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hiraeth-ink · 1 year

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Could I Be Yours (a Joel Miller fic) Part 3

Pairing - Joel x Married Female Reader

Series Summary - You’ve been married for two years now to your long term man Marcus, but with your dwindling sex life and your marriage on the rocks, you came to an agreement. You're allowed to sleep with other men. The only rules? 1- You have to tell your husband about it. 2- No staying the night, you always leave after sex. And lastly, rule number 3, you can’t sleep with the same man more than once. These rules are in place to avoid feelings blooming, but what happens when you meet Joel, and end up breaking all of the rules? Will it break your marriage too? If faced with a choice between Joel Miller and your husband, who would you choose?

Read part 1 and part 2

Chapter summary - With your feelings for Joel making themselves known you try and make a decision regarding your marriage.

Warnings - infidelity, smut, protected + unprotected piv, oral sex (fem receiving), tiny bit of angst, Joel being a menace, Joel being vulnerable, angry Marcus.

Word Count - 7k+

a/n - Tysm for the continued love and support for this series! So so grateful

Your phone pings with a text notification exactly twenty four hours after you left Joel’s house, exactly twenty four hours after you ran away. You didn’t read it straight away, you couldn’t face what you imagined to be a rejection. So, you turned your phone over so the screen was out of view and busied yourself with a deep clean of the house, you changed bed sheets, cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen, hoovered and mopped the floors but you still saw his face when you blinked, his dark eyes engraved into your eyelids. You showered, washed your hair and aggressively cleaned your body, but you still felt Joel’s trail of lingering kisses burning your skin. Unable to uselessly distract yourself any longer, you picked up your phone and opened the text message from Joel.

Everything ok, sweetheart? You kinda rushed off on me. Call me :)

Reading the text, you struggled to gather your thoughts and make sense of your feelings. It wasn’t a rejection, a hey i don't think we should see eachother anymore text, but it didn’t give you any answers either. He seemed so nonchalant, so blase, as if you hadn’t opened up to him about your feelings at all, as if he hadn't completely and utterly confused you.

Unsure of what to respond, you decide against responding all together, for now, at least. You didn’t feel as though you could call him, you couldn’t even decide on words to send him in a text, there was no way your brain would be able to conjure up a response in real time over the phone. So, you put your phone down again and got through the rest of your weekend, trying not to think about him.

Nothing had changed between you and Marcus, not that you expected it to, you lived like roommates, as if you shared this house and nothing more. He came home late on Saturday night and was out of the house before you woke up on Sunday morning, not even giving you a chance to ask where he was going, although you weren’t sure you would, given the chance.

Monday came and went, with little to no interaction with Marcus, piles of work that you had to get done and a missed call from Joel. You didn’t see the call until an hour later and were too swamped to call back, so you left it. That night after work, you contemplated calling him back, Marcus wasn’t home so you didn't have to worry about him hearing, but you were at a loss for words. You had no idea what to say to Joel, but worse than your lack of words were your nerves. You were nervous as to what his words would be, so you didn’t call.

The next day at work was quieter, you didn’t have to eat your lunch at your desk while you worked so you went for a walk on your lunch break, sitting in the park not far from the office with your lunch. As you sat down, you felt your phone vibrating and, fishing it out of your back pocket, read Joel’s name in bold font across your phone screen. Staring at the writing for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you answered the phone, unable to avoid him any longer. You held the phone up to your ear and watched a bird fly out of a hole in a tree, internally wondering if it was fleeing the nest, like you wanted to and spoke a quiet, “Hi.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your back, “what's goin’ on, are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” you sigh, mentally kicking yourself for your inability to just let it out, and pause before continuing, “are you?”

“Yeah, I’m just at work,” there was a brief pause, a beat of silence where you both held your phones to your ears, thinking of the right words to say. “Listen, when we were talking that night, I panicked… I kinda froze, I guess.” His voice was apologetic, his normally confident speech was broken into parts by breaks and pauses, stutters and stammers, as if he had thought of what to say beforehand but had more words on his mind. “I shoulda’ said more, I just got nervous,” you heard him take a sip of a drink before continuing, “it’s been years since I’ve felt anything for anyone and…. It's a little weird feelin’ this way for a married woman,” he released a small chuckle at his words, “but I’d be an idiot not to see what happens.”

“I…. Joel I don’t really know what to say,” you answered truthfully, you wished that words would come to your mind, any words other than the ones you spoke, but none did. You were so taken aback by his speech that nothing was coming out of your mouth. Luckily, Joel filled the silence.

“Sarah’s stayin’ at a friends again on Friday. Do ya’ wanna come over?” He asked before quickly adding, “I’ll cook.” As if you needed any more convincing.

“I’d love to,” you said, your smile steadily widening as you spoke.

“And bring some clothes to sleep in this time,” he added, and although his voice was as deep and gruff as ever, you swore you could hear his smile.

“I’d rather wear your clothes to sleep, honestly,” you retorted before saying your goodbyes, with Joel promising to check in with you in a couple days.

After the conversation, Joel was feeling better. His thoughts were still clouded by you, but they were no longer negative. He no longer worried he’d ruined everything by shutting down that night, but his worries were persistent when it came to his feelings. It had been so long since he had felt anything other than lust for a woman, so long since he had wanted to cater to a woman, so long since the word relationship had crossed his mind. This was terrifying for Joel already, but factoring in the fact that you were married to another man made it so much worse. He knew you were unhappy with your husband but he didn't know your plans, he didn't know what you saw for yourself in the future. He didn’t know if you would leave your husband or stay married to him. Worst of all, he didn’t know if you thought about him, the way he thought about you. Joel could no longer ignore the rush he experienced when you were around. The dam inside him had broken and although vulnerability did not come easily to him, he was willing to be vulnerable for you, willing to be open for you. He was ready to expose his heart to you, rip it out of his chest and hold it up to you to show the speed at which it beat when you were around him. He needed to know that you felt the same. That you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw him, just like he had to do when you looked his way. He needed to know if your heartbeat quickened when you saw him, if it synced with his when you caught eyes.

Joel had never known a woman like you, a woman so strong, intelligent, funny and witty. Joel had never had sex as good as he did with you and Joel had never felt such a wordless connection. He felt the connection immediately, when he looked around the bar that night and found you already looking at him, he felt compelled to approach you. He felt confident under your gaze, just like he felt dizzy underneath your touch, enchanted beneath your spell.

Joel cringed when his mind circled back to the conversation that was had in his bed, his nervous, thoughtless reaction that caused you to leave so quickly the next morning. Watching you leave like that, almost sprinting out of the house, had him reeling, searching his memories for something that would have caused it. He didn't have to backtrack for long, his short answer and haste kiss on the cheek was now engraved into his brain, his own voice taunting him whenever his mind was quiet. It had been so long since he felt this way that his first reaction was to sabotage himself, but he didn't want to do that anymore, he didn’t want to stand in his own way when he could have you.

After a good day at work on Thursday, you ran into a slight problem after arriving home. You had been relying on Marcus going to his weekly guys night on Friday, so you wouldn’t have to lie about your whereabouts. So, your surprise was evident when he’d asked, almost immediately after you’d walked through the door, “How about we have a night in tomorrow? Just the two of us.”

“I thought you were going to your guys night again?” The first half of your answer was genuine, at least, “I made plans with Carrie for tomorrow,” you lied through your teeth, “think we’re gonna’ have a pamper, self care sort of night. I’m sorry.” Although you really didn’t feel sorry at all. Was he really trying now? Trying to spend more time with you, trying to pay more attention to you again? As soon as you stopped showing signs of sadness at his lack of attention, love and time spent on you, he tried to suck you back in, but when you were upset and trying your hardest to make the marriage work, he was nowhere to be found.

“Guess I’ll go see the guys, then,” he huffed loudly, like a child unable to get their own way, and headed for the stairs. Halfway through the living room, he turned around, pointed towards the bouquet that Joel bought for you, and asked, “By the way, who got you those flowers?”. And fuck, you had completely forgotton that you decided to deal with the flowers later, not realising then that later would be almost a week later, with Marcus shooting daggers at you from across the room.

“Oh… I got them,” you began your lie, “for myself. Saw the florist after work on Friday and, I haven’t had flowers in the house in a while so,” you felt yourself starting to ramble so you cut yourself off with a shrug, your heart beating in your ears as you watched him walk away once again.

That night, when you went to bed, the door to the guest bedroom was closed, and you could see a sliver of light underneath the door. Walking into your bedroom, the bed was empty and completely untouched, confirming your suspicions that Marcus had decided to sleep in the spare bedroom. Months ago, this distance would have clutched tightly at your heart like a fist, your eyes would have welled with tears and you would feel only despair for the end of your marriage. But looking at the empty bed, there were no tears, only a dull ache at the thought of the last 12 years spent with Marcus. A dull ache that solidified that you no longer loved him, a dull ache that announced to you that maybe you were ready to leave him. A dull ache that symbolised your decision finally being made.

