said sarcastically. Devon rolled his eyes.

“Alright, where exactly is the pain coming from?” Devon asked her while we put on gloves.

“Just above my bum.” She said.

“Alrighty, let me have a look.” I said before Devon could speak.

“Very well, Ms. (Y/L/N),”

I softly touched her back while she let out a short hiss. “I’m sorry! It feels really stiff here.” I said while continuing to put pressure on it.

“It hurts! That’s enough! I want doctor Pravesh to look at it!” She yelled at me. I rolled my eyes and took off my gloves while standing up from the chair, “Whatever.” I muttered softly.

“I’m sorry for doctor (Y/L/N)’s behaviour,” Devon spoke as he put on his gloves, “Now, let me have a look.” I rolled my eyes at his unnecessary comment.

He put a bit of pressure on it as Ms. Rogers kept making flirty comments.

Devon blushed as she gave him a compliment about his appearance.

What is wrong with this guy? Usually he’s confident.

“Well, Ms. Rogers, seems like you have herniated disc, meaning that a fragment of the disc nucleus that is pushed out of the annulus, into the spinal canal through a tear or rupture in the annulus. We cannot give you any treatment for this expect antibiotics for the pain. If the symptoms continue for longer than six weeks it is recommended to come back and we’ll have to find a solution.” Devon simply explained.

“So I’m just gonna have to live with it?”

“No, the pain should go away on its own in a few weeks, but like doctor Pravesh explained, if it’s still there after six weeks, we recommend that you come back.”

“Alright. Thank you so much, doctor Pravesh. And you too, doctor (Y/L/N).”

“Of course, it’s our job.”

My pager went off as Ms. Rogers kept asking Devon some more questions, some more personal and others more work related.

“That’s me. I’ll see you at lunch break.” I said and quickly left the room, looking around for Mina.

“What’s up?”

“Kid in E.R. Had a seizure, asked for you.” She quickly explained and we went our seperate ways.

Lunch break.

“What was that?” Devon asked as he put down his tray.

“What was what?”

“Your attitude in there with Ms. Rogers, she needed professional help and you were being bitchy to her.” He slightly raised his voice at me.

God, that was so attractive.

“Well, she was being a little bitch to me, too.”

“You’re overreacting, she was not. And even if she was, we’re doctors, we’re supossed to help anyone. Not matter what. And for a matter of fact, I know you’re not upset because of her so-called attitude. So tell me, what’s really wrong?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

“What?”

“I really like you, Devon. And I didn’t want to make things awkward so I never told you. Of anyone for that matter. So her flirting with you just really got to me, because I know for a matter of fact that dating someone you work with will not work out.”

“(Y/N)... How long have you felt this way?”

“For a a long time now. I just didn’t want to ruin what we have. I know it’s not close to a relationship but I like what we have. We’re good friends, and if admitting my feelings for you will change that, than I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t. So Devon Pravesh, I like you, and if you don’t like me back, so be it.”

He started smiling, “Yeah, no, I get it. Doing this... could totally ruin the work environment, not only for us,” He kept talking while inching closer to me until our lips touched. I quickly moved my arms around his neck.

“Hate to interrupt but I have some important news to talk about.” Bell said.

“What is it?” I spoke while my face kept getting redder as Bell kept staring at us.

“We don’t have enough guests for tonight charity gala and we need the money, do you two by any chance know some rich people willing to give money to a hospital?”

“I could ask around, I know I have some CEOs in the family.” Devon said.

“My sister and her husband should be able to come, they have their own law firm so they have money to spend.”

“Alright, that’ll be all.” He said and left.

“So, uhm,” I started but immediately stopped, not know what to say.

“Yeah,” We both started laughing after a few seconds of silence.

“I probably should apologise for my comments earlier, didn’t mean to come across as rude. I just never expected you to like me like that.” He said while shifting from one foot to the other.

“‘S alright. The kiss made up for it.” I said with a wink.

[wardenparker]

Starting Over - Chapter 1

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: Teen. But this blog is *always* 18+ Word Count: 14k Warnings: Cursing and food mentions like always, but this is just pure fluff right out of the gate.  Summary: Handsome divorcé Marcus walks into your store and into your life like a breath of fresh air, not even intending to sweep you off your feet. All he thought he was here for was to furnish his new place. Notes: Thanks to everyone who voted in the Wednesday/Thursday WIP game! This sweet little multi-chapter is a shout out to my day job at Crate & Barrel. At least once a week if not more, we see folx fresh off divorces, getting ready for weddings, moving across the country, and generally starting their new lives - helping them start up fresh again is a big challenge but it’s something I’ve always really enjoyed about my job. And one day we wondered...what if Marcus Pike strolled into my store?

Sighing, Marcus rubs the back of his neck self-consciously when he walks in the door and the bell chimes, letting the store workers know that there was a potential customer coming in. He had put this off for as long as he could but was quite frankly tired of sleeping on an air mattress in his empty condo like it was the first time moving out from his parents rather than what it really was. Starting over. He was divorced, having left everything with Amanda and not taking anything more than his clothes and the painting that he had bought from a street artist. He had been a little watery eyed when the painting arrived yesterday from the shipping company. The only remaining evidence of the life that he had left behind in Portland. Now that it was here, it was a sign that he needed to pull out his credit card and put together a house that looked like a grown man of thirty-four lived there. Looking around the displays, he feels completely out of his element and can't help but remember when he was happily picking everything out with the woman who now no longer carried his last name.

"Hi, welcome to Crate & Barrel!" Your voice chimes from the front counter, as full of positive pep as you can possibly be for nine on a Sunday morning. Not having the same sunny Texas accent as your co-workers usually means having to be twice as friendly just to hit the same perception of approachability, and being new on management means going even further, so when you look up to properly greet your new customer, you're fully prepared to force a bright smile. No force, it seems, will be necessary today. The man who's just walked in is not only exceptionally cute, but looks like he's going to need plenty of help. "What can I help you with today?"

Giving a slight chuckle, Marcus drops his hand and gestures around. "Everything?" It's more of a question than a statement and he's feeling a little - okay, a lot - out of his element. "I, uh, I just moved here, and I have four suitcases, an air mattress and one single painting." He admits, feeling foolish for telling Amanda that she could have everything. He should have at least taken the spare bedroom set; it wasn't like there were too many memories of the two of them intertwined on it.

"Well, let's get started then." Pushing out from the counter, you murmur to your coworker to page if she needs you, giving a gentle tap to the walkie-talkie in your ear, and walk over to the door. He seems intimidated and a little embarrassed - which isn't unusual for people who come into the store looking to start a whole new household - so you offer him a much less forced smile. "We can start out with the big stuff in furniture, or we can start small with kitchen stuff and dishes. It's up to you." You'll stick with him, rather than pass him off to the slightly aggressive, more-than-slightly judgmental furniture specialist you have on staff this morning. He seems like he needs a gentle hand.

"My back would be eternally grateful to have a bed instead of that damned air mattress." He admits, flashing a small grin. "I've forgotten this is not my Sigma Phi days where we went camping every weekend." He looks around, and chews on his lip as he imagines furniture around the painting. He didn't want the styles to clash since he was particularly fond of that piece.

"Bedroom stuff first, then." Motioning for him to follow you, you head for the escalator to the second floor where most of your furniture is shown. "We don't have a whole lot here in the store for you to take home, but we'll do our best to find you something in stock in the warehouse and we can get it to you in about a week. Does that sound okay?" If he's sleeping on an air mattress, it means he truly has nothing at all at home, poor guy. And a big move coupled with having nothing at all usually means divorce. You keep walking, leading him through showroom set ups of living rooms and home offices until you hit bedroom displays. "What's your style? Traditional? Modern? Avant Garde?"

"I have a painting that would probably explain it better than I ever could?" He had snapped a photo of the painting just for this, so he could hopefully hand it off to someone who could steer him in the right direction. It had been amusing to Amanda that he had a minor in art studies and work in art crimes but had zero clue about interior design and how to put a room together. He pulls out his phone to show you the picture that he had taken.

"Oh, wow..." A lot of people come in with pictures on their phones. Living room furniture that they want to match some pillows to, or a dining set that they want to try to dress up. But you don't normally see anything that really catches your eye. This guy might actually be fun to work with - if his taste in art is any indication. "So, something a little out of ordinary, then? Comfy with a twist." Against the wall, there are a few bedroom sets with sleigh beds, iron frames, and big four-posters. "Maybe we can start over there?" You suggest, nudging him in their direction. Something about that painting makes you think that a basic wood frame or upholstered headboard isn't quite going to do it for him.

"That sounds great. Comfy with a twist." He nods and lets you lead him over to the selection and he starts looking around. "Something that I can read comfortably in before bed." He had hated the way that the headboard of his old bed had jammed against his spine, and he had to angle his head awkwardly no matter how many pillows he had shoved behind his back.

“So no wrought iron, I’m guessing?” You grin at the bed he’s just walked directly past without even looking. “Take a look at the four-posters in the corner. They have tall headboards.” Trailing a step behind him, you try very, very hard not to let your eyes linger. No checking out the customer’s ass. You lecture yourself.

He feels slightly guilty for the impression that you are gorgeous, even though he has no reason to feel that way. He's single, he's allowed to look, especially since he had discreetly checked your hand to see if you were wearing rings. It was shocking since it was the first time he had really done that since he had signed the papers six months ago. "Okay, which bed screams 'cuddle with me all morning'?" He asks with a gesture towards the different headboards.

“Depends on if you’re talking about pets or people.” It’s a joke you’ve made with customers before, but a glance at his hand proves you’re right about the divorce - there’s the bare evidence left of a tan line there. It’s been a few months, but not too long. You don’t want to spook him with any accidental comments. “With pets, I’d say go for something low to the ground. With people?” You flush slightly, heat flooding your cheeks, but try to be helpful with a dose of honesty. “I would stay away from anything with built-in storage. No one wants a book falling on their head during…cuddles.”

He laughs, immediately feeling better about all of this and appreciating that you can look at things practically. "Noted. No built-in storage. Height doesn't matter because I work too much to have a pet. It would be cruel to keep a dog in a cage all day while I'm at work. Or at a kennel when I'm out of town on a case."

“Case?” One eyebrow arches at him automatically. “What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking.”

"Oh." He hadn't really meant to say that, not wanting you to get the impression he was trying to use his profession as a way to brag. "I, uh, I work for the FBI." He admits, flushing slightly and giving you an embarrassed smile.

“Very cool.” There’s no sarcasm in it, no malice or envy, just an honest reaction. A lot of people look down on people who make a career out of retail, but he doesn’t seem like he would be that way from your brief interaction. “So you’re here in Austin?” Your favorite coffee shop is right by the FBI building downtown, you’ve seen it more times than you can count at this point.

"Yeah." He relaxes a little after there isn't the normal questions of if he carries a gun or his least favorite: if he's shot someone. Why people immediately start fixating on shootouts never ceases to confuse and irritate him. "Transferred from Portland. I work in art crimes." He tells you with a half grin. "Good way to put my minor in art to use."

You have to smile at that. He doesn’t immediately start beating his chest about fighting crime like most guys in law enforcement do, which is such a relief. The last thing you want to hear about is shootout statistics. “Hence the one thing you have with you being a painting.”

"Exactly." His grin widens and he nods towards the four-poster bed with a high headboard that isn't curved and has a low slung footboard. "I like this." He tells you, looking back towards you for approval. "It kind of gives me a mid-century vibe without being too mid-century."

“That’s pretty much what we do here. We call it mid-century modern.” Following him to a large canopy bed, you have to immediately banish the mental image of him sprawled out under the covers, attributing it to the fact that he’s cute and you desperately need to get laid. “See what you think.” You offer, motioning to the bed itself. “We sell the mattresses, too.”

He gives you a very distinctly impish look before he flops down on the soft mattress and bedding and gives out a nearly pornographic moan of pleasure. After weeks of wondering why he didn't just go get a bed from the nearest store, his entire body aches in relief at being cradled by real support. "This is— have you tried this?" He asks, not even lifting his head up and patting the other side of the bed. "Dear god, lay down and feel this."

“I don’t normally lay down on the clock.” He’s too cute, and you can’t help but grin at him. The image he presents - of being flat out in a comfy bed in the bright morning light (seriously, why is this bed strategically placed under direct lighting like that?) is cozy and nearly fuzzy in a way that reminds you that it has been way too long since you got laid. You roll your eyes at yourself - it’s just a sale and he’s just another customer - and set yourself down on the mattress. Unfortunately, it’s early and you’re tired and you sigh out loud immediately. “Because I’ll get comfy and never want to move,” you finish the thought with a laugh.

"This definitely has breakfast in bed vibes." Marcus's head lolls over to the side and he can't help but admire your profile. The itch to sketch you surprises him and he tries to rationalize it by reminding himself that you are beautiful, someone who would be an art subject. "I think this is the one." He says, more to himself than to you and he's immediately telling himself not to go there.

“The mattress, too, I’m thinking?” You pull yourself up so you can’t get too comfortable and produce a notepad from the pocket of your work pants. That, combined with the iPad you have that serves as a product database, means you don’t have to leave him as you walk around the store collecting ideas.

"I think so." Marcus is pretty decisive, and it seems to be the perfect combination of firmness and comfort that won't have him tossing and turning at night. "It's not like I'm going to be...never mind." He bites off the comment about testing it out to make sure it doesn't creak too much, remembering giggling happily with his ex-wife the last time he had picked out a bed. With her.

“I don’t want to be rude…” But you see it a lot. All the time. At least once a week for the entire time you’ve had this job. “But building a home from scratch on top of a big move usually also means a breakup?”

Marcus sits up and looks down at his now bare ring finger and gives a sigh. "That obvious, huh?" He asks, snorting slightly and sending you a side eyed look. "My divorce was final months ago, before I transferred to Texas. I let her have everything but the one painting that I brought with me."

“I see it a lot,” you assure him, not wanting him to feel put on the spot or like you pity him. It sucks, but shit happens. “I’d say I help someone start over after a divorce about once a week, to be honest.”

"Jeez." Marcus mumbles, feeling slightly better in knowing that he's not the only one, although it can sometimes feel like it. "I guess that's something." He pauses and gives a small shrug. "We got married out of college and....I don't know— I thought we were good and she came home about ten months ago and told me that she was in love with one of her coworkers."

“Shit,” you blow out a puff of air, full sympathy written on your face, before you cringe. “I mean shoot…not supposed to swear in front of customers.” But you offer him a small shrug, silently saying you didn’t think he would care. “I’m sorry. That sounds really hard. Normally I say starting over is the time to let yourself have fun. There’s got to be something she would have hated that you love. Even if it’s silly like having a favorite glass, or big like wanting a leather couch and she hated leather furniture.”

He chuckles and nods. "Why do you think I have that painting?" He asks, feeling slightly conspiratorial. "She hated it."

“See?” Smiling broadly, you really hope you can make this a little more pleasant and less tortuous for him. Starting over is hard. “We can start there.”

"Yeah." He likes the way that you smile, hoping that he can see more of it while you help him put his life back together. Or at least his home. "I never understood why she didn't like it. It's amazing and the artist has since become a very popular modern artist."

“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.” The best you can do is shrug, because if she was willing to give up this man - a work of art in his own right - then of course she might not appreciate a beautiful painting. “Is the painting going in your bedroom?” You ask, suddenly having a small moment of inspiration.

"I was thinking so, yeah." He nods and admires the thoughtful look on your face.

“Can I show you something?” When he nods, your smile spreads a little. “There’s a blue in that painting…we have a bedroom set that’s just like it.” Two room settings away, you show him a dresser, bureau, and nightstand in the same beautiful shade of indigo as is showcased in his painting. “A little pop of color? Maybe?”

He chews his lip and stares at the furniture, thinking about where it would be put in his room with the painting in perspective. "I— I think I like that." He had never mixed furniture like that before, but he doesn't hate it.

“You can take some time to think about it.” Furnishing a whole place is a big deal, you know that. The last thing you want is to push him to something he’ll end up disliking. “We can look at some others, and at some sheets, blankets, that kind of thing.”

"Okay." He agrees even though he knows he won't change his mind. He's pretty firm in his decisions once he's made up his mind.

“Across the way,” you motion for him to turn around. Across a small threshold is a big room full of bedding and bath things. “There’s cotton, linen, hemp, all kinds of good stuff. Some people are incredibly picky about materials, and some just care about the pattern. I don’t know which kind of person you are.”

"Soft and comfortable." Marcus tells you immediately. "No floral shit." He grimaces. "Easy to clean. I like to bleach the sheets."

“All the linen things are machine washable.” It’s easy to guide him around. He moves easily wherever you do, and it’s comfortable rather than making you feel crowded. “Soft, cool, comfy, and I wouldn’t recommend bleach, but there are a bunch of good bleach alternatives for use on coloured fabric that would be safe on patterns.” Beside the florals and pastel colors, there is a collection of sheets and duvet covers inspired by menswear that you lead him toward. Pinstripes and warm tones and a flourish of different kinds of grays. “These might be a good place to start?”

He points to the pinstripes. "I like those."

“You’re very decisive.” You laugh, grinning at certainty in his expression.

He laughs with you, not minding that you are making fun of him a little. "It's gotten me in trouble a few times."

“In this case, I think we’ll be okay. I’ve never known bedding to be a life-or-death situation.” His laugh is sweet and musical, and you grab the bedding set he’s picked out from the shelf for him. “What else are you going to want for that room? A lamp for the nightstand? A mirror?”

"Yeah." He looks around and realizes exactly how much he has to buy. "I do enjoy reading before bed." He admits, knowing that he will have books piled up on the stand quickly.

“This is going to get overwhelming kind of fast.” The look on his face is the mild panic you see quite a lot. Nobody ever thinks about how much stuff is in their house until they go to fill one up on purpose. “Tell me when you need to take a break, okay? We can always split this into two days, or even three if you need to. Shopping can be…a lot.”

Marcus shakes his head. "I'm fine." He slides into an easy grin. "Just wondering how badly my credit card is going to be protesting."

You hum a little at that, nodding, and try not to laugh. He didn’t exactly come to the cheapest store in the world. “We have a store credit card,” you tell him with a small shrug. “The rewards program is pretty good. If we did all your furniture and housewares stuff on it today, we can save the rugs and mirrors and decor stuff for a second shopping trip. Using the rewards on them would probably cover most of not all of the cost depending on what you pick out.” And it is not - repeat not – an ulterior motive so that you can see him again. Definitely not. Alright, maybe a little.

Marcus puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head at you in amusement. "I have to tell you...you're dangerous." He compliments, knowing that he will definitely be coming back here if for no other reason to see you. "Are you going to come help me decorate when I get it all delivered too?"

“I just really like my job!” You defend with a laugh, managing to cover your mouth before it becomes a truly amused snort. “And we do do in-home furniture consultations, for the record.”

He tells himself that his heart bumps because he's happy that you are comfortable enough to laugh freely and not because there is a chance you might like him beyond a client. You said consultation, not friend. "I might have to sign up for that." He warns you before he chuckles himself.

“We can do that.” Normally you wouldn’t be one of the people who does them, but you just finished up with your Design Expert training and fuck if you’re going to let someone else work with him in his own home. Not when his smile makes you want to giggle like it fucking does. You really need to get some. “If you want to, I mean. Sometimes it can really help to visualize the space.”

"Absolutely." Marcus agrees quickly when you say we. He flushes slightly and then asks. "Would— it would be you that comes, right?" He hopes so but will understand if it won't be you. He couldn't be that lucky.

“It can be.” Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it. He’s just gotten divorced and doesn’t need you getting all doe-eyes on him. “If you want to do that, I’d say let’s save the most difficult or biggest room for an in-home visit. Most people want to do living rooms or eat-in kitchen and dining combos.” You’re really trying your best to be professional and not bat your damn eyelashes at him but it’s hard when he’s just standing there being that effortlessly cute. “But it’s your house, of course.”

"I was thinking that you could do more of the finishing touches?" He asks, wondering how all of this works. "The stuff that brings everything together?"

“Sure.” Your lips pull into a flushed smile, and you know the tips of your ears are burning. “Let’s find you some furniture for each room that can be delivered relatively quickly, and then we can schedule an in-home visit to pull it all together.” This would make him your regular customer for at least the next three or four weeks, and you will absolutely be gloating to your roommate about it all later tonight.

Marcus grins, knowing that his dimple is on display, and he likes the way that you look away, slightly shy all of a sudden. "That's good. Although the coffee maker comes home with me today." He groans, tired of having to stop by a coffee shop every day, although the one near his office is amazing.

“Cross my heart.” You promise, even though you’re feeling a little like melting into the floor. How is one dimple cuter than two?? “Maybe let’s move to the dining and kitchen things, then? Since you picked out your bedroom set so fast?”

He winces and gives you a slightly guilty look. "Uh...I need bathroom stuff too." He admits. "I have like two towels. But my condo did come with a washer and dryer, so there's that."

“We can do that.” A few feet to the left and you’re in the bath section anyway, you just have to keep it in your goddamn pants and not imagine him using the towels. “Can I suggest 800-gram Turkish cotton towels in white for the comfy gentleman who likes to bleach things?”

He snickers and nods. "Don't tell me bleach doesn't belong on towels." He warns you, faking a slightly cross and yet playful tone. "I like to make sure the towels I dry off with are clean, otherwise I should just air dry."

“Not at all towels are compatible with bleach, but luckily for you, we have some nice ones that are.” Dear god, air dry? He’s going to kill you without trying. “I’m not going to completely up-end your life with a towel revolution, I promise.”

He loves the banter between the two of you and reaches out to touch one of the towels that are piled up, enjoying the softness. "Although now I can't be gripped at for just walking around naked." He muses. "I might just get towels for guests."

Are you fucking KIDDING me?! You exhale very slowly and as silently as possible so it’s not completely obvious that you are wondering what precisely was wrong with this woman who didn’t want to see him naked, and end up chuckling slightly. “Whatever you want,” you offer with a weak shrug. “It's your house now. Time to be comfortable in your own way.”

He hums at the thought of that. He had been comfortable in the house that he and Amanda had furnished, even if he hated the ten thousand pillows to take off and put on the bed every morning. So that would be a no go. "I want casual comfort. Cuddling on the couch while watching Casablanca comfort." He tells you, knowing that at some point he is going to want to date again. He's the type of man who wants to have a woman to shower with affection.

“Such a good movie,” you gush immediately. It’s just a gut reaction, but since he’s just named one of your top five all-time favorite films, you’re not going to be embarrassed about it or anything. “So…towels that are fluffy, but you can bleach. A sofa that’s big enough to sleep on but doesn’t have a fussy fabric that needs special care. And…all dinnerware and glassware will be dishwasher safe?” It’s all just a guess, but as you get to know him a little through his choices, the picture is becoming clearer. “Except wine or cocktail glasses. Those are never actually dishwasher safe even if the manufacturer claims they are.”

He nods. "Definitely. I hated when I had to handwash the china we got for a wedding gift." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "And microwaveable too."

“But.” A small smile plays on your lips and your shrug playfully. “If you’re going to be cuddling and watching movies, you’re going to need at least one throw blanket.”

"Where do I find the ‘person to cuddle’ section?" He jokes, looking around the store. "Right now I’m going to pillows for that, but yes to throw blankets. At least two."

“Um…” You fluster – fully and completely lose your cool for a solid five seconds – and know you must look like a complete idiot right now. But it’s not as though anyone could ever accuse you of being able to play it cool. “The…um, there’s a lot of blankets and pillows. I’m sure we can find you something.” Yep. Great job. Now you look like a moron when he very clearly did not mean you. He was just making a joke.

There is something absolutely adorable about the way that you freeze, and Marcus bites his lip, not wanting to read too much into it and make you think that he's a creep. "Lead the way and I will follow." He promises you quietly.

For once grateful for your own diligence, you’ve been taking note of everything he’s been picking out as you talk and it makes it easy to move out of the room you’re standing in and start toward the other side of the sales floor to the sofas, side chairs, media consoles, coffee tables, and all other manner of living room furniture. “How big of a space do you have for a living room?” It’s such a polite and professional question, but your ears and cheeks are burning, and you need to keep on track before you embarrass yourself in front of him.

"It's pretty big." He flushes slightly because of the tone he had used; he could have definitely been alluding to something else. "Uh, the living room is a good size." He corrects himself, turning to look at the sectional and kicking himself mentally for that faux pas.

Yep. He’s going to give you a coronary and it’s still the very beginning of the day. You clear your throat softly and nod, forcing yourself to look at where his attention has gone. “So a sectional and an accent chair? Coffee table that doubles as storage so you can keep your throw blankets in it?”

"Yeah. I like that." He nods eagerly, trying to remind himself that he is not here to make an ass out of himself. "Not a small one. One big enough to stretch out comfortably on." He tells you, bypassing a smaller sectional. "I'm hoping it rains sometimes? Take a nap on the couch with the rain coming down outside? It's the best sleep."

“Try this one.” There’s something akin to a blush on his cheeks and you’re trying not to read into it, but you’re basically putty for this man that you’ve known for a mere half hour. Nodding him over to one side, you sit down on a big, deep sectional that may as well be a goddamn twin bed for how comfortable it is. It’s your favorite sofa in the whole store and you’ve been thinking about buying one for ages. It sounds like he might like it just as much.

Marcus sits down and immediately purses his lips in happiness. "Oooh." He wiggles a little deeper into the cushions and hums again. "Oh, this is nice." He tells you before he decides to lay down on the long portion of the sectional with his head close to your thighs where you are sitting on the other portion. For a split second he wants to move his head over to your lap, but he grabs one of the throw pills and sighs. "You have the best beat on furniture."

“When I transferred to this store my choices were furniture specialist or management.” You shrug, not trying to brag but just giving him a little insight into who you are at this job. “I took a combo. I’m the manager for the furniture department.”

"No shit?" Marcus tilts his head up so that he can look up at you. "That's a very good testament that you excel at your job." He tells you, impressed that you weren't given an either/or option.

“Started in housewares as a holiday hire eight years ago.” You shrug again, ever so slightly, and tuck your legs under you on the sofa. “I'm originally from upstate New York. Way upstate. So I get that moving down here can be culture shock, but we can do our best to make your new place feel like home.”

He jams his hand under the pillow and shifts slightly so he can look at you better. "What caused you to come to Texas? Boyfriend?" He tries to seem nonchalant, but he is extremely interested in that answer.

“It’s not a fun story or anything like that.” Shuffling a little, you love that he’s engaging with you and not just treating you like a servant, like so many people do. “Basically, I wanted to start fresh. So I decided to apply for promotions to a bunch of different stores in the company and ended up picking Austin. My college roommate was from Texas and I had visited her family down here once and liked it. She had just moved back here and I figured it wouldn’t be so bad if I had a friend. So…here I am.”