Going to sleep that night, you decided that you would talk to Marcus about a divorce as soon as you could, that you would look for your own home to move into, one that wasn’t already filled with your own memories, one that hadn't housed you in your unhappiness for so long. For the first time, you slept soundly that night, and awoke excited at the prospect of being alone, of building and focusing on your own life, rather than building your life around someone else’s.

In a shockingly good mood all throughout Friday, you weren’t surprised that you hadn’t seen Marcus all day, but you figured you would be able to talk to him about going your separate ways later on in the weekend, and instead, focused your efforts and excitement on getting ready to go to Joel’s. Opting for a comfortable outfit of denim shorts and a strappy tank top, you headed to Joel’s, nervous excitement brimming inside you. Parking in his driveway and knocking on his door had your heart almost slamming out of your chest, you thought of the last time you had been here, the way you had wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Faced with the prospect of seeing him again, being in his space, you couldn’t wait to walk through the door.

“Well don’t you look cute,” he smiled as he opened the door, moving to the side, gesturing for you to walk past him and inside the house. Taking a second to take him in, you noticed that his hair was wet, slicked back tidily at the front, but his curls were slowly forming at the back of his head, where his hair was drying quicker. He looked so handsome like this, you loved his hair when it was curly and unruly, but like this, you could see his whole face, completely unobstructed and fuck, he was beautiful.

“You look so handsome,” you said, still taking in his appearance, “did you just get out of the shower?” He wore grey sweatpants and a black, short sleeved t-shirt that was once again, impossibly tight around his shoulders and biceps. His big, broad frame would make any shirt look tight on him, as if it were fighting not to break, not to unravel under the pressure.

“Yeah, I did,” he answered while leading you into the living room, where the tv was playing something you couldn’t quite make out, “shame you missed it.” You were worried that you wouldn’t be able to escape the air of awkwardness, worried that the ending of your last meeting would dull the start of this one, but hearing his words and seeing his smirk reassured you that there would be no such thing.

“There’s always time for that,” you laughed as you sat on the sofa beside him and he quickly placed his arm on the back of the couch, allowing you to sink into him. “I was promised food,” you gave him a pointed look as you spoke, “what are you cooking?”

“About that,” he looked at you sheepishly and paused, a small smile on his face, “the more I thought about what to cook, the more nervous I got so I thought we could just order somethin’.” Your grin widened at his abashed expression, finding his words absolutely adorable, and leaned into kiss him, mumbling against his mouth that you had been craving pizza anyway. Joel hummed in approval against your mouth, leaned into the kiss before pulling away to get up and ordering the pizza. He rolled his eyes when you asked for a hawaiian, but relayed the order over the phone with no complaints.

“Said it’d be around 45 minutes, s’ a busy night,” he held your chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, turned your head to face him and softly slotted his lips with yours. His plump lips moved with yours in an easy, almost lazy rhythm as he opened your legs and moved to settle between them, allowing you to feel his already hard length. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into your embrace as he licked deeper into your mouth, you were so close, but you wanted more, you wanted him as close as possible.

“Joel,” you gasped as he started grinding his length into you, the denim of your shorts adding to the friction. His lips moved down to your neck, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest, pulling you top down to expose your breasts before landing his lips on your nipple, lapping his tongue around it and sucking it into his mouth as your breathing picked up, small gasps and whimpers being released from your mouth. “Joel please,” you looked down at him as he moved on to your other breast and repeated the actions, “touch me,” you begged.

“I am touching you, sweetheart,” you whined at his cocky response and moved your hips, grinding upwards to add friction where you needed it most. Joel looked at where you were desperately moving your hips and let out a chuckle, a chuckle that made you feel small and almost pathetic, but also made you all the more wet and needy for him. His hand trailed down your body, from your breast to the top of your denim shorts, dipping beneath the hem and circling your skin with a featherlight touch. “You want me down here, baby?” He asked as he undid the button of your shorts and started pushing them down, you instinctively lifted your hips so he could pull your shorts down completely, leaving you in your underwear, with your hard nipples exposed to Joel’s hungry gaze. Lifting your legs so that your thighs rested against your front, Joel directed your hands to the backs of your thighs and instructed, “Hold em’ right here f’me, baby,” before kneeling on the floor, positioning himself so that his face was level with your clothed pussy. Joel growled as he looked at the wet spot rapidly growing on your underwear, and you watched him with wide eyes as he ran his nose down your seam, from your clit to your hole and back up again and, to your complete surprise, unabashedly inhaling your scent. Your hands moved from holding your legs to holding your face, covering it in embarrassment, but Joel would let you do no such thing. He grabbed your elbows from his position below you and pulled them down. He moved your underwear to the side, licked a stripe up your pussy.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said before harshly sucking your clit into his mouth and stopping to speak again, “I love everything about this pussy, baby. The taste, the smell,” he said in a low growl, before beginning his attack on your centre. He alternated between licking and slurping passionately at your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth, and pushing his tongue inside you. You couldn’t keep your moans to yourself, your body was reacting to his touches loudly and openly, your moans loud and high pitched, while your legs shook every time Joel’s mouth wrapped around your clit.

“Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep them open as Joel continued his merciless attack. Your breath hitched and your eyes shot open when you felt a finger prodding at your entrance, before thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. “Joel, please,” you said, louder this time, “I wanna come, Joel, please,” you continued in an unstable voice as you looked down at him. Joel didn’t answer with words, but with growls and groans of his own as he tasted you. His fingers curled at that spot guaranteed to make you scream, and his hand moved to your lower stomach, sprawled out adding pressure. You were hurtling towards your release, and recognised a feeling only Joel had pulled out of you before. “Joel stop I’m gonna make a mess,” you spoke quickly, the words coming out jumbled together as your breath quickened drastically.

“I want you to make a mess of my face, baby,” Joel said quickly before reattaching his mouth to you, pushing you further towards release, before speaking again, “give me what I want.”

His words made you give in immediately, no longer caring about making a mess, you gave in to Joel’s movements, your whines becoming more and more high pitched as he continued his movements. You couldn’t speak, only let out incoherent whines and pleas, before your mouth opened in a silent scream, the only sound leaving you was that of your breath hitching and the squelch of the wetness between your legs as it gushed out of you. Joel muttered, “good girl,” as you came down, your breath violently being pushed out of you as you watched him rise from his knees, the bottom half of his face soaked with your juices, as was his forearm. You bit your lip at the evidence of your orgasm that covered him, leaving a shine on his skin.

“I need you inside,” you whispered as he hovered above you, overcome with desire to be full of him. He quickly put on a condom and returned to his position.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered as he kissed your temple and leaned back to line himself up with your entrance. “Love watching you come for me,” he said as he pushed the tip inside, the last word of the sentence trailing off into a low groan as he felt your warmth enveloping him.

He pushed inside slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size, before wrapping his arms around your thighs and lifting them up, your feet in the air next to his head, leaving only your shoulders and upper back on the sofa. When he was happy with the position, he started thrusting all the way in and out of you quickly as he held you still by your legs, until the sound of your skin slapping could be heard throughout the room. A moan was forced out of your mouth with each thrust, your throat opening up to release a breath each time Joel filled you to the brim, he fucked you hard and fast while he let out grunts and groans of his own, inbetween strings of praise.

“This pussy feels so fuckin’ good,” he exhaled, and while his voice showed signs of fatigue, his body showed no signs of slowing down as he placed your back flat on the sofa and pushed your legs down so that your thighs rested against your stomach once again. This time, he didn’t instruct you to hold them, but held them down himself as he fucked you. The change in angle allowed him to push inside and reach deeper than before, knocking the wind out of you as he brushed the spot only he could reach. He watched as your eyes rolled back and fluttered closed, your mouth opening to let out loud whimpers and whines at how deep you felt him, and he whispered, “that’s it, baby,” before slowing down slightly, allowing you to feel every inch of him grinding into you. “This pussy takes me so fuckin’ good, you’re such a good girl.”

“So deep,” you replied breathlessly, his praise making your head spin. Joel’s hand suddenly settles at your neck, only applying slight pressure, pressure that, mixed with the fullness his cock gave, made you gasp in pleasure.

“I know it’s deep but you can take it, right?” he asked and you nodded your head erratically, as best as you could with his hand around your neck. “That’s right, my good girl takes it all.” You involuntarily clenched around him at his words, his smirk returning to his lips as he felt the effect that he had on you. “Touch your pretty little clit f’me,” he ordered, his voice breathy but still dominant, “make yourself come on my cock.”

You moved your hand down towards your centre and felt where your bodies met, where he was stretching you out like no one had done before, and surely like no one ever would again. Moving your fingers upwards towards your clit, you moved your fingers in tight, steady circles in an effort to make yourself come, wanting to do everything he asked of you, if it meant hearing even a morsel more of his praise. Your moans grew louder as you grew closer with each grind of Joel’s hips and each flick of your fingers. Between whines and gasps you tried to speak, “Joel, fuck, I’m gonna’,” but the words came out jumbled and broken, “Oh my God, you’re gonna make me,” you broke off in a high pitched moan, the noise accompanied by the squelching sound of your wetness gushing out of you as Joel kept thrusting hard, and he didn’t stop until he emptied into the condom with a low grunt and an extended fuuuuck.

Catching your breath, you watched as Joel ran to grab a cloth, still completely naked, and returned to gently clean you up. He put his boxers and sweats back on, but threw his shirt towards you, grumbling about how that would be comfier than, “those tight ass shorts,” before going to the kitchen. While he was gone, you got up to put your underwear back on and slipped his shirt over your head, feeling comfy and safe, enveloped in his clothes that still held his scent. Joel came back with a glass of water in his hand, “Just realised I didn’t even offer you a drink when you came in,” he placed the glass in your hand before sitting next to you and pulling you close.

“Your southern hospitality’s awful,” you giggled, “fucking me without even asking if I was thirsty?”

Joel opened his mouth to answer but was soon stopped by the doorbell ringing. “‘S probably the pizza,” he mumbled as he got up and walked to the door, paying the man and grabbing the pizza boxes in his hands before turning around and kicking the door closed. He settled next to you on the sofa again, placing the pizzas on the table and opening them up.

The tv was on, but you were hardly paying attention to what was playing, some re-run of an old show with an obnoxiously loud laughing track, you preferred to listen to Joel tell you about his week. He told you about his brother's mistakes that angered him to no end and the shock of his daughter asking him if he was seeing anyone.

“She asked you that?” He nodded at your question as he took a huge chunk out of his slice of pizza, chewing obnoxiously.

“Yeah,” he said, “she’s a little suspicious, I think Tommy might’ve mentioned something.”

“You talk to Tommy about me or something?” You asked teasingly, sitting back on the sofa and huffing at how full you felt.

He threw his last crust onto the pizza box, chewing his last bite before answering, “Had to explain why I kept checkin’ my phone somehow.” He sent you a wink as he spoke, smiling at you as you yawned and quickly tried to cover your mouth with your hand.

“You tired?”

“No,” you said sheepishly.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” he held your hand and began tugging you up off the sofa.

“I don’t want to sleep yet,” you whined, not wanting the night to end so quickly.

“We can just relax in bed for a while, baby,” he tugged you towards the stairs, gesturing for you to walk up first. He gave your ass a couple light slaps as you walked up, earning giggles from you. You brushed your teeth side by side, stealing glances at each other in the mirror and Joel left for the bedroom while you used the toilet.

Crawling into bed beside Joel, you inched closer towards him and found comfort in his outstretched arms. You lay facing each other, one of his arms resting underneath your body, allowing you to be as close as you could. He held you with a gentle grip, his big hands were outstretched, one spread across your back underneath his shirt and the other rested on your bicep. His hands were momentarily still, allowing you to feel the warmth of his hands, the heat being transferred from Joel’s body to yours through his soft touch. He continued to look at you as he started moving his hands, his fingers gently moving along your skin, as though he was connecting constellations in the stars. Your eyes followed his fingers carefully, your eyes traced their every move, just as the tips of his fingers traced every curve of your body, every bump or scar on your skin. And under the trace of his fingers, under the gaze of his eyes you felt truly seen. Has anybody seen you the way he saw you then? His gaze was heavy, his stare intense, but you didn’t shy away from his eyes, you didn’t flinch from his featherlight touch, you returned his stare and you returned his caress. Your fingers started moving along the skin of his arms, along the lines in his face, as if off their own accord. You subjected him to the same heavy, all consuming gaze as you looked into his eyes. You subjected him to the same featherlight, earnest touch as you ran your hands down his back, his sides, his arms, his face, anywhere you could reach. Because in that moment you saw him and he saw you.

You moved your hand up to Joel’s now dishevelled hair and ran your hand through it but Joel was quick to stop your endeavour. He grasped your wrist in his hand and turned it around, so that your palm was facing you. You watched as he looked at your hand with a furrowed brow. You couldn’t understand why your hand had captivated him so intensely until his other hand came up to join yours in front of his face, and he traced your wedding band with his thumb.You opened your mouth to speak but no words left your throat, and Joel’s words lingered in the air instead.

“Take the ring off.” He was now looking at you rather than at your ring, his eyes bored into yours as a shocked expression overtook your features. “Please,” he added, almost desperately, his voice nothing more than a whimper. “Just for tonight, I wanna’ pretend you're not his, that you’re mine.”

His confession almost broke you. You had struggled while coming to grips with your feelings but hadn’t thought about how Joel must feel, seeing a married woman, sleeping with a married woman, knowing that she was going home to her husband eventually. You carefully slid your wedding ring off your finger and moved from the bed to place it in your bag. When you climbed back into bed, you placed your left hand, now lacking your wedding ring, onto his cheek and, looking into his eyes, told Joel what you wished was true, “I’m yours, Joel.”

Joel’s lips met yours in a tender kiss, and when they departed, Joel spoke into your mouth, “I’m yours too,” his words left his lips, travelled down your throat and into your body, and devastated you from the inside out, “I’ll still be yours when you go back to him.”

You couldn’t speak, no helpful words came to your mind as you looked into Joel’s eyes. They looked into yours with a sad longing, one that you were sure was reflected in your own eyes. Unable to conjure up the words, you put your lips to his and kissed him deeply, pushing all the words you couldn't say into his mouth, willing him to understand you through your touch. His palm came to rest at the back of your neck, softly keeping you in place as he kissed you back, his tongue licking into your mouth as his other hand went to your lower back and pulled you closer towards him until your front was flush with his. His mouth left yours and placed kisses down your neck while his hands went to the ends of the shirt you were wearing, pulling it up and over your head. You did the same to him, wanting to feel his skin on yours, with nothing between your bodies.

He went to position himself further down the bed, further down your body and slowly spread your legs, but the sudden feeling of emptiness that dominated you made your arms lower to his, and your hands pulled at him to bring his face to yours again. The emptiness could be felt throughout your body, and you knew it would only be satisfied by Joel filling you up. “I just want you inside,” you whispered when his face was level with yours again.

“At least let me open you up first,” he said with furrowed brows, not wanting to hurt you, but pain was the last thing on your mind at that moment. You just wanted him. You wanted to feel him everywhere.

“Please,” you asked, “I need it.” He said nothing in response, only reached over your body to get into the bedside drawer, pulling out a condom. Your disappointment was evident in your face, and you let out a quiet, “no,” that was barely above a whisper. He turned his head to look at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I want to feel you, Joel,” you said, your voice still quiet, “all of you.” Suddenly worried about his response, you added, “I’m clean, I got checked last time I was at the gynaecologist.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t been with… him since then.” Your voice was timid and nervous, unsure how to explain that it had been weeks, months even, since you had slept with your husband. You were anxious to bring him up in such a conversation, unable to say his name, you knew he would know exactly who you were talking about.

He grimaced at your words, at the mention of your husband, but quickly hid his distaste, “I got tested after the last person I slept with, I’m clean too” his soft voice matched your quiet words as he placed the condom back in the drawer and pulled you close again. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any aversion, any discomfort, but only found a pleading want as you nodded your head and whispered a yes.

He positioned himself in between your legs and kissed you softly while running his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness onto his hand, circling your clit teasingly once, and spreading your juices onto his cock. His lips didn’t leave yours as he positioned his tip at your entrance and pushed himself inside you, moving inch by inch, creating a delicious burn as he stretched you out and filled you to the brim.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

You wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to pull him closer, although it felt impossible. He stayed fully seated inside of you, completely enveloped by your warmth as you both let out gasps and groans at the feeling. When Joel started moving, it was a slow, steady grind. Barely a movement, but enough to cause a delicious friction for both of you. You let out high pitched gasps of his name and he released grunts of yours. Your back arched as his tip kissed that spot so deep inside of you and his arms moved smoothly under your body, wrapping around you and holding you tight. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers running through his hair and pulling as he pushed heavy breaths out of your lungs.

In a messy, close tangling of limbs that was both greedy and unhurried, needy but not rushed, you felt him deep inside of you. You felt his whole length inside of you as he ground further into you, barely leaving the warmth of your cunt, only wanting to feel close to you, not wanting the separation that came with a full thrust.

“Joel,” you gasped, “Joel, please,” your mouth started to babble, the words involuntarily leaving you as he grunted in your ear, the sounds only heightening your wetness, your pussy clenching around his cock each time you heard him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asked with a hard grind of his hips, pushing impossibly deeper inside.

“I want you to fill me up, Joel,” you begged, your voice cracking with need.

“You’re already full o’me, baby,” he chuckled into your ear, taking your earlobe in between his teeth, licking and nibbling while continuing the rhythmic grind of his hips.