"Gotcha." He admires the adventurous spirit and yet the practicality of not moving somewhere where you know no one. "Well, I count myself extremely lucky to have you here with me today." He tells you as his hand brushes over the fabric and he thinks of something that he wants. "So, will I lose points if I ask if this comes in leather?" He asks, giving you a charming grin.

The grin you flash back at him is nearly matching, and you reach behind you to grab a handle of fabric samples from the arm of the sofa. A solid half of them are leather, in all sorts of beautiful colors. “We can definitely do leather.”

"How much of a basic bitch would I be if I wanted black leather?" He asks, arching an eyebrow at you and waiting for your reaction.

You snort, not fast enough to cover your mouth to muffle it this time, and shake your head at him. The fact that he’s opening up and having fun just makes him so much fucking cuter. “Pretty basic. But I won’t hold it against you.”

He can't help but shoot up off the sofa so he is sitting up, practically giddy with glee. "You snort!." He cackles, having a thing for girls who snort when they laugh. He will have to make you do it again.

“Not on purpose!” But you’re laughing because he’s laughing, and you can feel every inch of your skin set of goddamn fire with flushing. He’s…like a puppy. What kind of crazy was his ex to ever let him go?

"That's the best part!" He moves the pillow over and slides next to you. "It's always so cute." He admits, flushing slightly before he looks at the fabric samples. "So don't be embarrassed."

“I’ll try not to be.” It would be completely unprofessional to kiss the divorcé in the middle of the sales floor, you remind yourself, shifting a half an inch where you sit so you’re sitting beside him. For your own sanity, the best thing you can do is try to keep the sale going, even if you no longer give a flying fuck about what he buys and only about getting his number. “I do have to inform your inner basic bitch, though, that special ordering a sectional in black leather will take a god-awful long time. Smoke Grey always comes in faster and won’t suck up all the light in the room by being a literal black hole.” The cosmic joke of the universe is you, today, it seems. Because as you go to show him the color sample, your hand grazes his slightly and you swear you nearly burst into flames.

“Which one would you pick?” He asks curiously, wanting to know how your own style runs and not because he’s imagining curling up with you on this sofa and snuggling while the rain beats down or whatever passes for winter in Texas happens outside. His stomach flip from a simple hand graze and he knows he wants to ask you out now.

“Honestly?” It feels so juvenile to be fluttering over a tiny touch and a simple question, but here you are. “I would go for the grey. It’s a little more sophisticated and a little less bachelor pad, with the added benefit of being faster to deliver.”

He nods and gives it careful consideration. “I don’t want to look like a bachelor pad. Even if it’s what it will be.” He admits, looking over at you for your approval. “Grey it is.”

“Being a bachelor pad is fine. Looking like a stereotype will get old really fast.” You nod a little, still waiting for your fucking heart rate to return to normal, but it’s beginning to look like it’s just never going to happen. “Now…are you the sort of person who wants as much furniture as possible to match? Coffee and end tables matching, and then media console and bookshelves matching? You said it’s big, so I’m assuming you can do a lot with it.” As soon as the sentence is put of your mouth you realize how it could sound and you could just about die. “The space, I mean. You said the space is big.”

Marcus Pike does have a dirty sense of humor and the twenty-year-old frat boy that seems to live inside every grown man makes him snicker and shoot you a playfully provocative look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asks.

Yes. Yes you fucking would. You clear your throat slightly and know you’ve been caught looking flushed. “Fine,” you try for your best teasing tone. “Live in your black leather bachelor pad with no snorting laughter. See if I care.”

He pouts, face immediately falling, and he manages to poke his bottom lip out a little even though he hopes you are playing with him. “Noooo, I want the snorts.” He whines slightly, “I’ll be good.”

“Oh my god,” that makes you giggle a lot more than you were expecting, and you end up grinning at him like a smitten idiot. Which - to be fair - is exactly what you are at this point. “Fearsome FBI agent begs for snorting laughter. Excellent headline.”

He grins at you and gives a small wink. “Don’t tell anybody.” He murmurs. “They might take away my badge.”

Of course he winks. You could fucking melt into the sofa from how cute this man is. “I promise. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good.” He looks over at the coffee tables and sees one a display over. “Grey…would this go with it?” He asks, standing up and moving away reluctantly but he is here to furnish his condo. He leans down and brushes his fingers over the wooden top of the coffee table.

“Good eye.” It’s stupid to be upset that he moved away from you, considering your job is to sell him things and not to flirt, and you get up to follow him with an approving nod. “That would work perfectly. And it has matching end tables, too.”

“Good.” He nods quickly, imagining a few art books on top. “Now do we get to try out blankets? Two of them, big enough to wrap around two people.”

“Behind you.” Directing him to turn around, you nudge him toward a full corner display of throw blankets and pillows in a flurry of different colors, textures, patterns, and sizes. “This is the fun part. Accessorizing.”

“I’ll choose one and you choose one.” Marcus decides with a grin, walking over and plunging his hands into the soft fabrics and giving a soft moan of delight.

He’s adorable, just diving in headfirst and enjoying the little details mercilessly, and you bite back a grin as you head to the other side of the display to grab a few things.

He picks the softest, biggest blanket he could find. Didn’t even give a damn that it was purple. Actually likes it. “This is mine.” He tells you seriously, holding it up like a trophy.

“Oooh, that’s a good one.” You nod seriously, before coming over with the creamy, off-white one that happens to be your favorite. “This one is dry clean only, but it’s so soft.”

Dry clean only isn’t his idea of low maintenance but the look on your face has him nodding even before he reaches for it. “So blankets are done. Now we need lamps.”

“Keep going around the corner.” With as decisive as he is, this is going a lot faster than most customers, despite the fact that you’re doing up his entire condo. “You’re flying right through this.”

“Oh.” He stumbles slightly when he realizes that when he’s done he won’t have a reason to spend time with you. “So that means that I can buy you lunch for all your hard work when you have a break, right?” He asks, hoping that he’s not stepping over a boundary.

“Oh, um…” you stop in your tracks, shuffling a little, and feel a smile split across your face. “Yeah…” Breathe. Remember to breathe. “I-I’d, um…I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” The breath he had been holding whooshes out and possibly the biggest smile he’s had in a long time covers his face and it nearly forces his eyes closed. “Good, I’m mean– yeah.” He rushes. “Let’s get this done then.”

“We still have a whole kitchen and dining room left,” you remind him, not that you’re not now eager as fuck for the workday to already be over. Glancing eagerly at the time on your iPad, you nearly groan at the fact that it’s only been an hour. It feels like forever and at the same time that it’s been no time at all since he walked through the front doors. Your lunch break is far too far away, as far as you’re concerned. “Maybe we can make it so that you don’t have to use paper plates and plastic forks anymore.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “No paper plates. Take out cartons.” He corrects with a small shrug. “I don’t even have a coffee maker, so cooking is out of the question.” He gives you a grin. “I really hope you get some kind of commission on this.” He offers. “Because I need a lot.”

Still smiling like a lunatic from his invitation, you give him a slight shrug and shake your head. “No commission. But I, um…I’d rather have that lunch invitation than commission.”

"Then I'll have to make it lunch and dinner." He immediately replies, his eyes widening slightly and a flush making his cheeks turn pink when he realizes he had said that out loud. "If you want, of course."

The delight you feel at seeing him blush is pretty close to ethereal - men who blush are fucking adorable - and you keep him moving toward dining tables with a happy hum and continued smile. “I was actually going to go downtown tonight…there’s a small theater around here that plays a black and white movie every Sunday night. Tonight is Sunset Boulevard, which I can never resist.”

"That– that sounds great." He stammers slightly, and can't believe that you are inviting him to a movie. Normally he was the one that was suggesting date nights with Amanda.

“Yeah?” The nervous thump on your chest relaxes measurably. “You mentioned Casablanca earlier, so I hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

"As long as you let me pay of course." He shrugs slightly. "Since there is no commission and then maybe dinner after? I've found a really nice little steakhouse that has a decent wine menu."

“I have a feeling I won’t win, if I try to argue the point of payment.” You wing one eyebrow at him but it’s just soft teasing. Since arriving in Texas, it’s become apparent that the old-fashioned spirit of men paying for dates is alive and well. “That sounds perfect.”

Marcus can't even stop grinning as he nods, looking away even as he starts mentally looking through his wardrobe to wear something a bit better than his jeans and t-shirt that he's wearing now. "It's a date."

A date. You hold back an excited shiver and wonder vaguely if you have anything remotely approaching date clothing clean. “Are you ready to look at dining tables and chairs?” As much as you would happily kill the next few hours just talking to him, this is the way you do it without getting yelled at.

Marcus gives you a side eyed look and tucks his tongue into his cheek. "So when is your lunch?" He asks, lifting a brow. "I need to figure out how much time I have to leave you so I don't appear creepy for spending too much time with you."

You laugh quietly, doing a very bad job at not sounding guilty, and lightly tap the headset settled tightly in your ear. “I’m afraid it’s slightly too late to go unnoticed,” you admit. Your lovely, nosy coworkers have been making noises in your ear about how cute he is and how he’s flirting with you for fifteen minutes already. You were about ready to rip your headset out, but you couldn’t dignify it with anything but being embarrassed. “I have about an hour and a half before lunch, though. If you want, we can skip over dining furniture for now and go to plates and cups and kitchen things? Stuff you can take home with you and use right away?”

"Whatever is easiest for you." Marcus is a little more relaxed now that he knows that you are going to go out with him tonight. "I have a pretty good idea that we are going to be hauling a lot of stuff out to my car."

“You’re famously decisive,” you tease, offering him a bright smile. “So it shouldn’t take too long. I think we can get it all done before my lunch.” You absolutely flipping need to, so you don’t spend more than three hours with one customer, but you definitely don’t say that. Instead, you offer: “If not, I guess you’ll just have to come back and see me again.”

"Oh, you can count on that." Marcus assures you with a grin. "I'm one thousand percent positive that I will be back."

“See?” It’s too good - you can’t help how your face is about to split from smiling. “Decisive. I like that.”

"What can I say?" He asks with a shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets so he doesn't tuck the hair that is out of place behind your ear. "I know what I like."

The way he says it is crystal clear that he isn’t talking about furniture, and you have to look away for a second to actually get yourself back together. If you don’t, you’ll spontaneously combust before you even get to lunch. “Tell me about how you eat.” You force yourself back into the headspace of selling just a little bit further. “Is dinner usually over the sink? On the couch? Or do you like to sit down to a meal?”

"When I'm by myself it's normally on the couch while I watch the news or a baseball game." He admits, with a shrug. Oftentimes - towards the end - he had eaten apart from Amanda due to their conflicting work schedules. Or at least what he had thought was conflicting work schedules. "When I'm with someone I do like to sit down and talk with them. Listen to their day or whatever. Relax together."

“So you’re pretty normal.” There’s a slight melancholy to his voice that you don’t like, and you keep yourself bright and positive to try to banish it. “What about having friends over? I know you just got here, but it won’t take too long before you start making friends at work. Is something like a dinner party or Friendsgiving in the distant future?”

"I can see that happening in the future, but for now, the basics would be fine." He doesn't want to jinx himself by planning for a future that might not happen anytime soon.

You nod, not wanting to guide him toward anything that will upset him or he’ll regret, and motion to a dining set a few feet away. “Maybe something like this?” A small, square table with four matching chairs sits comfortably with some of your newer dinnerware showcased on top, and you bite your lip while he takes a first look. “It’s an extension table,” you explain as he looks around it. “It basically doubles in size when both extensions are in place, but you won’t have to stare at an overly large table taking up a ton of space when you’re not in the mood.”

He hums and looks around it, bending down to look under the table and tugs on a leaf so that it starts to expand. "This is a lot better than the tables from our childhood. Having to store the extra piece somewhere and then dust it off when company came over." He muses, impressed with the piece. The dining room table he and Amanda had was one of those type things, given to them by her mother and he'd hated the heavy piece but had eaten many meals on it.

“Believe me, we have a ton like that.” Gently reaching past him, you flip up the Final Sale tag on the table and show him the fact that the damn thing is even half off. “I just like this one better. It’s a little sleeker and a lot lighter.”

Marcus chuckles and knows that he is going to buy this table. Not necessarily because it's half off, even though that is a good thing. More like he's entrusting your expertise and so far you've not steered him towards anything he's hated. It seems as if you either have similar taste or you've got him pegged. Plus if it's something you like...that's a bonus he really doesn't want to acknowledge right now. "Well now I have to buy it." He tells you, eyeing the price and admitting it's a good deal.

Going through almost the entire rest of the store does take a while. All the furniture, kitchen things, dishes, glasses, and other little things take a while to pick through; but in the end Marcus seems genuinely satisfied with what he’s chosen and you’re looking at a sale that runs perilously close to half of the entire day’s sales goal. There is a full cart’s worth of product that is going to be loaded into his car today, a whole other load that will be delivered to his place later in the week, and then probably two full furniture trucks in the weeks after that. It’s staggering, but after this anything he needs to buy for his house will be small and inconsequential. Standing at a cash register with him, you go through every point and product before getting to his personal information. “Marcus…” you prompt him for his last name, since introductions earlier had been highly informal between you.

He can't help but giggle at the fact that you hadn't even exchanged last names but you had scheduled a date. "Pike." He tells you, pulling out his wallet to hand you his already transferred Texas driver's license. It was easier to let you see how to spell the street he lived on than try to spell it. He learned that when he had that sandwich shop deliver the first night he was in the condo. "Marcus Pike."