“No, Joel,” you were cut off by a loud moan leaving your throat as his hand slipped between your bodies to your clit, his fingers moving in tight, unfaltering circles to match the press of his hips. “I want you to come inside me.”

Joel groaned loudly as soon as the words reached his ears, gasping your name in equal parts shock and contentment. He pulled his head back to look into your eyes, his eyebrows raised in a wordless question.

“I have an IUD,” you said while pressing your hands into his lower back, wanting him, needing him deeper. His fingers moved quicker on your clit as he groaned at your admission, his hips faltering slightly.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl for me,” he grunted out, “lettin’ me stuff you full.” You moaned at his words and clamped down around his cock. The steady grind of his hips had now faltered and he was thrusting in and out of you slowly, but he was just as deep as before. This change in movement caused his tip to brush that spot over and over, in a quick procession. This, mixed with his words and grunts in your ear and his finger running firm circles on your clit made you come completely unannounced. It hit you like a wall and there was nothing you could say, you came with your mouth open in a silent scream, your walls clamped around his cock and fluttered gratefully. Your chest moved up and down with heavy breaths as Joel continued to fuck into you, pushing so deep inside and moaning your praise.

“That’s my good girl, fuck,” his grunts were becoming louder, deeper as he hurtled toward his orgasm, his hips stammering the closer he got. “Tell me you’re mine,” he said, his voice a mix between a plea and a command. “Fuckin tell me you’re mine,” he repeated, louder than before.

“I’m yours, Joel,” you said through moans, he was fucking you hard and deep, messy and hurried. “I’m yours,” you repeated once more before pleading, “come inside me, Joel.”

He let out a low growl at your words, and pushed himself deep, so that he was fully seated inside you, and let go, coming inside of you before pulling out to watch his spend trickle out of you, pushing it back in with his fingers before it could go far.

Exhausted, you lay down and closed your eyes, feeling the absence of his presence for a moment, until he returned to clean you up and got into bed beside you. You had read and read but never understood the feeling expressed in Jane Eyre of feeling so close to a lover, of being bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh. You had certainly never felt that close to Marcus. But in that moment, lying there with Joel, with your wedding ring thrown to the side and forgotten, your skin connected to his, your legs tangled together, as if you had tied yourselves to one another in an effort to keep each other near, you felt it, you understood.

The last thing you remembered before falling completely asleep was Joel placing a soft kiss on your temple.

You woke to an empty bed the next morning, the sheets crumpled and still warm to the touch on Joel’s side. Getting out of bed, you put on Joel’s shirt again and brushed your teeth in the bathroom before walking towards the stairs. At the top of the stairs you were met with the sight of Joel walking up, with a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Go back to bed,” his soft command was met with a look of confusion from you. “My plan was to wake you up with coffee in bed,” he explained, “so go back to bed.” You giggled at his thoughtfulness and upon hearing Joel’s quiet, “please,” turned around and walked back to the bedroom, settling into bed once more. You listened to the patter of his footsteps up the stairs and towards the room and the sexy gruff of his voice wishing you a “Mornin’, darlin’,” as he walked in, as if he hadn’t already seen you that morning.

He placed a cup of coffee in your outstretched hands and sat in bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whispered, smiling up at him, leaning up and pressing your lips against his. Last night was still at the forefront of your mind and you were overcome with emotions you couldn’t quite explain.

“Listen,” Joel began, “I meant what I said last night,” his words came at exactly the right time.

“I want you,” he explained, “and not just like this, I want all of you. But I need to know what your plans are, I need to know I’m not getting invested for nothing.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “You might be mine for now but when you go home to him, I still belong to you. So I just, I need to know.”

“I’m not staying with him Joel. It’s just, it's a big thing, a long process.” You wished you could give him more reassurance, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would put his mind at ease. You looked into his eyes and said, “I want you, not him.”

Joel’s hand came up to your cheek, lightly stroking the skin next to your ear with his thumb, “I don't want to put pressure on you, I just need to know that this is going somewhere.”

“It is,” you promised, “I’ll talk to him.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, as if you were sealing a promise, and felt nothing but happiness and safety.

The rest of the morning passed in pure domestic bliss, Joel cooked breakfast and you both drank another coffee while you talked over the show that was on tv. When it was time for you to leave, you reluctantly got dressed and gathered your things and climbed into the car, rolling the window down. Joel stood next to the window and leaned in to kiss you goodbye. Unable to leave yet, the goodbye kiss turned into an I don’t want to go kiss, full of uncertainty and words you wanted to say but couldn’t quite articulate. Pulling away you settled on a meek, “bye,” while Joel promised to call you soon. Joel watched and waved as you reversed out of his driveway and drove away, both of your minds full of possibilities for the future.

Your drive home was uneventful. You felt positive and excited, you were finally clear on your plans. You knew that you had to speak to Marcus about your marriage, suggest a separation and request a divorce and although you knew this would be difficult, your happiness was worth it, with or without Joel in the picture. You expected to arrive back to an empty house, like you normally did. What you didn’t expect to see was Marcus sitting at the dining table, facing the door, as if he was waiting for your return.

With shock evident in your voice, you let out a weak, “Hi,” but upon noticing the expression on his face you added, “are you ok, Marcus?” He looked disappointed, his hand held the bottom of his face and his brows were furrowed together.

“Where were you last night?” His question threw you off, and you scrambled to answer.

“I was at Carrie-”

“I know you weren’t at Carrie’s so I’ll ask one more time,” his voice was raised and firm, “where were you last night?” He spoke slowly, the anger he felt slowing down his speech. You knew then that the expression on his face wasn’t disappointment, it was anger, fury. You felt frozen on the spot, your mouth sewed shut with shock, you didn’t move or speak, only looked down at your feet, nervously bringing your hands together and fiddling with your thumbs.

Your heart jumped at the next words from Marcus, his booming voice only adding to the thumping acceleration of your heart.

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) Part 4 soon

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absurdthirst · 2 years

Text

The Filing Room Fling {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.2k

Warnings: Sex pollen, non-conish territory, unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple rounds, poor little pussy trauma, angst, hard feelings, pregnancy, mentions of nausea, video recorded sex, oral sex (female receiving), child birth

Comments: Hit by something on his way back to the office, Marcus Pike is overwhelmed by the intense need to just act on his want of you. To the point where he finds you in the large filing room and overwhelms you with the best sex of your fucking life. Then he acts like it never happened.

A/N: Halloweenish in the sense that the climax happens on Halloween. And there's something about sex pollen and Marcus Pike that we love around the spooky season.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

|| MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The filing room is large, quiet. The perfect place to just hide when you don’t want to deal with some of the team, deal with some of the inevitable office drama that sometimes pops up. Especially when you are the legal clerk for a team of FBI agents that most seem to think that makes you their secretary. You’re not, and Marcus Pike makes that clear to everyone on his team, but when the boss is away - you know, the team will dump all their work on you. Sighing, you look through the cabinet that you have open, cross referencing file numbers with the list that is on your legal pad. You need to get these files out and dig through them for the case that they are working on. Get them ready for Marcus to go through when he gets back to his desk tonight.

Marcus is making his way to work, having parked down the block since they are doing work on the parking garage in the Hoover building and he huffs when he walks past some young kids. Kids…they are probably in their early twenties. Shit, he is getting old. He grips his briefcase when one of the kids rushes towards him and he is ready for an attack but he splutters as some confetti explodes in his face. He coughs, waving his hand and the kids laugh, rushing off.

“Assholes.” He shouts, waving his briefcase just like his dad used to do. He wipes his face and continues on his journey when the kids don’t pay any attention. Within a few steps, he’s boiling hot. “Shit.” He mutters, frowning as he tugs on his tie, loosening it before he grabs his ID and enters the building, quickly making his way to his floor.

When he’s in his office, he shrugs off his jacket, taking his tie off entirely after he sets his briefcase down and he is wiping his sweaty brow. “What the hell was in that stuff?” He mumbles to himself. He notices the note you left, detailing your location in the filing room and he decides to find you, to ask if you know what’s wrong, but with each step to the filing room he takes, his cock seems to swell with need. He tries to adjust himself but he is panting with need by the time he lets himself into the filing room, desperately searching for you.

The door to the filing room clangs open, echoing throughout the larger warehouse sized room. “Hello?” You call out, looking up from the file you were making sure was the correct one. “Johnson? Is that you?” One of the team loved playing practical jokes and even though it was only right after Labor Day, he was already starting to talk about Halloween. You wouldn’t put it past him to try to scare the shit out of you. Footsteps seem to rush towards your direction, but no one answers you. “Hello?”

Marcus hisses, placing his hand on the cabinet as he struggles to walk, his cock throbbing and he pants as sweat drips down his cheek. He follows your voice and the noise of paper and cabinet drawers opening and closing. He finally finds your aisle and stumbles down it, seeing you there and he almost crawls to you, his entire body aching for you.