“Oh, you gotta be—” You nearly burst out laughing, hand clamping down over your mouth so you don’t swear on the sales floor or draw attention. You hold up his license, trying to hold in the disbelieving laughter. “Does the condo next door to you have a gnome by the front door and a vegetable garden in back?”

He tilts his head, curious to know how you could possibly know something like that. "Yeaaaaah." If he hadn't just spent hours in your company, he would have been more concerned instead of just a mild alarm that you would know that specific detail.

You just laugh, shaking your head at the whole thing, and sigh. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, neighbor.” It hadn’t particularly weighed on you that you’d never met the person who moved into the condo next door to you and your roommate a few weeks ago - not having the same nose for gossip that Texans seem to. The universe, however, was apparently going to make damn sure you met.

"Really?" Marcus normally is better about getting to know his neighbors than he had been this time, but hadn't wanted the questions just yet. Moreover, he didn't want to get the pity, although if he had known you were going to be his next-door neighbor, it might have been a different story. "This is..." He cranes his neck around the store as if he is looking for a hidden camera. "Are you sure this isn't some kind of joke?"

“If it is, it’s on both of us.” Quickly typing his address into the computer, you lean against the counter a little and laugh again. “I’d rather think that the universe really wanted to make sure we met.”

"Well, we can't disappoint the universe." He leans across the other side and gives you a grin. "It makes picking you up tonight extremely easy." He jokes, not even mentioning the fact that if things went well and someone spent the night with someone, the walk of shame was just a quick step next door. Not that he was expecting that, but the two of you seemed to have chemistry in spades.

Most of the time it would worry you a little - or at least you would have more caution about all of it - but despite him being licensed and required to carry a gun (let’s face it but most of Texas concealed carries) there’s nothing threatening about him at all. He’s just a really nice man that life kicked in the teeth. “And I think we can probably skip the pretense of needing a cup of sugar if you just want to knock on my door,” you tell him softly.

He tries not to let that comment filter into the dirty portion of his brain, the one that has already imagined what you look like naked – several times. However, he smirks slightly and edges in just a tiny bit closer. "And you know there will be a blanket you like if you want to come cuddle." He counters.

“Hmm.” Your ears are burning hot again and if you wouldn’t get in massive trouble for it, you’d close the three inches across the counter and kiss him right the hell now. “I’ll remember that,” you tell him with a conspiratorial smirk.

He hisses, feeling the blood rush to another place much further south and filling out the semi he's been sporting for hours as he watches your ass around the store. "I'm going to need those towels so I can take a cold shower before our date tonight. Unless you want me to drip dry." He murmurs, nodding to the stack you had placed on a cart.

Feeling your eyes widen, you cover your mouth immediately to keep from giggling and giving yourself away. “You’re gonna get me in trouble,” you snicker under your breath. “All this talk about cuddles and drip drying…a girl can only take so much before she spends the rest of the day distracted.” And you are far, far past that threshold…

"Good." Marcus' grin turns a bit naughty. "You can feel my pain considering I don't remember half of what I was buying. Too busy trying to see that pretty smile of yours again.'

“It wasn’t the snort that swept you off your feet?” You raise a teasing eyebrow at him as you force yourself back to the task at hand.

"It didn't hurt." He honestly hates that he's done shopping for today, even though he knows he will probably cry when he sees the total. "It was the cherry on top."

“Well,” you offer him a sympathetic expression. “You’re about to like me a lot less when you look at this total. I think it’s safe to say I’ll be treating for date number two.”

"Yikes." He winces and does a quick calculation on how badly it would hit his savings before he shakes his head. "What was that about the store credit card?" He asks with a huff even though he's delighted that you are already considering another date.

You can’t help but feel guilty, even if he was the one who chose to come in here to furnish his place instead of IKEA or going and shopping around to mix and match his place. He knew it was going to be pricey. “Wait a minute.” A flash of a grin sparks on your face and you turn to open a cabinet behind you at the counter, eventually coming up with a little promotional pamphlet that you flip open and scan into the computer. Fifteen percent off will go a very long way for him today. “We don’t do a lot of coupons and things here, but we do have one for people who just moved. Hugely helpful along with the card.”

Marcus frowns slightly and reaches out to touch your hand. "I don't want you to get in trouble for special favors." He tells you, hoping that you aren't trying to give him something that you shouldn't because you were neighbors, or that you like him. "I knew I was going to be spending a lot."

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you hesitate pulling your hand away but have to - because stupid work - but squeeze his fingers before you pull away. “It’s not special privilege, I just forgot. Because I have a very cute, very distracting customer.” Everything about your tone is light and teasing and meant to reassure him. Getting into trouble won’t help either of you. No. You just got hypnotized by beautiful brown eyes and completely forgot.

"Okay." That makes him feel better and he shoots you a grin. "What can I say? I was a boy scout. Technically Eagle Scout."

“I’m not surprised.” You chew on it, the hit of competitiveness in the back of your head, and smirk as you start the application for his credit card on the register. “I was a Girl Scout. And will happily break down for you all the ways in which my Gold Award was much more demanding and time consuming than your Eagle Award.” The wink you toss him is all in good fun.

He catches his lower lip on his teeth in surprise and breaks into another grin. At this point his face is starting to ache from how often he is smiling but he doesn't give a damn. "Really?" He huffs, shaking his head. "We will have to see about that." He glances over to the display that shows all of those important last-minute items that a person might need and snags a good bottle opener. "We might need this too if we are going to get into a measuring contest."

“I think it will get put to very good use.” Sitting in his empty living room with a bottle of wine and a few throw blankets before his sofa arrives actually sounds like an ideal night - like indoor camping - but you’ll just savor the thought until later.

He nods. "If you want to have a place to sit...I can drag the air mattress into the living room. Give you the complete 'look at this guy' effect." He jokes, snorting slightly at how bare his condo is.

“Or…” You shrug a little and start bagging up the last of his loose items to take home today. “You could just come over to my fully furnished place with a roommate who blessedly works nights, so she won’t be there breathing down our necks?” She wouldn’t. Naomi would give you your space and then ask endless questions later.

"I don't want to impose." He does though, he can't believe that both of you are discussing the possibility of spending the night if he wasn't misreading things. "Although it would be nice to sit on something other than an air mattress."

“It’s not imposing if I invite you…but we can decide later on.” There’s an unmistakable spark of excitement running through you, and it’s now so close to your lunch break that you could spit and hit it. “For now, let’s get this all wrapped up and I’ll have this brought to the back door. You can bring your car around back and we’ll help you load everything up.”

"Yes and you have to tell me where I am taking you for lunch." He winks at you, not having forgotten about that important thing that needs to happen first. He looks over at the computer and jerks his chin up. "So was I approved?" He asks, knowing he will be.

“Luckily for your empty condo, yes, you were.” Your eyes widen slightly when the print-out shows how high his line of credit is and you lay the slip in front of him like you would with any other customer. It’s inconsequential to you. “I know it’s not glamorous or anything, but on Sunday’s I usually go to the Panera in the mall around the corner for lunch.”

Marcus groans and nods. "French onion soup in a bread bowl and one of their massive cookies." He announces, eating there often himself. He glances at the approval amount and sees that it would cover all of today and whatever else he adds on the next visit. "Zero percent APR for twenty-four months?" He shoots you a grin. "Hell yes, I won't have to dip into my savings."

“Did you think I would steer you wrong?” Gentle teasing has been a thread through your morning with him and your broad smile widened again.

"I would say that the best decision I have made in a long time was coming into your store today and running into you." He admits, honesty shining in his eyes and he is eager to take you out to lunch where you are not worried about crossing a professional line and then again tonight.

“I’m very glad you did.” That is an incredible understatement, and you busy yourself with printing out his long receipt and folding everything neatly for him. “I can clock out in ten minutes. Why don’t I have someone help you load up your car? By the time that’s done, I should be able to go.”

He signs the credit card slip after you had charged it to his new account and gives you a quick nod. "Back door?" He asks, just wanting to double check.

“Just drive around the back of the building and park by the double glass doors. I’ll let them know you’re coming.” And you swear you’ll try not to look like a giddy lunatic in the meantime.

It's almost ridiculous how much effort it takes to turn around and walk away and he's extremely proud of himself for not turning around to get another look like he's a little kid with a crush. He makes it out of the store and reaches into his pocket for his keys before he gives a decidedly giddy little giggle of happiness that he was going on a date with you. "Get it together Pike." He murmurs after the moment has passed. "Get the shit loaded up and then you can moon like a schoolboy."

The two teens who are working in the backroom today don’t give it a second glance when you roll the cart full of Marcus’s items back to them and disappear again, grinning like a moron. Not reappaering again until nine minutes later on the dot, with your purse in hand. They’re just finishing up with Marcus right as you appear at the back door, and you bite your lip to keep from saying anything stupid or immaturely giddy. “All set?”

He is thankful that his car has a huge trunk and back seat, barely fitting everything in there so you can actually ride with him and you don't have to take your own car to a lunch he is taking you to. "Ready whenever you are." He assures you with a smile as he walks over to the passenger door and opens it for you.

“Such a Boy Scout.” You grin, but accept his hand to help you into the car and don’t even look back to see the smirks on the faces of the teens you work with. “Take a right out of the parking lot and you’ll be on the road for about thirty seconds before you see the sign. There’s just no way to get between our parking lot and theirs on foot.”

"Gotcha." He follows your directions and as he gets behind the wheel and starts it up. "How long do you have for lunch?" He asks, wanting to make a note of when he needs to have you back.

“Forty-five minutes.” Being alone with him is…exciting somehow. Like you’re doing something forbidden even though that is blatantly ridiculous because you’re both consenting adults. “Plenty of time, since we have tonight planned already.”

He nods, happy that you are at least getting a decent lunch break so you can unwind. "At least you don't have to deal with that asshole who came in and took up all your time this morning." He scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes as he turns into the correct parking lot.

“Mmmhmm,” you grin at him. “Can you believe that guy? The nerve of him to treat me like a human with dignity, and not a servant.”

The frown that comes over his face is swift and fierce, unhappy to say the least at the idea of people treating you like a servant rather than a helpful courtesy. "Please tell me that doesn't happen often?" He knows it's very likely, people act like entitled assholes towards retail workers but he doesn't have to like it.

“Don’t get all White Knight on me, Marcus.” It’s too late to take back the bad joke, even though you immediately regret it. “You know people are shitty to retail workers. I’m just glad I don’t work in food service anymore. The fact that waiters aren’t allowed to punch people is a crime.”

"Not going to get white knight on you." He promises. " I know very well that you can probably grind anyone to verbal dust with that wit of yours." He doesn't want to come across as the type to try to fix everything. That was something that had bothered Amanda a lot. Instead of just listening he had wanted to fix. "I personally think that punching people who are assholes to servers should result in the person getting punched getting a fine."

“White nights aren’t all bad.” When he parks the car you don’t get out right away, just turn to look at him and take off your seat belt. “It’s more about picking your battles. “And I chose a career in retail, so it’s entirely on me to be my own knight.”

"Doesn't mean I can't be upset when people don't have basic common decency, but you are right." He tells you. "You have a very stiff spine."

“A stiff spine and a particular fondness for men who still hold doors.” Reaching over quickly, you give his hand a little squeeze.

"I do like to hold doors." His heart thumps in his chest and he squeezes your hand back. "Now to get you fed as a thank you for helping me spend a lot of money today."

You stay put for the extra seconds it takes him to move around the car, regardless of the fact that you’re 100% capable of opening your door your damn self. It’s about the gesture, not any hidden judgment.

It’s busy inside but they’re quick, bringing you and Marcus up to the front of the line quickly. You have a feeling this break is going to fly by. He orders exactly what he said it was going to. The French onion bread bowl and a cookie, along with water since he had only had coffee this morning. Of course he had you order before him, making sure that you get whatever you want. It's not necessarily a grand gesture but he would rather you actually eat than order a salad in some attempt to pretend like you don't really eat. He hated when people would do that.

“Don’t look at me like that!” You laugh, when the skin between his eyebrows pinches. “It’s my favorite salad in the world. Every Sunday. Asian sesame chicken salad, iced tea, and a cookie.” It’s cute, the way his indignation paints itself like a pout on his stupidly perfect lips that you’ve been thinking about kissing for hours now. “If it will make you feel better, I promise to have a meat and potatoes dinner to prove I’m not dainty.”

"Okay." He gives you a slight pout. "I am just hoping that you aren't one of those women who feel like you have to show your dates you don't eat a lot. That shit's for the birds. Blueberry pancakes and bacon is where it's at."

“Oh my god, no,” you shake your head immediately. “You can pry my artisanal hipster premium bacon from my cold dead hands. And brisket. Holy shit, brisket is the best reason to move to Texas.”

He arches his eyebrow at you and hums. "I guess I will have to try it." He tells you with a small shrug. "I haven't gotten around to trying the world-renowned Texas brisket yet."

“Our neighborhood does block parties in the summer.” It’s a little weird to refer to it like that, but he is your neighbor. “Three doors down from you, the place that just always smells like a restaurant? Ted Brubaker does amazing brisket and ribs.”

"And now...I want ribs." He groans, rolling his eyes slightly. "So other than brisket and bacon, what else do you enjoy?"

"Let's see." You pretend to think very hard about it, but there aren't that many things that you really trip over yourself for anymore. "The first thing I did after unpacking when I got here was get a library card, and the second thing was find a good campground. I cook, hence the vegetable garden, and I like music." When his name is called from the window, you both nab your trays to find a table and get away from all the extra noise. "What about you?"