“Oh shit! Marcus you scared the shit out of me.” Jumping when you see movement out of the corner of your eyes, your entire body sags in relief when you spot the man who was the head of the Art Crimes Division. It had taken him a month to convince you to just call him ‘Marcus’ instead of ‘Agent Pike’ and you like the familiarity. You frown when he doesn’t answer, pushing the cabinet closed and taking a step towards him. “Marcus, are you okay?”

When Marcus sees you, he stumbles forward and just grabs you. Driven by need and all logical thought gone. He drags you into his body and presses his lips to yours, groaning in relief at the way your body curves against his, making him sigh as the fire burning inside of him recedes a fraction.

Marcus’s tongue slides into your mouth as he pushes you against the wall of filing cabinets, his tongue is insistent and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass. He grinds against you, his cock throbbing and he could cum just from this. He manages to hiss out, “let me fuck you” before he is spinning you around, reaching for the zipper of your dress to tug it down, his teeth biting into the nape of your neck.

“Oh fuck.” You choke out in surprise, hands slapping against the metal filing cabinet while he drags the zipper down. You can’t believe this is happening like something straight out of your dreams. His cock is grinding against your ass, making you moan when he twitches. “Fuck Marcus, yes.” You agree breathlessly, not caring that anyone could possibly come into the file room, it was a labyrinth.

Your breathless consent makes him groan and he runs his fingers down your spine before he pushes the dress off of your shoulders, exposing your bra. He reaches for the hem of the dress, tugging it up and his fingers slide between your thighs and he finds your clit, even in the haze of his lust he wants you ready for him.

You don’t know what’s gotten into him, but the question dies on your lips when he presses his fingers against your clit. Whimpering, you feel his hot breath against your skin, groaning as your hips push back and your ass grinds against his cock. “Fuck baby.” You bite your lip when he pushes the panties to the side and his fingers slide between your folds.

Marcus groans when he finds you wet, not dripping, but definitely turned on. His cock is aching and the heat inside of him burns higher and he works your clit while biting down on your neck, wanting to bury the flurry of words making their way up his throat. He wants to tell you how often he’s dreamed of this but the need burns stronger than flouncy words of dedication and desire.

He’s rougher than you ever imagined. Biting down on your skin and making you whine while the fingers that you’ve imagined touch you. You had always assumed Marcus would be sweet, gentle. There’s nothing gentle about this and you find yourself desperate for more. His other hand has a bruising grip on your hip and you reach for it, bringing it up to your breast and you moan when he immediately squeezes harshly.

Your cries are music to his heart and torture to his body, his cock aching to be released. He struggles to continue working his clit, needing to just sink into you but he doesn’t. He has a modicum of control and he squeezes your breast, groaning your name when he feels you getting wetter.

“Marc- oh fuck Marcus.” Your head presses against his shoulder, eyes closed while your hips roll with his hand. Panting while you work closer and closer to cumming for him. He pinches your nipple, growling against your ear and your entire body lights up. Giving a soft cry, your cunt flutters, soaking itself in pleasure while your stomach heaves.

Marcus groans, sliding his fingers back until he can feel how wet you are for him. His fingers then grip your panties, ripping the lace and he tosses it to the floor before he spins you around. "Fuck baby. Need you. Need to be inside you." He moans, pushing you up against the filing cabinets and his hands fumble as he unbuckles his belt, groaning in relief when he manages to pull his hard cock out.

Gasping at the way he is manhandling you, you’re dripping with need as you lift your leg up on his hip. Nearly as frantic as he is as you tug on his shirt, pulling it up so your hands can touch his heated skin. Marcus groans, shuffling forward and plunging into so hard it makes you squeal as he fills you.

His hands grab the back of your thighs, lifting you up and pressing you into the cabinets. His fingers digging into your flesh as he wastes no time in rocking into you. "Fuck baby. You're so tight." He groans, pressing his lips to yours.

You have to be dreaming. It’s the only reason you can think that he’s rough and dominant. Making your moan as you wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability while he starts to hammer into you. “Oh fuck, shit.” You pant out, his lips crushed against yours. It’s perfect and everything you need from a dirty fucking.

Marcus is like a man possessed, pushing into you with grunts and groans, unable to stop himself as the fire burns within him, this incessant need for you. His fingers dig into your ass as his cock pushes deep with each thrust. “Fuck baby. You’re so - so tight. Always thought you would be. So good.” He rambles, lost in a haze.

Whining, your cunt clenches around his cock, loving how fucking filthy Marcus is. He’s fucking you deep and hard, the force of it pushing up against the filing cabinets and if it weren’t for them being so sturdy, they might fall over. Instead the clanging of metal is loud, covering up your moans every time he hits deep. “Yes, f-f-fuck.” You stammer out, kissing along his jaw.

Marcus groans when you kiss along his jaw, pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue into your mouth. His fingers keep you lifted as his hips slam against your ass, seeking an orgasm from you before he cums, praying it extinguishes the burn inside of him.

You whine, loving how forceful he’s being. Your tongue tangles with his so all of your sounds are being poured into him. Your fingers slide through his hair, tugging and you’re rewarded with a bitten bottom lip and a sharper thrusts so you pull harder.

Your whines spur him on and he’s desperate to make you cum. His hand snaking between you to find your clit and he rubs harsh circles in an effort to make you cum. “Cum for me.” He begs, “please baby.”

All you can do is cling to him, your legs wrapped around his waist while he hammers into you. His thumb presses against your clit and you shatter, giving a hoarse scream that breaks and goes silent while you tremble around his pulsing cock.

Your cunt gripping him like a vice has him letting go, his cock pulsing as he cums, pushing deep as he moans your name. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes.” He grunts, rocking himself through his orgasm as he paints your walls with his hot seed. The fire seems to burn brighter and he continues rocking into you, desperate to feel cool and painless.

You whimper when you feel the hot flood of his cum fill you up, wrung out from your own orgasm. Marcus groans, rocking into you still and you don’t feel him slowing down. “Fuck.” Your eyes wide and you turn your head to look at him, surprised he was the type of man to stay hard. You had assumed like most men, he was a ‘one and done’ kind of guy.

He can’t stop, continuing to thrust into you with a hiss and he groans your name, unable to stop as he seeks another orgasm from your body. His face buried in your chest, biting down on your nipple through your bra and he pants against your flesh, continuing to try and quell the fire raging inside of him

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, baby.” Your head leans back, thumping against the cabinet and you let him continue to rock frantically into you. Loving how needy he is and how sharp those teeth are on your breasts. “Feels so good, so fucking deep inside me.”

“This pussy - God, baby. Imagined it far too many times. I always - always wanted you.” He admits, lost to the haze of the drug and he groans your name when your walls flutter around his cock. His thighs are starting to hurt so he pulls out of you, forcing himself to do so and whines at the loss. Keeping you in his arms, he sets you down on your feet and turns you so you are facing the cabinet. He ducks down and pushes back inside of you without missing a beat.

You shudder, rocking up onto the balls of your feet as he moves. His little confession has your walls fluttering, hands holding onto the cabinet like your life depends on it. “Fuck Marc-“ you don’t know why he’s decided that today is the day, but he’s better than any lover you’ve ever had and you aren’t going to question it right now. “Take- take what you need.” You gasp out, feeling his cum sliding out and down your thighs with every stab of his hips.

Marcus pants, thrusting up into you and he grips your hips as he works himself deeper and faster, sweat beading on his forehead and dripping as he groans and moans. “Fuck. You’re - you’re so good to me baby. So damn good.” He hisses when you grip him again and his hands slide up to squeeze your tits, pinching your nipples through the lace.

“Shiiiit.” You whimper, eyes rolling back and you lean your head back against his shoulder. His cock is still shredding up into you and making you squeal every time he punches deep. “G-gonna c-cum.” You warn him, another couple of rough thrusts happen before you fall apart again. “Marcus!”

Your orgasm makes him cum, groaning as he leans in to bite down on your neck to smother the roar that bubbles up while his cock pulses inside of you, filling you up once again. “So- so fucking good baby. So good.” He groans, kissing the place he bit and the fire lessens.

He still doesn’t stop moving, making you keen at how he’s like a fucking machine. “Oh god, oh god!” You reach back and grab the back of his neck, feeling how tense his body is as he works in and out of you. “Fuck!” Your cries echo in the filing room but you don’t care, too busy being fucked to death by your boss.

His jaw is clenched, his entire body rigid as he works his cock in and out of you at a relentless pace, needing you to cum one last time. Sweat drips down his neck and he kisses the nape of yours, wanting to taste you. “Cum.” He pleads, choked up and lost in the haze of his own impending orgasm.