Marcus slides into the other side of a booth so that he can face you. “Well, I checked out the local museums and art galleries. Both professional and personal interest.” He tells you, passing you the cutlery he had picked up for you. “Haven’t had much time to do a lot else. This is the first weekend off I’ve had since I moved here.”

"No rest for the wicked, I guess?" It hurts your heart on his behalf that he hasn't had a lot of time to check out his new home - since exploration and discovery are exactly the things that will make this new place feel like an actual home.

"I guess so." He digs into the bread bowl and scoops up some of the soup and gives a small moan of pleasure at the taste. "It's always hectic, getting up to speed in a new office. They actually had quite a few open cases that I needed to study and get to know like the back of my eyelids."

"Besides the clear-cut stolen paintings, what else does art crimes entail, exactly?" Digging into your lunch, you crunch happily and ignore the gentle buzzing of your phone in your pocket every so often. Either Naomi is bored before she has to leave for work or your coworkers are curious; either way, Marcus has your full attention right now.

"Forgeries, money laundering, illegal imports." Marcus tells you. "Did you know that forged paintings are a 3.4 trillion-dollar worldwide enterprise?" He asks you before he takes another spoonful of his soup.

"Are you serious? Trillion?" You stop with a forkful of salad halfway to your mouth. "That's insane!"

He huffs and shakes his head slightly. "Yep." He pops the p and sends you an ironic look. "Tracked down by people who make a government salary."

"Fuckin a." Shooting him a wry smile, you shrug your shoulders. "I do swear for the record. A lot. Just can't do it around customers."

"Well that's a good thing, I won't feel bad when I slip up and say something." He gives you an exaggerated sigh of relief before he snickers. "I try not to swear too often but there are times when it's completely necessary. Stubbing your toe during the middle of the night on the way to the toilet, romantic times...the list goes on."

"Very subtle. Just slipping that right in." Alright, so you chose your phrasing very specifically in order to get the dirty joke. But he did start it.

He lifts his brow and gives a small, amused shrug. "I'm a man. Despite being a romantic at heart, I still think about sex a lot."

"Good." In all honesty, it's more comfortable for you if the topic of sex is out in the open and not something to be coyly beaten around like a prize to be won. "I'm fairly upfront about things, most of the time. Or at least I do my best to be. So people who pretend that sex is animal or beneath them when it's actually the only thing they're after? I hate that. Sex is great, I don't know why people have to act so holier-than-thou about it."

Marcus leans back and looks at you with pure admiration. “I like that attitude. Sex is great and people who deny that aren’t having the right kind.”

You snicker, forking up another bite of salad. "You look like I just handed you a giant Christmas present with your name on it."

“Do you blame me?” He asks. “It’s so easy to overstep and I don’t ever want to make someone feel objectified, so when they are just honest, I can tell them where I stand.”

Chewing quickly, you shake your head with certainty. "I don't blame you at all. I'm glad that the reaction was a positive one, honestly. I've been accused of being too forward in the past." Your most recent ex, in particular, had taken quiet offense to the fact that you 'undermined' his masculinity by not letting him kiss you first, and your whole sexual relationship had had an air of competition about it.

“Don’t worry about that with me.” Marcus assures you with a sardonic look. “Most of the time I was the one who was too forward. Or moved too quickly? I don’t know, it’s honestly been awhile. But I have to be level with you. I think you're a hell of good looking woman and I’d love to get to know you better.” He pauses and then gives you a small wink. “Maybe see you naked if you’re into it.”

It's his phrasing that takes you off guard, and you don't realize you're gaping at him a little until you shut your mouth to smile. You don't really take compliments well, most of the time. That wit of yours that he identified earlier is a decades-old coping mechanism and for once - for just this once - he's managed to crack through it for a second before you get it back. "Well," your smile turns lopsided, ears burning hot as a volcano now that you've essentially been given permission to have naughty thoughts about him. "It would be very un-neighborly to make you keep sleeping on that air mattress every night when I have a comfy bed big enough for two."

“Well, I can honestly say that if you were to spend the night at my house, I would hide the towels so you had to air dry.” He teases, remembering how you had reacted to his comments on that. He hadn’t missed it, just chose to bank the knowledge for the moment.

"Noted." Your lips twist on a slightly wry smirk. "So I'll be justified in hiding everything except my favorite tiny bathrobe if you ever decide to stay over?"

He is definitely enjoying this conversation a lot. Two adults admitting that they are going to sleep together and not being coy about it. “How does it look on your floor?” He asks seriously.

"I'd say 'like a work of art', but I'll have to have you evaluate that for me." The honesty between you is fucking freeing in a way that you hadn't at all expected, and you nudge the toe of his boot under the table with your own. "Since you're an expert."

That makes him laugh and sends you another wink. “I am.” He acknowledges. “Just let me know when you want me to come over and analyze it.”

Your usual sense of what you want is strong, and in this case it lives directly between your legs: humming and throbbing and telling you to hurry it the hell up. "As soon as you like," you offer with an honest shrug. "I'd say we should have a pretty good idea of how we feel about things by tonight."

Marcus is loving this sense of self that you possess, it’s refreshing and honestly, a big turn on for him. He nods and leans back in his seat so he can watch you munch happily on your salad. You were eager to eat and he is more than happy to watch, enjoying the way you do a slight wiggle in your seat when you take a bite you really like. “And if you decide that it’s going to be a no for you, you let me know and we’ll move on from there.” He’s honest enough with himself to know that not every woman would want to be with him. Realistic to and practical despite being a romantic with high hopes.

“Same goes for you.” You tell him, though you can’t imagine in what universe you would turn him down. Though it’s refreshing as hell to hear that he’s not going to act like an entitled brat if something happens that makes you hesitate. It would be a shame if he turned out to be a bad kisser - that truly being your biggest turn on. A good kiss can turn the world on its end.

He gives a slight scoff and shakes his head. “I’ll let you know if the second coming of Christ happens first.” He’s made up his mind and if he’s completely honest with himself, decided that you would be someone he was interested in fairly early on in today.

The full evidence that you like his sense of humor is on display when you barely manage to cover a snort with your hand. Not to muffle it - since you’ve learned he actually does think it’s cute - but just out of politeness to everyone else around the two of you. The giggles that come afterward are from the absolutely delighted look on his face.

The rest of lunch goes by with the two of you talking about anything and everything. Marcus doesn’t want to make sleeping with you the main focus of this time. No matter how direct you might be, he still wants to get to know you and in the very broad sense, woo you like he would any other woman he was seeing.

“I should be getting back.” There’s very clear reluctance in your voice, but you’ve got less than ten minutes left and then another four hours to your workday before you can go home and fuss over an outfit for tonight.

Marcus nods, taking your tray and transferring everything over to his so that he can dump all of it at once. “You’ve still got to work, and I’ve got to go set up a lot of things at my place.” He flashes you a grin. “Too bad someone can’t come help me unload it, but how about this? When you get off work, you take as long as you need to get ready, relax, and then you shoot me a text and I’ll walk next door and pretend I just drove across the city to pick you up?”

“Thirty seconds across our driveways is a much less nerve-wracking trip than thirty minutes across town.” Either way, you’re glad to not be wasting time. You really do like Marcus and don’t impose artificial barriers to getting to know him.

“Very true.” He guides you out of the restaurant and back over to his car, holding the door for you in both locations. He knows that eventually you might get tired of him opening a car door, Amanda did unless it was a special night out, but he enjoys the little things that add to the comfort of the person he is with. Things that make them feel special. “Hopefully the rest of the day isn’t too boring. Maybe another hopeless person will come in to establish their new place.”

“If they do, I’ll probably hand them over to the actual furniture specialist working today.” You flash him a conspiratorial grin. “Like I should have done with you.”

That makes his stomach flip like he’s about to ask Samantha Perez to the school dance again. Although he’s not fourteen anymore, the confirmation that you had found him appealing is a huge stroke to his ego. “I have to say that I’m grateful you didn’t.” He tells you once he’s walked around the car and slid behind the wheel again.

“Somehow I don’t think you would have been asking Norm to help you pick out throw blankets to cuddle in.” Although, you do have to admit that your elegantly gay male coworker would probably eat Marcus right up.

“Maybe not.” He throws you a teasing glance. “I never say never though.” He’s straight, but he’s never been one of those who has said that it couldn’t happen if the right person came along.

“Then I’m even happier that I didn’t introduce you.” The entire ride back will take all of a minute, but you settle back against the upholstered seats of his car and grin back. “Just in case.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I don’t think you have to worry. I’m open minded, but it hasn’t happened in thirty-four years, so I don’t think it’s necessarily in the cards for me.”

“Still,” you shrug. “It would have been one more way we swerved around each other, and the universe has been working hard to push us together.” It’s not that you necessarily put a lot of stock in fate. You’re a romantic, sure, but not one so obsessed with soulmates or destiny that you let it rule your senses. Still, it seems like an awful lot of coincidences for two people.

“Very true.” He gives a small chuckle and after debating it for a split second, reaches over and takes your hand to give it a soft squeeze. “You don’t ignore the signs you're given.”

The soft, deceptively small gesture makes your whole body tingle, and you squeeze his hand back to share the small intimacy of the moment. It’s making butterflies erupt in your stomach and a giddy sort of haze float through your mind. “Not anymore, anyway.”

He pulls into the parking lot and turns to give you a small, encouraging smile. “So, enjoy the rest of your day.” He uses a slightly chipper tone like he’s a mom telling their child to have a good day at school. “And don’t let the assholes get you down.”

“I have enough residual good mood for any Texas-sized asshole this job can throw at me.” Giving his hand another light squeeze, you don’t bother to hide the broad smile on your face. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

“I am too. Sunset Boulevard is another favorite of mine.” Marcus admits. He wants to lean in and give you a kiss, but instead of going for something that might be a little too soon and quite frankly embarrassing since you are sitting in front of your place of employment, he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. Besides, a car isn’t the most romantic place for a first kiss, and he wants that to be special. “Let me get the door for you.” He murmurs after he lowers your hand from his lips.

“Thanks.” You will absolutely, one hundred percent be thinking about how soft his lips are for the next several hours, and it will be a goddamn miracle if you don’t just haul him into your place the second he knocks on your door later.

Marcus reluctantly lets go of your hand and gets out to walk around the car to open the door for you. He shoves his hands in his pockets after he closes the door so he doesn't reach for you and gives you a soft smile. "Well, I don't want you to be late clocking back in, so I'm going to go and start several hours of work to unload and unpack everything to keep me from obsessing about tonight."

“Come over at six.” You smile softly and stuff your hands in your pockets the same way he has, keeping yourself from doing anything impulsive. “And…the gnome’s name is David.”

"David." He grins, loving the whimsical nature of you and your roommate for naming a garden gnome. "I'll make sure to remember that." He sends you a small wink and takes a step back, knowing that if he doesn't he will try to keep talking to you and make you late. "I will see you at six, beautiful."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives

SO: @spideysimpossiblegirl @inspiringmelodrama @pedrilf @thevoiceinyourheadx @badassbaker @rebel-fanfare @canadianmaebe @amneris21 @kulicny @nagassia @bruxasolta @elfwriter1088

My Masterlist!

[itjazzbicch]

Flaring Up

Pairing:  Malakai Black x Fem Reader

Summary: Based on: Princess of The House

Still adjusting to the changes around her, the reader continues to lose control in the ring, even considering not listening to Malakai, despite him being the leader of the House. Noticing this, Malakai decides to teach her something, but is also testing her to see how all of these new feelings within her flare up...

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Rough fight, slight swearing, Master kink, possessiveness, pet name, rough sex, choking, ceiling mirror, collar, chains, bondage, creampie)

Requested by: No One (But I hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: 2.2k

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @whenimakeitshine1234 @cuzimacomedian

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF: 

“Finish her.”

Malakai’s eye had this cold brutality, staring into it, I felt my entire mindset change, a quick quiver making my body go numb, regaining that invincible feeling again.

His command was to finisher her and that’s exactly what I did to my opponent. One round house kick was all it took, blood falling from her lip along with her limp body. So many thoughts were racing through my mind like the speed of light, growing violent and I remembered how Death Triangle mentioned my name earlier in the night.

So, I sent them a message of my own, picking her up and hitting Penta Oscuro’s piledriver, then set her up in Pac’s brutalizer, except mine was far more brutal.

Roars of anger flying while her faint wrists quickly tapped me, the searing pain waking her right back up and even after the bell rang, I kept holding on, tighter and wrenching her arm back, staring into the camera, laughing psychopathically, throwing my head back and laughing more as the referee tried to pull more off.

“Move,” I heard from above, looking to see Malakai shoving the referee away in order to squat next to me, saying softly, “She’s not relevant, therefore not worth your time. Come along, now.”

I gave her a few more wrenches, throwing her body off of me when I finally let go, standing up next to Malakai without taking my eyes off her, till he handed me my title, raising it up with a sinister smile on my face.

There was no exact answer as to why I would lose control like I did. It only happened twice now, but the feelings still lingered. Finally calming down, we returned to the house and I was going about my way, going to pass Brody and Buddy, but Malakai took my hand.

“Ah, ah, ah,” He pulled me back slowly, staring down into my eyes deeply, “You and I need to have a talk.”

Both Brody and Buddy stopped to watch, earning themselves a dark look from Malakai that instructed them to leave us alone.

Malakai wasn’t like the two of them. The darkness from him always struck some fear in me when he’s in that mindset of attack or the commanding attitude he could have.

I simply followed him, hands interlocked and he took his time, glancing over to me:

“Y/N, you realize that you’re not like the two of them, right?”

“Because of my eye,” I whispered, looking up for confirmation, “Right?”

“That’s exactly right,” He confirmed, “I know that you’re going through some changes, clearly hitting you all at once with a great force. It’s just so easy to let your mind, your being submerge in that certain place where you don’t care, you do what you want, you lose control.”

“It’s just like that,” I expressed, “My body goes numb and I just let myself go to that place, and it-“

I wanted to be more descriptive, but he knew me well already, the sigh of relief in his voice giving me chills:

“It feels sooo good.”

“So good,” I smiled softly at him being able to relate, squeezing his hand as we continued to walk softly, not sure where we were headed, but starting to recognize my surroundings when he made a slight turn into the hall that was lined with floor to ceiling windows.

“I know what you’re going through and I understand, it’s hard not to lose control. The feeling like a high that you can never get enough of,” His bright blue eye glistened in the moon light coming down through the windows, highlighting his face and showing the changed in his expression.

I followed the light into the black velvet room from before, knowing that it was going to be nothing like last time, my red eye connecting with his blue eye when he stepped in, letting the door slam and finishing:

“But when I give you a command like that, you listen.”

Not stopping immediately when he told me to clearly conflicted with his role in the House of Black, the leader, the one who gives the commands. Staring into his eye, I could still sense that soft spot he had for me. Right now, it was faint, but still there.

“Yes, Master,” I whispered, taking a deep breath to read his body language, and something told me that this was a bit of a test too.

His eyebrow cocked slightly, so I kindly reminded him:

“Last time we were here, you told me that in this room, to call you, Master.”

“So eager to be a good girl all of a sudden? If that’s the case,” His power was immense and radiating, stronger with his steps coming toward me, hand soft against my cheek, then tight around my throat, commanding, “Naked. Now.”

Going back toward the door, I listened and started stripping, thinking he was watching and so, swaying my hips back and forth slowly, fixing my hair, coming to a halt when I felt something cold around my neck.

I felt leather, looking up in the mirror above us to see a collar around my neck, chain attached and wrapped up tightly in his hand, a smile even more sinister than mine could be on his face while looking up along with me, revealing he was in the nude too, pulling back on the chain softly to make it tighter around my neck.

“That little smile you get,” He observed from me, smiling into my gaze through the mirror, whispering, “Thought you were going to be a good girl?”

“I can be,” I smiled back softly, “Be a good girl, whore, princess. Whatever you want, Master.”

“Whatever I want,” That made him evilly cheerful, able to feel his cock against my ass when he pulled me back harder, becoming a struggle to breath properly, but still smiling, “You really like the sound of that, huh?”

“Sure do,” I breathed hollow, able to get out, “And I like what I’m feeling. Nice to see you saved the best for last.”

“I didn’t mind giving you a little treat, but you should’ve known that I’d be inside of you when the time is right. That time is now,” His patience was wearing thin, pushing more forward and nodding while I climbed on all fours to the bed, head being yanked back by that chain once in the perfect position.

This was something new, beginning to feel those wild, fire feelings again. Malakai wanted me to learn something, but also watched me so carefully, wondering if I would be able to control those feelings.

I always failed at resisting, backing myself toward him once he was kneeled on the bed, brushing against his cock and already having his shaft slicked, looking back to smile, just to be thrown back onto all of his cock with one pull of the chain.

“Mal-“ I went to scream out his name, jaw dropped and breathless, no opportunity for that to be regained due to the collar being so tight.

That thrust alone about split me, our gazes meeting in the mirror again to find that smile of his, pulling his cock back then slamming back in, repeating and every time was faster and faster. Able to get some air with the chain loose, all I could do was scream out with moans, about tearing bed apart from the pillows to the blanket and sheets.

It wasn’t just how amazing his body could move or how impressive his cock was, there was this feeling like an aurora and it was consuming us both, seeing for myself that much like me, Malakai had his moments where he stepped into that one place.

“Ma-“ I gasped, having to correct myself, “Master, can I-; Can I-“

Having such girth stretching me so wide and still fit like a glove, tip of his cock pounding my insides and breaking down my walls, even with that power I had, there was no resisting his and how delicious it was, showing him I did have some control, just not able to get the words out because with spasming walls, such tight, amazing friction, it was hard to think for a moment.

“Aww, princess,” He pulled my head up with the chain, having me shaking from how worn my body was already, “You can get it out.”

Him calling me princess again showed progress, but none of that was in my mind at the moment, frantically whining out:

“Can I cum, Master? Please?”

Even before joining the house, I was not the type to beg. So, he knew I was serious, body reactions explaining it all too, the tone of his deepening voice nearly getting me off that edge:

“Cum for me, princess.”

Only a few more of those thrusts made my back arch with a sudden jerk, not caring about how tight that chain and collar were when my upper body collapsed onto the bed, mouth wide open from wicked moans and desperate gasps, screaming out softly while I gushed all over him, the high making my head spin even more because of him fucking me right through it all, panting but nowhere near the state I was in.

His thrusts did begin to slow, thinking he was going to stop and I loved the feeling, hips slowly back into him with a hum, whispering, “That was the best thing I’ve ever had, Malakai.”

I was so out of it, his name just slipped out and even then, my eyes still closed, I was only paying attention to the bliss, nerves so messed up that I didn’t even feel that chain around my wrists now, fixed so it at the top of my neck and now tied around my wrists, bones rubbing together and keeping me in that one place.

“I think you need to see something for yourself,” He pulled me up by the arm to my knees, laying back and fixing himself on the bed, then layed my back to his chest, one arm wrapped around my torso right under my breasts, free hand assisting in positioning my legs.

I watched his every move in the mirror, not only feeling my arms grow more sore, wrists rubbing against the chain, neck still being choked a little, but knowing that I was in store for another wicked ride.

“See that?” He whispered, picking his hips up to push his cock in slowly, showing his strength with his arm growing tighter around my torso, thrusting softly, “See how good you take it? How good that feels? Best you ever had, right?”

“Mhm,” I whined, watching for myself, seeing how much of a mess I was, having his lower half slicked with my wet heat, how all of his cock disappeared into me and very much feeling it as deep as possible, nudging every right spot.

 “You know how you get that?” He began to pant again, holding me by the chin and going even crazier than he did before, still able to keep me in one place; he wanted me to see how he could go, all of the facial expressions my face went through while being so drunk on all the pleasure, getting hit so quickly that I couldn’t comprehend it all at once, “You get all of this when you’re my good little princess and listen to your master.”

I was so focused on my second orgasm coming around that I couldn’t even nod, being so close and ready for it, my hips starting to move down and meet his on their own, two incredible forces colliding and even he felt it, feeling his cock beginning to throb and hard.

He wasn’t so easily gotten off, cooing into my ear, “Cum again so you can get another gift, hm?”

Fighting the tense collar, I nodded and suddenly my eyes shot open, watching in the mirror how I came so hard again, a bigger mess than before, gasping sharply and whining at his cock, thrusting up slow two times then staying pinned, throbbing even harder then his heat flooding my walls, feeling it shoot.

There was no round three for me after that, Malakai noticing and freeing my arms just for me to fall back on him, body heavy and shaking with every breath I took, but humming at the warm feeling inside, faint, tired eyes needing to see the sight when he pulled out of me slowly, his seed oozing.

“May I ask a question, if you don’t mind?” I panted, talking through the mirror, readying myself when he agreed:

“You may.”

“You can feel it, can’t you?” I glared as deeply as I could into his bright blue eye, despite having no words for me, I already knew the answer, “Also, just one more tiny thing.”

I could feel the seriousness in that glare, knowing that was a conversation for another day. Instead, I let that tiny flame in me toy with him, actually earning a small smile when I turned, staring into that eye then kissing:

“I know you like hearing, Master; But I know you love it when I say your name.”

[positivexcellence]

Walker 2x18 “Search and Rescue” description

AUSTIN NICHOLS DIRECTS – Cordell (Jared Padalecki) and James (Coby Bell) make a shocking discovery. Meanwhile, Stella (Violet Brinson) and August (Kale Culley) have a traumatic afternoon and Liam (Keegan Allan) takes a concern to the Davidson’s door. Austin Nichols directed the episode with story by Seamus Kevin Fahey and Bret VandenBos & Brandon Willer and Teleplay by Bret VandenBos & Brandon Willer (#218).  Original airdate 6/9/2022. (x)

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

Bestie!!! Can I get some Hangman where someone has trouble sleeping??

taking a ride on the cowboy train for a moment. not too familiar with hangman but for a bestie, i do my best. also yes, the title is a reference to an of mice & men song

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens| 

‘When You Can’t Sleep At Night’ Adam “Hangman” Page (Stephen) x fem!reader

^when stephen wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t find his girlfriend in bed with him, he quests for her^

- belle (noun) - a beautiful girl or woman, especially the most beautiful at a particular event or in a particular group - mention of adam cole (austin) - going to try a 3rd person pov for this one 

3rd Person POV:

After two months on the road away from home, Stephen finally felt the comfort and warmth of his own bed; but the presence of his partner in crime was the best part of it all. He reached over to her side of the bed to pull her closer but felt nothing there. He sat up a bit to search for the clock in the darkness: 2:45am it read. He got up fully and turned the bedside light on, the sudden brightness hurting his eyes, “Shit-” he cursed. The bathroom door was open so she wasn’t there. Starting to get a little worried, he stood up and went to look for her.