“I can’t. I can’t.” You shake your head, practically babbling as he continues to overstimulate you. It’s too much, the pleasure nearly overwhelming and you feel like he's ripping you apart piece by piece. You whine when he reaches around you, ruthlessly rubbing your clit, determining that you're going to cum again. “M-M-Marc-u-u-us.”

Marcus growls, “you can. You fucking can.” He rubs your clit harder, needing you to fall apart for him. “Cum for me. Now. Cum for me baby.” He hisses, thrusting into you with the same frenzied pace.

You wail, loudly and almost pained as you follow his order. Your cunt spasming and clenching like a vice around his cock. Your body jerks while you come apart again, sagging against the cabinet when your knees buckle.

Marcus hisses again when you push deep into him, making him growl your name, and he buries his cock deep inside of you. Painting your walls for the third time and he is just lost in the pleasure, finally able to relax and the burn extinguishes. “Fuck.” He grunts, kissing the back of your neck.

It’s all you can do to stay upright. Marcus holding onto you as you bite your lip when you feel him slow down and still inside you. You ache, your core throbbing from the most intense fuck of your life and you can’t even manage to get a word out as you pant.

Marcus closes his eyes, just breathing you in as he enjoys the bliss coursing through his veins, the drug seemingly worked out of his system. “Thank you.” He murmurs, kissing your neck before he pulls out of you, his cum plopping onto the government standard carpet and he’s so boneless to give a fuck.

You hum, shuffling as you try to lower your skirt down over your hips. Your panties are ruined and you are waiting for Marcus to say something, but it’s like he’s drunk. You don’t blame him, you’re exhausted too.

Marcus stumbles back, reaching down with shaking hands to tuck himself away. He is exhausted but satiated, the burn ebbing away with each passing moment. “So good.” He mumbles to him, buckling his belt before he starts to walk away, making his way down the aisle you were in without even a glance back at you.

When you turn around, Marcus is gone. Staring in disbelief until you hear the door open and close. “Oh my god.” You whisper, unable to believe that he just fucked you and walked away. Your legs shake as you put yourself back together, wincing when you close your legs and you know that you can’t stay at work. You leave everything where it’s at as you practically limp to your desk to get your purse. Marcus’s office door is closed and if you were so sore, you would March in there and demand to know what that was. Right now, that throbbing is starting to hurt so you just want to go home and put an ice pack on your pussy.

****

Marcus groans when he wakes up, his head throbbing and he instantly regrets sleeping on the sofa in his office. “Fuck.” He hisses, rubbing his eyes and his head pounds while he tries to remember why he slept in the office. He eventually decides it must’ve been working too late on paperwork yesterday. It’s weird, he doesn’t remember anything about the day before but he figures it was just a long day. With a sigh, he sits up and decides to freshen up using the toiletry bag he keeps in his drawer for times like this. After freshening up, he figures he will grab a coffee as everyone is filing into work and when he passes your office, you’re not there. Unusual. You are normally one of the first people in the office. He shakes his head, figuring you must be sick, and makes his way to the break room.

You whimper, leaning back in the bed and pressing another soft, icy cold gel pack to your vagina. You had called and left a voicemail, telling your boss you wouldn’t be in. There’s no way you can sit at your fucking desk. Not like this. Your lips are swollen, tender from what happened yesterday. You had tears in your eyes while you were bathing last night, cleaning up the fucking gallon of cum he had left inside you. Honestly, you don’t know how he did that, but you need to talk to him when he calls you back.

Marcus frowns when he grabs lunch and doesn’t see you in the office. He contemplates calling you but knows you wouldn’t want to be disturbed if you are sick. He heads back to his office, sitting down at his desk with yet another coffee, anything to stave off the headache that won’t seem to go away. “Fuck.” He groans, tempted to go home himself and just sleep the day away.

He didn’t call you all day. When the clock started creeping past five, you wondered if he would just come over after work. The conversation you needed to have should be in person after all. Your Uber delivery of cream to help the inflammation has done wonders and you can actually put on pants. Really loose ones, but it was better than you had been when you woke up.

Marcus heads home, ready to lay on the sofa with a beer and relax. He doesn’t know what the hell happened yesterday but he doesn’t remember a thing. He walks past your office, wondering what happened but he figures you will be in tomorrow. With that, he goes home to relax.

****

It’s disappointing. You’re disappointed in Marcus - probably since the first time you met him. It’s been complete radio silence, but you decide that you’re going to be the bigger person, just assume that he didn’t know how to approach things yesterday and would talk to you at the office. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t fucked you at the office either. Maybe he felt like he was intruding if he contacted you yesterday. Sighing, you readjust your purse on your shoulder as you wait for the elevator.

Marcus looks up when there’s a knock on his door and he smiles when you walk in after he calls out “enter.” The look on your face makes him frown and he looks at you. “Is everything okay?” He asks, setting his pen down and he looks at you, wondering what is wrong.

You stare at him for a moment, wondering if he is joking but he calls your name again. “What’s wrong?” The look of confusion looks completely genuine and you are just floored. He wants to pretend that the day before yesterday never happened. “Apparently nothing.” You huff before you roll your shoulders back and plaster on a professional look. “Is there anything you need from me today?” You ask, wondering if he’s just trying to see how you want to play this.

Marcus’s frown deepens and he wonders what the hell he has done wrong. He shakes his head, “uh, no?” He picks up his pen, “do you need anything from me?” He counters, noticing how mad you are at him and wondering why that’s the case.

You swallow back a derisive sound and shake your head. “I can’t think of a thing, Agent Pike.” The use of his title is needed right now. “I will finish pulling those files I never got to.” Your stomach feels like a roller coaster as you turn around and walk out of his door. Feeling used is probably the most appropriate one to settle on as you make yourself a cup of coffee and hesitantly go back to the scene of the crime.

Marcus watches you go, confused by the interaction, and he tries to figure out what the hell happened. He wonders why you are so upset with him. Did he forget to assign you a case? Is a coworker upsetting you? He knows you will come to him when you are ready to tell him so he turns back to his work, deciding to carry on.

Nothing has changed. Your cheeks burn when you see the file you had been holding scattered on the floor and the stains on the carpets where Marcus’s cum had landed. He hadn’t come back and cleaned up. Evidence that you hadn’t imagined it is right here and you bend down to pick up the file, to not think about it. If Marcus wants to pretend it didn’t happen, you would pretend it didn’t happen.

****

Marcus continues on over the next few weeks, thanking you when you bring him the files and he’s so confused when you blank him, unsure of what could have possibly happened to make you ignore him. “Is she in today?” He asks Carson, wanting to see you about the case but it’s been weeks since you’ve been ignoring him and you’ve been out sick.

Carson throws a look towards your closed office door and nods. “She is, but she doesn’t look very well.” He admits, worried about the circles under your eyes and the way you’ve been getting sick lately. All he’s seen you eat is ginger ale and crackers. “She won’t tell me what’s been going on.”

You’ve been tired all the time, tired and sick. Unable to tolerate much, the pack of crackers and the small can of ginger ale sit next to your elbow. You had just meant to rest for a moment, close your eyes after another wave of nausea washed over you, but you’re dead asleep, arms folded up in your desk and your head laying on them.

When Marcus walks in, he sees you passed out and his eyes widen. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asks, concerned for your well-being and he reaches out to touch your arm as you remain still on the desk.

Gasping, you shoot up with your eyes wide, startled awake. “What- uh, oh-“ you fluster when you see Marcus in front of you, a concerned look on his face. “Yeah- uh, sorry. I guess I fell asleep.” You fidget, straightening up in your chair and reaching for your ginger ale to take a sip of it. “Did you need something?”

Marcus is even more concerned when he finds you asleep at your desk and he steps back and closes the door behind you. “Sweetheart. What is going on? Can you talk to me?” He almost begs. Before you froze him out, he had considered you good friends and coworkers. Now, he could be a virtual stranger.

You stare at him for a moment, contemplating telling him but then you remember that he had acted like the filing room had never happened. You shake your head, giving a small shrug of your shoulders. “Nothing you should concern yourself with, I’ve been dealing with some health issues.” You take another sip of your ginger ale. “Did you need something?”

Marcus frowns, shaking his head, and he figures you will tell him when you are ready. He sighs, “no. Do you need anything?” He asks, watching you and he wonders if you are keeping something from him. He wants to help, needs to help. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?”

“Can’t think of a thing.” You hum, turning back to the file you had been going through before you had fallen asleep. It’s petty to ignore him and you know it, but he had started it after he had gotten what he wanted and never thought to have a conversation with you about it after. You can feel his eyes on you but you ignore them, reaching for a cracker to munch on while you read.

Marcus sighs, knowing you aren’t interested in telling him what’s wrong and he nods, backing out of your office to make his way back to his own office, despondent and unsure of what to do to make your working relationship okay.

****

You don’t want to be here, but the team had complained that you didn’t hang out after work like you used to. You feel obligated to come to the annual Halloween party. Grimacing to yourself, you wonder if anyone will get your costume, very last minute and ironic if you say so yourself. Sighing, you watch the doors open and you step into the same office space you spent your work day, now decorated for Halloween.