Spare room? No. Office? No. Laundry room? No. ‘Where the hell?’ he asked himself as he walked down the hall. When he saw the dim lighting from the kitchen, he finally got his answer. Leaning over the counter by the window she was, mug of tea in her hands and staring at the night sky. “Darlin’, what are you doing up?” he asked softly so he didn’t startle her. She turned around to look in his direction “Can’t sleep. I just kept tossing and turning, and I didn’t want to disturb you so I came out here.” She knows how tired he gets after long flights or drives from wherever his last adventure was. “You can go back to bed Stephen, don’t worry about me.” He arched his brow in confusion, “Y/N, it’s almost 3am and you’re still up. Why would I not worry?” He walked over to her and pulled her close to his chest; she finally found herself relaxing since coming to the kitchen. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked as he felt her forehead, gaining a smile and soft laugh as a reaction. “Honey, I’m not sick. I just couldn’t sleep. You know how I get sometimes.” It wasn’t a lie: she always had trouble sleeping. It was just how she was. When Stephen was away from home it was worse; but what he couldn’t wrap his brain around was why she couldn’t sleep now that he was with her? He knew something was on her mind and it was keeping her up. “You know you can talk to me if something is wrong, sugar.” She sighed and told him to sit at the table. Taking the seat diagonal from him, she messed with her hands; another sign for him to confirm that something was up. “Stephen, I-I’m nervous.” “About?” he questioned. “This whole Texas Death Match. I know how crazy they can get and I don’t want to see you hurt. I know your job entails pain but, this is a lot. I even talked to Renee about how she felt when Jon did it, she said she was nervous too.” He processed the words that left her lips and got on his knees in front of her, taking her hands while stroking her knuckles with his thumbs. “I know you get nervous about my matches but everything is being worked out. Everything will be okay. Nothing dire will happen to me. I can’t leave until I make you my missus.” His joke at the end put another smile on her slightly tear stained cheek, which he wiped the stray ones away. “I’ll hold you to that cowboy.” Stephen stood and picked his belle bridal style and pronounced his southern drawl more “Well then partner, I say we leave this saloon and and blow this ghost town.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled, “Or you could just take me back to bed?” Nodding, “That works too.” Y/N pulled his head down a bit to kiss his lips sweetly; then was whisked away to their shared bedroom. “If Austin steps out of line, he’s dead.” she said playfully. Stephen snorts. “This is why I love you, cowgirl.” 

~~~~~~~

lovely taglist babes (dm or comment to be added) @josiewrites @rubyred1980 @chrisdickinson @xkennyxomegax

[itsbuckytm]

Reunited souls / Harry Gardner x Reader

Summary : The reader and Harry knew each other back in uni before she met her success by also moving into Provincetown. Their reunion takes a little turn and maybe this town isn’t as populated as everyone thinks.

Warning : None

Enjoy 🤍

Harry knew something was wrong with him. Not to mention, ever since coming to Provincetown to escape his own reality in order to proceed his screen writer’s dream and yet there he was sitting right in front of his laptop. Troubled minded by the sound of violon coming from upstairs and he knew that the only way to end this madness was to call out his for daughter’s name.

With such aggression coming from his voice, his daughter became quite aware of her own father’s bothers. However, she knew a little too much how to put words together, thus resulting often for Doris to intervene and without any more fuss dragged her daughter for an afternoon walk.

You noticed the family’s arrival when the previous house owner called. “You’re gonna see they are a lovely family.” She said with much confidence you reassured her and also relieved to finally have another “normal” neighbor without having to stalk to their main’s window in order to keep your safety at peace.

Meeting The Gardner almost became one of the best things you could’ve wished for. The kid just as smart and artistic as her father’s, Doris who you learned coming back from Sommers’s house and both of you clicked.

On a faithful night they have invited you over dinner. Recently the poor innocent family were being stalked or should we put formally had intruders hungrily coming at their fresh flesh. Being a screen writer yourself, Harry’s name came fairly familiar in your head and within a few seconds from being at their house for dinner his eyes wide with excitement.

“You’re, Y/N! No reason your name and voice sounded so familiar. We worked in a few shows prior during our years in university, remember. Mentor Gardner by any chances?” And that is when it clicked, all of the memories from your past glueing itself bits by bits.

Flashing your signature smile at him remembering indeed, letting out a soft chuckle a confused Doris looked at the both of you. “Of course I do. My apologies, just ever since I decided to settled in here things just escalated so quick.”

Harry whom listened to your words in inspiration, as if the one who mastered you for years now was you when you you under his wings. “Mentor Gardner?” Doris interrupted and by the sound of her voice, laughed at the sudden name her husband had and never thought to hear in her life.

“Oh right,” Exchanging a look to Harry nodding comfortably for you to explain how this even came up to giving him the title. “Let’s just say when we were in the same program, he was well known for his screen play and writing. Most of the plays out of the classic known of course, was all from his own mind and words. Even the teachers offered him to be a Mentor for the first grade students and which I came in the picture.”

Now fully understanding it Doris feeling exhausted from her day, the stress from the baby she excused herself kissing her husband’s forehead and leaving you both alone in silence the house now corrupted beneath your feet.

Glancing at your friend’s laptop you noticed a blank page. Noticing where you were looking, Harry let out a sigh. “Having a creative block. And thought that this town was every writer’s place. Or as Sommers says it so well. It’s Muse.”

Wait… did he already… No it couldn’t. It was too early you thought to yourself. Austin would’ve mentioned him about now. Or was it a surprise both Belle and him wanted to keep before the right time?

Just as you were about to say anything let alone protest at the how in the world he knew her friends so soon, he let out of his pocket a pack of plastic with way too familiar pills. Pills you also used yourself.

Eyes widened, noticing your quick reaction he interrupted the now unnoticeable silence you both had completely forgotten. “You know these pills?”

And just with that you imagined yourself as if you were in the place of a victim being questioned for a moral you barely knew to be seen as bad or worse illegal. With a sigh enough to be a respond to Harry he himself let out a dry chuckle which confused you more. “What?”

“I’ve been using them these past weeks. Aren’t they amazing? Austin and Belle told me about you. An elegant lady so innocent on the outside yet a rebel on the inside.” This smirk, a smirk you never thought in your right mind Harry could’ve pull up quick.

The Harry you knew was a good man, not a monster nor a soon to be a vampire. Regret and remorse came rushing through you, if there was one person you didn’t want to fall into the whole of Belle’s was definitely him. But with such unfaithful events he did, Belle knew what she was doing and Austin being a little too protective of your own sake knew it was best to not say a word nor interfere her work.

“You know I already have two offers for a big Plot on Netflix and it’s so exciting. We should co-write something together and by dawn we could be the next thing the world needs.”

Looking at your friend in a completely new perspective nothing but excitement and a fake yet subtle smile came into view as the father now a hungry yet innocent monster that only wanted fame took you into a hug. A hug as he took into your arms and twirled you around and whiting a slip of a second, his lips his lips brushed yours with lust he never felt before.

You knowing it was just a clumsy act of his, let out a chuckle and with much happiness for him congratulated him. “I’m really happy I really, am. You know I still wonder how in the world you know-“

“For another time. For now we have another amazing story to invite and write about, how about I offer you a drink? It’s all on me.”

Cut by surprised all you could now was to nod and just as then he linked his arm with yours. Looking at the man as you both walked out of the house, with either confusion yet awe knowing that not only you and the two women he loved the most and within his new condition had to protect them from his doing.

“I’m sure Belle and Austin would be glad to see us tonight.”

“Oh I am sure they will.”

And until sunrise all four of you did you errands, a lost soul you each were craving for no matter it’s care and sorrow. Just two lost souls running until it’s exasperation.

[thatbritishactor]

Together we stand (part 20)

Together we stand (part 20)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Together We Stand explores the relationship between Billy Russo and Reader (You), over the course of twenty years. You meet as children, and you two are best friends until life tears you apart. You always find your way to each other over the years, although you witness him becoming someone you barely recognize. Billy is your weakness, the one person you cannot resist, and as he grows into a selfish, cold, manipulative man, you can’t let go of the Billy you once knew.

Warning: Mature (SMUT), 18+, language (cursing), abuse (psychological), toxic relationship dynamics.

Total words: 3,500

The * indicates steamy/ mature content

My Masterlist

Together we stand playlist

Part 1 Part 2*   Part 3   Part 4* Part 5 Part 6* Part 7*  Part 8  

Part 9*   Part 10   Part 11*   Part 12*   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

Part 16   Part 17*    Part 18  Part 19

ONE YEAR LATER

You’re staring at the road ahead, on your way to Napa’s Valley in California. Antoine’s driving, and he hums along a catchy song on the radio, looking content. He catches you staring at him and glances at you, seeming amused.

“What is it?” he asks in a playful voice, lowering the sound coming from the radio.

“Nothing” you reply, escaping his gaze, and looking out of the window.

“Still nervous about the wedding?” 

You stop breathing, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. You’ve been back in America for a month, and Antoine has taken the decision to follow you back to the US. He’s found a job as an editor in New York, and you’ve found a place in Brooklyn for the both of you. You were wary at first, not sure about his decision to move across countries for you, but he managed to convince you. Your relationship is stable, easy, and committed; everything that was missing from what you had with Billy.

You’re currently on the road to attend your cousin Austin’s wedding, who’s invited the whole family in Napa for the occasion. You don’t know if Billy will attend, and it’s what’s been torturing for the past two weeks.

You’ve kept in touch with him through the last year: he was stationed in South Carolina for a while, coming back in New York during his leaves. He didn’t go back to Iraq that year but went on missions he couldn’t tell you about. The correspondence grew friendly, and you still feel close to him, although you haven’t told him about Antoine, unable to face whatever reaction it might trigger in him.

You had asked him if he’d attend the wedding in a letter, and had replied that it would depend on if he could get a leave for that time period. The uncertainty is driving you wild, afraid that you won’t be able to handle being in the same room as Antoine and Billy. You’ve tried to reason with yourself countless times: you are allowed to move on. You haven’t seen in over three years; and Billy was unable to give you what Antoine did. It was legitimate for you to try and build a life with someone else; and Antoine makes you feel safe and loved.

And yet, you can’t help but feeling like you’ve been cheating on Billy for all of this time, knowing thinking that way is beyond fucked up.

You’ve grown and matured over the last three years, and you’ve had time to reflect on the nature of your relationship with Billy. Its unhealthy lengths appear clearly to you now: the lack of boundaries, the controlling nature of Billy, your tendency to lose all your self-control around him, and the way you dropped everything for him, for years, every time he came around.

You’ve created another life with Antoine: a relationship built around trust and respect, rather than passion, intensity, and fusion. You reflect on that time thinking that you were a teenager, driven by hormones and feeling lost, and that although your love for Billy still runs deep and your bond feels solid, you’re an adult now.

“Ma belle?” he asks in French, his term of endearment for you.

“Yes, sorry” you blink a few times; you hadn’t realized you were lost in your thoughts again. Antoine reaches for your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes still on the road.

You’ve told him that you were nervous about the wedding because you didn’t like big gatherings and crowds. And although some of it is true – you’re not a fan of big events- you’re mainly tense because you still don’t know if Billy will attend. You’ve never told Antoine about the true nature of your relationship with Billy, not wanting to repeat what had happened with Adam. Your ex-boyfriend had grown increasingly jealous and insecure about Billy, and you couldn’t blame him. You would have felt inadequate if Antoine had that kind of bond with another woman. No one could really compare to a twenty-year-old relationship. It was legitimately scary, and you didn’t want to put Antoine through that. Most importantly, you didn’t want the ghosts of your past to haunt your current relationship.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine” you tell Antoine, wanting to reassure him. He squeezes your hand once before he speaks again.

“I’m really excited to meet your family.” A smile graces his beautiful lips.

“I know” you sigh “Me too.” You’re not really lying. You are excited to introduce Antoine to your family. He is a wonderful person: funny, kind, and successful. You’re proud to be his girlfriend.

You arrive at the wedding venue, in the heart of the wine country. The venue is beautiful, surrounded by grapevines, creating a perfect mix between modern and rustic charm. Your parents greet you and take you to your private cottage, where you settle with Antoine, discarding your belongings and getting ready for the rehearsal dinner that’ll take place tonight. You’ve restrained yourself from asking if Billy was present, your stomach clenched and your breathing a bit short. Your parents have warmly welcomed Antoine in the family, your mother hugging him, your father gently patting his back. You haven’t seen your sister yet, but you’re eager to be reunited, for you’ve missed her dearly in the last three years.

You’re putting your dress on for the rehearsal dinner, still feeling nervous, while Antoine takes a shower. You jump when you hear a knock on your door, and go open it, your heart fluttering in your chest. You breathe again when you see that it’s your sister at the door,  and you squeal as you hug her.

“God, I’ve missed you, you dumb slut” she sighs, still holding you close.

“I know, bitch, me too” you reply laughing, and your breathing is ragged, your heart pounding in your chest.

She leans back and cups your face, staring into your eyes.

“How are you?” she looks concerned “For real?” 

You sigh, looking into her eyes. “I’m good, I’m nervous though.” 

She removes her hands from your face, sliding them on your shoulders. “About Billy?” she asks, glancing behind you to make sure that Antoine isn’t there.

You gesture towards the bathroom. “It’s fine, he’s in the shower” you mutter, and your sister nods.

“Have you talked recently?” 

“No, why?” The nervousness is almost choking you. “Is he here?” 

“He is” she purses her lips, seeming cautious.

You exhale deeply, coping with the fact that you’ll see him in a few moments. You’re torn between excitement, joy, and a deep feeling of dread pulsing through your veins. “How is he?” 

Your sister opens her mouth before closing it. “He’s fine. There’s something I need to tell you though.” 

You stop breathing again, feeling your heart pounding against your ribs. “What is it?”

Before she can answer, Antoine gets out of the bathroom, whistling, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh hi!” he smiles, and you glance at your sister. Her eyes move over Antoine and she stares at his toned chest and abs for a split second before letting go of you and smiling.

“Hi, I’m April” she says, and Antoine walks up to her to shake her hand.

“Antoine.” He slides an arm around your shoulder and places a kiss on the side of your head. “I’m gonna get dressed, shall we go after?”

You swallow thickly, still pondering on whatever April was going to announce to you. “Su… sure” you stammer.

Antoine grabs his clothes and heads towards the bathroom. You grab your sister’s wrist, whispering.

“What is it? Is he alright?” you ask urgently.

“He’s fine. Don’t freak out, okay? He came with someone too.”

Your heart drops in your chest, and your stomach falls into your feet. You can’t feel your fingers, nor your feet as you start feeling lightheaded.

Your sister says your name a few times but it seems like her voice is coming from very far away. You finally blink a few times.

“It’s fine, I’m fine” you say in a disembodied voice, “I came with someone, he’s with someone, it’s great” 

April scoffs. “Sure, you look peachy and thrilled” she mocks, raising her eyebrows.

You don’t reply anything, staring into the void. Antoine leaves the bathroom and 

April straightens her posture. “All right, I’ll see you at dinner” she looks worried, and you nod absentmindedly.

“See ya!” Antoine replies cheerfully, and April looks at you one more time before she leaves, closing the door behind her.

You stand there a bit when Antoine calls your name. “Are you ready?” he asks, and you blink again “I just need to put on some makeup” you glance at him and force a smile on your lips.

You thought that you were over it, that you had grown, that you weren’t the same person you were three years ago. And yet, hearing that Billy has brought a date to your cousin’s wedding seems to put you into deep emotional turmoil. You tell yourself to get a grip as you head to the bathroom to get ready, trying to tame the wild beating of your heart.

* * * * * * * * * *

Billy’s finishing getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, putting on his suit jacket, and eying himself in the mirror, satisfied with the way he looks. He wants to exude confidence and the suit does the trick, enhancing his lean muscular silhouette and height. He likes the way he looks in suits, and he’s promised himself that once he’ll be rich and successful, he’ll dress exclusively in expensive three-piece suits.

He sits at the edge of the bed to put his shoes on and checks to see if they need to be polished again. He’s spent way too much money for this event, but he knew you’d attend, and he’s been waiting for this moment for two long years.

After his injury, he had taken some time to recover both physically and emotionally, and the letters you sent him helped greatly. He still nourished the hope that once you’d get back to the US, you’d resume on your relationship and be reunited for good. His military contract had come to an end, and he didn’t know if he should enroll for another four years.

Although a year ago, one summer evening, the world shattered around him. He was having dinner with your parents, being on leave for a few days, when he found a picture in your parent’s home that changed everything. You were standing in front of a beautiful house, probably in the south of France if he judged by the scenery, and you were snuggled in a man’s arms. His arms around your shoulders, you were gazing lovingly at him, and he was smiling at you.

Billy’s heart started pounding in his chest, and his hands started shaking. He saw red, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. You seemed happy and in love, and Billy didn’t understand how it was possible for you to have moved on. During your correspondence, you never mentioned anyone else. You never told him you were dating. He shook his head, blinking a few times, and he took the picture to your parents to demand an explanation.

Sure, he slept around during his leaves, but it was never serious. He picked up women from bars; he wasn’t called Billy the Beaut for nothing. It was still effortless for him to seduce women, but it was always just about sex, he never got emotionally involved. And he was hoping that you’d do the same in Paris.

Discovering he was wrong, and that you were as dishonest, secretive, and disloyal as everyone else was turning his world upside down.

Your parents glanced at the picture before exchanging a look, seeming embarrassed.

“Who is this?” Billy demanded, holding the picture.

“This is Antoine” your mother replied softly, meeting Billy’s gaze.

“Who the fuck is Antoine?” Billy asked, “How long has this been going on?”

“Perhaps this is a conversation you should have with her, son” your father intervened, but Billy barely heard him, smashing the picture against the table before leaving the house, slamming the door behind him. He rushed to Frank’s place, ignoring him and Maria who asked what was wrong. He was staying in their guest’s bedroom during his leaves, and he angrily looked through his things, searching for your letters, his hands trembling. He searched for an answer in them, even a light mention of someone named Antoine, but he found nothing.

It took him a few weeks to recover from this, and he considered never talking to you again. How could he trust you after that? How could he ever love you after such a betrayal? He confided in Frank and Maria of course, who tried to reason him for months before he could hear them. He started sleeping even more around, taking revenge by mistreating the women he slept with. He thought that somehow, abusing them emotionally was a way to get back at you. He still received your letters, but he kept silent for a few months, resisting the urge to rip them to shreds.

And then, he formed a plan. He decided to enroll for another four years, and this time, he would do things right. He’d find a way to be promoted, to gain more money and success, so that the next time you’d see each other, he’d be rich and powerful. He intended hurting you as much as you had hurt him, and he waited for the perfect opportunity. He replied to your letters, pretending everything was fine, when deep down, he couldn’t wait to get back at you.

* * * * * * * * * *

You make your way through the venue towards the room where the rehearsal dinner will take place, distracted like hell. You can’t focus on what anyone is saying to you, looking for Billy through the crowd. Your heartbeat hasn’t slowed down since your sister has come to visit you, and you have to hold your purse tightly to keep your hands from shaking. You feel sick to your stomach, struggling with the strong emotions that wash over you. You can sense Antoine is concerned in the way he looks at you, but you’re incapable of reassuring him. You’re letting him talk to your father, unable to have a conversation with anyone, when your eyes find your sister in the crowd, standing next to the table you’ll be sitting at. She glances at you, and you can see from her look that something is wrong. Your stomach clenches even more -you had no idea that it was possible – when you finally spot him.

He confidently stands next to the table, conversing with April’s girlfriend, Leslie, and he’s holding another woman’s hand. He’s wearing a gorgeous three-piece suit that seems to have been made for him, and he looks absolutely breathtaking. His hair is still short, although it’s grown a bit, and his beard is impeccably cut, enhancing his sharp jaw. The woman standing next to him looks like a model, with long, silky, blond hair, a small waist and generous breasts, dressed in a sinful emerald dress. She looks like she just stepped out of the Oscar’s red carpet, and your heart clenches with jealousy. She has beautiful blue almond eyes, a small nose and beautiful thick lips painted with a deep red lipstick. She’s easily the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen, and they look like gods together, straight from Mount Olympus.

You feel a warm hand settling at the small of your back and turn to meet Antoine’s brown eyes.

“You okay my love?” he asks, looking worried.

No, you’re not. You feel like you’re going to faint. You must look pale as fuck, and sick,  cold sweat forming on your skin.

“I’m just nervous about the crowd” you reply, out of breath.

He steps closer to you and places a comforting kiss on your forehead.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he whispers, looking into your eyes, and you slightly smile to him, putting your hands against his chest, clinging to him like he’s a raft and you’re lost at sea.

“Thank you.” 

He kisses your forehead again before he grabs your hand to lead you towards your table. You make your way towards your sister and Billy, your eyes glued to the floor, trying to tame your feelings and your fast beating heart.

“Hey everyone” Antoine says, and you brace yourself to meet Billy’s eyes.

He’s already staring at you, his black eyes cold, his jaw clenched. He looks impossibly beautiful, and you hold his gaze, an intensity building between the two of you.

“Billy, Amanda, this is Antoine, Y/N’s boyfriend” your sister introduces everyone. The beautiful woman reaches to hold your hand, and you shake it lightly, your eyes still trained on Billy’s.

“Nice to meet you” she says, before she shakes Antoine’s hand.

“Likewise,” your boyfriend replies, but you don’t say anything, still captured by Billy’s intense gaze.

“Billy, nice to meet you” Antoine presents his hand to Billy. His eyes move from your face to meet Antoine’s gaze, and his jaw is still clenched when he stiffly shakes his hand.

“Nice to meet you too” he says in a smooth, even voice, a tone you’ve heard many times when he was trying to control himself. 

You know that he’s internally boiling, and your knees wobble. “I’ve heard a lot about you” Billy adds, and this time he looks back at you. You blink, unable to hold his gaze and look away, biting your lower lip. This is so much worse than anything you’ve ever imagined, and you wish for the earth to open beneath your feet to swallow you whole. You parents join you and they start conversing with Amanda, your sister and Antoine, while you and Billy stay silent. Everyone takes their seat as dinner is announced, and you glance at the other people sitting at your table. There are your uncle and his wife, and their two sons, your cousins. Your family converse but you’re incapable of joining in, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Billy doesn’t pay attention to you during the dinner, he’s put his arm on his date’s chair, his hand caressing her bare shoulder, and the sight of him touching another woman makes you physically ill.

You close your eyes and take a big breath, trying to get a grip. You’re a grown woman now, an adult. How come you feel this way? It’s like all the progress you’ve made this far has been for nothing. You’re angry and disappointed with yourself.

Billy has moved on, so what? So have you! You try and repeat yourself, glancing at Antoine who makes everyone laugh around the table. His charm and his French accent seem to make everyone be drawn to him, and you try to find comfort in his presence and forget about Billy’s withdrawn behavior.

Dinner goes rather quickly, between the toasts and the conversations. You’re too nervous to eat, but you’re finally able to listen to the conversations. You find out that Billy and Amanda have only known each other for a few weeks, weirdly comforted by the idea that it doesn’t seem serious. You try and not pay attention to the way that Billy looks at her, absentmindedly caresses her arm or kisses her, taming your jealousy and envy. Dinner comes to an end, and everyone gets up, and you exhale in relief, glad to escape the most awkward situation you’ve ever been in.

You and Billy haven’t exchanged a single word, and while you make your way to your guest house, you find yourself repressing tears. Antoine undresses and slips into bed, patting the mattress next to him.

“Coming ma belle?” he asks, still looking a bit worried.

“Actually” your voice is shaking a bit, “I think I’m gonna take a walk.” You remove your heels and your dress to slip into jeans, a sweater and putting your sneakers on. “I need to walk the nervousness off.”

“Want me to come with you?” he represses a yawn.

“We’ve had a long flight and a long drive. It’s fine, I won’t be long”. You lean to kiss him, and he sighs into the kiss.

“Alright, see you in a few” You force yourself to smile at him, before heading for the door.

The feeling of the fresh night greets you, and you head towards the grapevines, looking for a private spot to break down. You’ve taken your cellphone, wondering if you should call a friend to vent, and for some advice. You walk into the night, finding relief in the cold air, and finally let the tears stream down your face.

Part 21

* * * * * * 

What is that??? Oh it’s the comeback of the ANGST!!! But was the angst ever really gone? NOPE HAHAHAHA,SORRYYYY

I hope you like this part. I wrote it half traumatized but i’m happy with the way it came out. I love me some wedding angst for real.

Tell me your thoughts about it? Give me reblogs ?

Thank youuuuuuuuuuu

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[theresidentincorrectquotes]

Dr Bell ( To Dr Voss ) : Every talk I have with you people gets more absurd.

Conrad (Walking by) : You say "you people" like you're not part of the family. Well I've got news for you : You're already on the Christmas card.

[theresidentnews]

Season 3 Promo

[plentyoffandoms]

Okay, could you do an imagine (with either Dax or Cash) where the reader is said partners girlfriend and also a member of FTR & The Pinnacle and she keeps teasing him through out their promos and match that night. Said partner makes a comment about if they don’t stop they’re gonna fuck a baby into the reader, thus causing some baby making sex that night?

Baby Makin' (18+)

Cash Wheeler x f/Reader

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Minors do not read.

This has not been proofread.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

I hope you like it.

I am so sorry. I thought I posted this & it has been sitting in my drafts. 😩

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Cash Wheeler Masterlist

Summary: f/Reader is a member of FTR & The Pinnacle. During a match, she teases her boyfriend & it becomes too much for him.

Daniel - Cash Wheeler ☆ David - Dax Harwood ☆

YN'S POV:

Being the only member of FTR and the Pinnacle is truly fun and amazing. It is fun always playing the bad girl.

It is always exciting to be considered the bitch of AEW by fans but it is also fun and amazing that said fans wants me to scream and yell at them.

But what they don't know is that I found love within my small group of guys.

Daniel Wheeler

The man who owns my heart completely and has calmed me down. I used to go out and party almost every night. I used to drink like crazy and didn't care how it affected other people as long as I got my fix.

But then he came a long and showed me that I can still be me and enjoy life. That you can settle down and enjoy being with one person and one person only.

But the thing is we are completely opposite.

Daniel is quiet and is usually composed. He knows how to work the camera and likes to keep his private life private.

When asked about us he let's the audience know that we are happy and are doing well and that is it.

He also doesn't like to be embarrassed. Like I said, he likes to keep his composer and doesn't show too much emotion. He doesn't want to show anyone that he has a weakness.

But the thing is, I am his weakness. I can turn my tough man into a blubbering mess in a matter of seconds.

The moment I drop to my knees infront of him and take him deep in my throat, he can hardly form a proper sentence.

And I love it when he gets like that. But I love it even more when I rile him up when I shouldn't be.

Like now for example.

Him, David and I were filming a promo for their upcoming match against Austin and Colten and the ever perfect FTR needed to film it a few times until the two men were satisfied with it.

I was standing next to Daniel, not saying a word but letting him know I am there. My body was flushed against his side and my hand was rubbing his back.

But it went lower and lower, and at one point my hand was cupping his butt cheek. I could see the tip of ear getting red as he was trying to stay in character.

But as this take was done, David went to get a drink and Daniel looked at me.

"Stop that." He whispered to me.

"I'm not doing anything." I said innocently to him.

"You know what you are doing." He said before we went back to filming, hopefully for the last time.

I kept my hands above his ass, much to his joy. But he should know me well enough that this is just the beginning.

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

Now it is time for us to walk down to the ring. The Gunn Club was already there and I walked down the ramp with my two men.

We got the ring and they handed me their jackets but I put Daniel's coat on. He did a double take as I have never done that before.

The thing is, he loves seeing me in his clothes. He loves coming home and I am wearing just his shirts with nothing on underneath.

So as he was standing on the ropes and I was just about to get off the side, he looked at me with one eyebrow raised and I just shrugged my shoulders at him.

Then the bell rang and the match started. I of course did my job and cheered for them and tried to distract Austin and Colten.

It wasn't hard to distract Austin. The poor guy has a massive crush on me. He became easily distracted when I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him.

Daniel quickly came over the rope as I pushed Austin away from me and Daniel landed on him perfectly.

Daniel looked at me and pulled me to him and smashed his lips against mine. Showing not only Austin but everyone else that I am his.

"Don't you fuckin' do that again." He growled at me. Good thing he wasn't the main guy or they would lost this match.

I looked up at him, trying to act all innocent but just as he was about to walk away, I pulled him back and placed something in his hand.

Daniel looked at my panties that I placed in his hand and shoved them back into the pocket of his jacket that I am still wearing.

"Fucking stop this YN." He once again growled at me.

"Or what?"

"I'll fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you will stop acting like a brat." He left me standing there, replaying the words over and over again in my head.

My pussy getting wet at the thought of him fucking me but also at the fact that he wanted to fuck me and put a baby in me.

Daniel knew I was in between birth control so I am very fertile right now.

I always knew he had a breeding kink. He never mentioned it but I knew and now it is time for it to happen.

~

FTR won of course but I knew Daniel wasn't in the mood to celebrate the win. I know he is upset with me for pulling that little stunt.

Most women would of let their man calm down but not me. Oh no, I followed him straight to the locker room and I even locked the door behind me. I needed to push his buttons once last time before he fucked me like I knew he needed too.

And that is how I found myself in his lap, my pussy stuffed with his cock. My mouth hanging open, trying to catch my breath as he was gripping my waist tightly as he thrust up into me with all his strength.

"Try and embarrass me huh? Want me to look stupid infront of everyone?" Daniel stopped moving and just had me sit there on him, with his cock in my pussy.

I cried out at the loss of movement but Daniel slapped my ass, hard. I gasped and I clenched my pussy around him.

"Fuck, don't do that. You want this to be over before it even starts?" He asked as he gripped my face in his hand.

I answered was jumbled as he was gripping my face. He loosed his grip and he demanded I repeat myself.

"Need to cum. Need you to cum. Want your baby." My mind.

His gaze softened as it dawned on him what I said. "You want my baby?"

"I do." I was almost in tears as I needed to cum.

"I'll fuck you every day until you're pregnant baby." Daniel said as he changed our positions. My back is on the couch and he is now pounding into me a intense speed.

He was pounding me so hard I was scared that the cheap couch was going to break.

"Just like that." I groaned as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.

He kept his pace and I came with a shout of his name. My legs wrapping tight around his thrusting hips as my pussy spasmed around his cock.

A few more thrusts and he stilled as he came in me. His body shuddering here and there as he gasped my name. His head flung back and his eyes were closed as the pleasure washed over him.

He leaned down and kissed me gently. I wrapped my arms around his neck as the two of us kissed.

But he slowly pulled out of me and I moaned at the feeling of being empty but also our combined juices leaking out of me.

I was not expecting for Daniel to swipe the liquid that is slowly coming out and bring it up to my mouth.

I opened my mouth and I wrapped my mouth around his fingers, moaning at the taste of us.

~

Daniel and I fucked every single day it felt like. A few months later, it was no shocker that I had not 1 but 4 positive pregnancy tests.

Now I just have to find a way to tell Daniel the good news.

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