The last thing Marcus wants to do is go to this stupid office Halloween party but he knows he has to make an effort with his team, keeping a good relationship with the people in department. He adjusts his costume - some basic basketball outfit he wears when he plays with his friends on the weekend, the ball under his arm - and he strides into the office, the music blaring and drinking already flowing.

“Hey! You made it!” Carson grins, his fake fangs on display and he holds up a freshly opened beer. “Want one?” He offers, making you quickly shake your head.

“No, I - I’m not drinking much lately.” You explain. “I’ve been cutting back.”

Marcus approaches the group and frowns when you don’t even greet him like everyone else does. “Hey.” He says, deciding to be the bigger man and he takes the open beer Carson went to give you. “You sure you don’t want a drink? I can get you something else.” Marcus offers.

“No.” You chuckle slightly and motion to your outfit. “What kind of mother would I be if I drank?” You joke. You had decided that you would show up as a mom. It’s fitting and a little ironic, even though everyone would think that the ‘baby on board’ shirt was a joke.

Marcus’s eyebrows raise at your costume choice. “Why- what made you pick that outfit?” He asks, genuinely curious. Carson walks off, leaving you and Marcus alone and he turns to look at you. “It’s - it suits you.”

You snort. “It better suit me.” You huff before you tap the shirt. “I picked it because I’m going to be a mom soon.” You take a deep breath. “Just like….. you’re going to be a dad.” It hadn’t been how you were planning on telling him, but he needed to know. You’re nearly nine weeks pregnant after all and you figure that since he’s not talked about that day, you would do it.

Marcus’s first reaction is to laugh. Figuring you are just playing into the costume and pranking him. His laugh makes you frown and he stops laughing. “You’re joking, right?” He asks, his smile slowly falling.

“Jesus Christ, Agent Pike.” Your tone is clipped and you shake your head in disappointment. “You’re taking that entire joke of ‘what happens in the filing room stays in the filing room’ too far.” There had been a joke that the filing room was where people went to cry or scream, and that no one should talk about it. Of course there were comments made about sex in there, but everyone was joking for the most part. “Excuse me.” He’s not going to see you cry, so you quickly turn around to leave. Coming here was obviously a mistake. Telling him was an even bigger one.

When you walk away, his mind whirls as he tries to understand what you mean by the filing room. His head hurts as the pain pricks behind his ears and he rushes to follow you through the crowd. When he finds you opening your office, he follows you, walking in behind you. “Please. I need - I need you to explain.” He pleads, almost desperate to know what the hell happens. He’d definitely remember if he had sex with you to get you pregnant.

You give a harsh chuckle and shake your head. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You are done with his bullshit. “You didn’t realize basic biology? Having unprotected sex, fucking me within an inch of my life, and cumming inside me three different times will result in an unplanned pregnancy, Agent Pike. No matter if you pretended it didn’t happen the next day or not.”

Marcus’s jaw drops, “I- I don’t - what the fuck? I don’t remember. I wouldn’t - Jesus Christ. I - I swear to you, I swear to God, that I do not remember being inside of you. I swear…that is definitely something I would remember and I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry sweetheart. I don’t - what - when did this happen?”

You roll your eyes, not believing him for a second and that’s sad. Before this happened, you would have said Marcus Pike was an amazing, stand up guy. Now….. “Two months ago, you walked into the filing room. And you were all over me, kissing me, begging me to let you fuck me. And after…you just walked away.” You snort. “I had to call out the next day because I couldn’t fucking walk and you just act like you didn’t fuck me for nearly two hours straight against a filing cabinet.”

Marcus bursts out laughing, unable to stop himself. “You really are joking. Is there - shit - is there a hidden camera anywhere? I know you are fucking with me. You gotta be. Come on sweetheart. Where is the camera? Where are the guys? You gotta be fucking around with me.” He chuckles, knowing he could never fuck for two hours straight.

Your jaw clenched and you barely keep yourself from reaching out and slapping him. The entire thing was one big fucking joke and you are at the center of it. “Yep.” You hiss sarcastically. “I’m fucking with you.” The idea of being in your office now is completely unappealing, making you point towards the door. “Now that you’re done gaslighting me, get the fuck out of my office. It’s after hours and I don’t have to deal with you, sir.”

Marcus knows you’re being serious, the look in your eyes is something he’s seen in people he’s interviewed. “Okay sweetheart. I- let me - there’s cameras in the filing room. Only department heads have access. Let me - let’s go to my office and see.” He orders, reaching for your hand but you pull it away. He nods in understanding and guides you through the party to his office, logging into his computer to access the camera system.

You huff to yourself, telling yourself that you should have just gone home. Not allow him the opportunity to ‘find evidence’ that you are telling the truth. Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this. Why is he putting you through this when he knows what happened? Part of you is mortified at the idea of there being cameras in the filing room. What happened is on tape. Instead you sit down in a chair and look down at your folded hands in your lap. You don’t want to look at him.

Marcus asks for the day and time and you give it to him, letting him pull up the footage and his eyes widen when he finds the camera that shows him stumbling into the filing room, another camera showing him grabbing you and kissing you, pushing you up against the filing cabinet and fucking you. “Shit.” He hisses, feeling awful for touching you like that. “I didn’t - did I ask if I could-?” He feels sick, thinking he’s violated you.

You frown, wondering if he’s not faking this for the first time. “Marcus - you know you asked and I said yes.” You insist, pointing at the monitor. The two of you are very enthusiastically fucking by this point on the screen. “Does it look like I’m resisting?”

“I don’t - I swear to you. I don’t remember it. I - fuck. When I was walking into work, I got hit in the face with some confetti and that’s all I remember that day. I couldn’t figure out what had happened for the rest of the day. It seems - I don’t remember this. I swear to you. I would never- I would have spoken to you about it. I wouldn’t have just walked off and never talked about it again and now you’re - you’re pregnant.” He chokes, heart swelling despite the guilt threatening to drown him.

Biting your lip, you look at the devastation that is written on his face. He’s not lying. Your heart thumps in your chest and you take a deep breath. “It’s- it’s why I’ve been so distant.” You admit quietly. “I was upset that you just seemed to blow me off and then I found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago. Right before you found me asleep in my office.”

Marcus wishes he could go back in time but he can’t. He feels so guilty, unable to comprehend it really. He wants to pull you close but he knows you could just ignore him, tell him you never want to see him again. He wouldn’t blame you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I didn’t - shit - I didn’t know. I understand now. It’s all my fault.”

“You really don’t remember?” You have to ask, have to know for certain. If he doesn’t remember, then it would be horrible for you to continue on. And why would he go check the cameras if he had remembered?

He shakes his head. “No. I promise you baby. I don’t remember. I don’t - if I had remembered, I would’ve been there. I wouldn’t have walked off. I wouldn’t have left you because I- I’ve - I’ve always had a crush on you.” He confesses. It’s true. You’re what he’s been waiting for and he won’t let you go, he won’t walk away. Especially since you are pregnant.

“Oh my god.” You cover your mouth as your entire world shifts slightly. “Does that mean I took advantage of you?” You whisper, horrified at the idea. If he was drugged, he had no clue what he was doing, where you were fully aware of what was happening - you could consent. “Oh my god.” You feel like you could throw up, again.

Marcus shakes his head, “absolutely not. Baby, I - I have always wanted you. I took advantage of you. I did. I shouldn’t have - especially, shouldn’t have just walked off after. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He looks back at the video footage. Feeling distraught and incredibly guilty.

It makes you feel a little better, but you are still shaken. You had thought he was being an asshole. Not that he had no memory of what happened. “That’s why you didn’t call me.” You whisper. “I expected you to call, or come over when I didn’t go to work the next day.”

“I wish I could remember. I would’ve been there for you this entire time. I’m so sorry.” He reaches for you before lowering his hand, knowing he shouldn’t touch you. You don’t want him, especially not now. He has a responsibility to you but you likely don’t want him near you.

You see him reach out and then drop his hand. Remorse and guilt in his eyes and you feel bad for all the names you’ve called him in your head over the past two months. Especially when you found out you were pregnant. “I- it’s okay.” You murmur, reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry that I- I didn’t know you didn’t remember. I should have said something sooner. Rather than icing you out.”

Marcus shakes his head, “you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s - those fucking kids. I just - what do you want? I want to contribute to the baby if…if you are planning on keeping it?” He tilts his head, knowing you didn’t discuss it despite telling him your costume is a mom.

You bite your lip. “I was planning on it. I thought about terminating, but-“ you shake your head. “I’ve always wanted kids and a family but can never find a man who doesn’t play games or cheat.” You roll your eyes at your shitty luck with men. “So I just decided that this is my chance.”

Marcus nods, “if you want me to be a father, to be there, I will. If you want, I will step back and contribute monetarily. I- I want to be the father. I want…I want us to - to try and be together.” He tells you, giving you options about what capacity you want him to be in yours and the baby’s life.

You breathe out an exasperated and ironic sigh. “I’ve wanted to hear that from you for so long and now that I have- I don’t know if it’s best.” You whimper. “I don’t want you to be with me because of a child that happened when you don’t even remember sleeping with me.” You point at the screen, Marcus still hammering into you. “Don’t feel guilty and think you have to do the right thing.”

Marcus shakes his head, “not at all. I don’t feel guilty. I do - I think I’m halfway in love with you already and I know you don’t want me to do this because I’m obligated but I want to go slow. Maybe I can take you out for dinner and we go from there? I want to be in this baby’s life.” He looks back at the screen, “Jesus. I really went for it. Didn’t I?”

You can’t help but snicker slightly, your eyes on the screen as you see your mouth open in another scream. Obvious another orgasm. “I had to ice down my pussy.” You admit with a small chuckle. “Whatever made you do that is some strong shit.”

“Seriously? I- oh shit. I’m so sorry.” He cringes and you chuckle, “it’s okay. Trust me, it was worth it.” Marcus sighs, “I don’t know what it was. I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“Do you, uh, want to get out of here?” You ask, knowing that you need to talk about a lot of things. A conversation best suited for outside the office. “We could- I have the ultrasound at home. If you want to see it?”

Marcus nods, “yes. I’d like that. Can we - can we go now? I’m - the party will continue without us and I just want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk here. Let’s go sweetheart.” He says, standing up and he logs out of the camera, offering you a soft smile.

Nodding, you remember the state of your apartment and fluster. “Uh, so you’ll have to forgive my house.” You admit as you fish your keys out of your pocket. “I’ve been so sick, I haven’t really felt like picking up much.” You don’t want him to get the idea you’re a complete slob, but most of the nights you are sick or worn out so things just get pushed aside. “Tonight’s the first night I’ve actually felt like getting off my couch and I really didn’t want to come.”

“Don’t even worry about it, baby. I totally understand. I want to help. Maybe…is it okay if I pick some things up for you? You can sit on the couch and order me around for a change.” He teases, taking your hand once you are in the parking garage. “You want me to follow you?

Or you wanna drive with me?”

You giggle quietly and hate how much you want him to drive you back. “Do you mind?” You ask softly. You can always get an Uber to work on Monday. “I really don’t feel like driving.”

“Not at all. Come on, let me drive you home.” He tells you, guiding you to his car. He opens the passenger door and lets you in, rounding the car after closing the door to get into the driver’s side. He smiles and takes your hand again after starting the engine and backing out of his assigned spot.

You’re nervous, you can’t help it. Even though he said you didn’t take advantage you feel like you did. You’re pregnant and you honestly don’t know if he ever wanted to be a father. “Do you- I mean, I didn’t ask but are you okay with me being pregnant? It’s a big deal and I feel like it should be your decision too.”

Marcus laughs, nervous and breathless. “I, uh, I have wanted to be a father ever since my first marriage. My ex wife…she didn’t want kids in the end so we broke it off. I’ve always wanted kids so this…it’s my dream come true. And for you to be the mother? I couldn’t ask for more.” He promises, “I am happy. I’m excited.” He promises, squeezing your hand.

You smile, even if you think he might be trying to paint a rosy gloss over the situation. “Okay.” You squeeze his hand back slightly and decide to talk. “So, I understand if you want a DNA test but that - it was the first time I’ve had sex in a long time. So you don’t have to worry about getting anything.” It wasn’t like you had been thinking about safety or STDs when you were getting your brains fucked out.

Marcus nods, “I want a DNA test but not because I need to prove that it’s my baby. I just want us to be on the same page and I think we would always have that “what if?” question between us. I want to do this right. From the get go. I’m clean too. It’s been a while since - well, since Teresa.” He admits with flushed cheeks.

“You made up for it, that’s for sure.” You snort, unable to help the way you clench around nothing and get a little wet thinking about how he had fucked you. Looking over and stealing a glance at his slide profile, you admire the sharpness of his jaw and the curve of his nose. “And before you can ask, yes - you made me, uh, cum. Several times. You were insistent on it.”

Marcus blushes, pleased and glad to hear he pleasured you despite the way he took you. “Good. I'm glad. I didn’t - I didn’t want to just take. I’m glad I made it good for you.” He squeezes your hand and turns onto your street, remembering where you live but you’ll have to tell him the house.

Pointing out the quaint building that had been turned into apartments. Your space is still free and Marcus pulls into the spot and shuts off the engine. “I- yeah, again, I’m sorry.” You huff in embarrassment as you open your door. Your clothes are laying all around and there are some empty soda bottles. It’s not dirty, but you try to keep it neat and the mess has been bothering you but you’ve been too tired to do anything about it.

Marcus shakes his head and follows you into your home, “don’t even worry about it. Sit down and let me clean up. You want tea or a soda?” He asks, stepping into your kitchen. He wants to help, he wants to be there for you and ensure you are happy and healthy.

“I don’t-“ Marcus turns around and looks at you, his expression telling you that he was going to get you something to drink. “Tea.” You murmur. “I try to only drink ginger ale when my stomach is upset.” You pick up your extra bra from where it was flung on the back of a chair and fluster slightly.

Marcus nods, laughing softly when you try to hide your bra. “Sit down. Find something to watch, and then I will clean up before we watch tv. I want you to relax and we can talk while the show plays.” He steps into the kitchen to start preparing your tea.

“Oh my fucking god.” There’s a pair of your panties right at the edge of the couch where you had been desperate to be comfortable last night and they were irritating you. You huff to yourself and reach down to scoop them up. You shove them in your purse along with your bra before you turn on the tv and try to follow his orders. Nervous and reaching for the sonogram picture that is on the coffee table. He will want to see that.

Marcus quickly prepares the tea, coming out of the kitchen to set it down on your coffee table. He sees the scan and swallows, “is that- is that the baby?” He asks, looking up at you as he shifts to kneel down beside you.

Nodding, you hand him the sonogram and watch as his eyes soften and get very misty. It’s amazing how he cradles the picture like it is fragile. “Too early to learn if it’s a boy or girl.”

He caresses the scan, “I don’t care what it is. It’s mine. It’s ours. We made that. I just - I never imagined I’d get the chance…I was never - my ex didn’t - she didn’t want them with me.” He swallows and reaches for your hand. “I’m sorry for what happened but I’m not sorry for this.”

You smile at the happiness that is spreading on his face. “I’m not sorry for what happened.” You admit quietly. “I hated that you seemingly ghosted me, but I understand why now. I wish you remembered it, but no regrets.”

“No regrets.” Marcus echoes, setting the scan down and he will ask you for a copy. “Come on baby, relax and let me clean up. Find a movie. I’ll get this place clean as soon as possible.” He winks, standing up and he gathers the bottles in his arms, putting them in the trash.

It’s nice being taken care of, if you’re honest with yourself. You’ve felt guilty about the mess, even though it’s not much - it bothered you. The fact that he is willing to come and pick up things you should have been able to do yourself is almost luxurious. It’s the Marcus you fantasized about. Not doing your bidding, but being considerate, thoughtful. You hun and watch him move, noticing how relaxed he looks in his basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Almost as if it’s just a lazy night at your shared house.

He moves fast, cleaning and putting everything in the dishwasher before turning it on. He is soon seated beside you on the sofa, turning to look at you. “Did you find a movie you want to watch, sweetheart?” He asks, reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips, wanting to assure you that he’s here.”

“Since it’s Halloween…we have to go with the classics.” You smirk, nodding towards the screen where the original Halloween is queued to play. “You don’t mind do you? Figured since you left the party for me, you should have some scariness.”

Marcus shakes his head, “not at all. Let’s do it. I’ll get some snacks.” He stands up and makes his way into the kitchen, looking to see what you have. “Have you been grocery shopping lately?” He asks, frowning when he doesn’t see a lot of options.

“Oh.” You join him in the kitchen with an embarrassed look on your face. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been really sick with the pregnancy so far. I’ve been living off mostly crackers and some soup sometimes.” You admit quietly. “Sorry, I don’t really have much.”

Your confession has his heart breaking. “It’s still early. I can order some groceries. What snacks do you want? What have you been craving?” He asks, reaching for his phone so he can order some snacks. He wants to take care of you. He won’t let you go without anymore. He’s here now and he’s determined to make sure you are safe and healthy.

It’s been so long since you’ve craved anything, but your stomach seems to be acting alright. Maybe it was partly due to the stress of Marcus not knowing. “Some cookies?” You ask hesitantly. “You don’t have to do that. I can order something.” You don’t want him to feel like he has to take care of you.

“I want to take care of you. Cookies. What else? Tell me baby. I want to look after you. Look after the baby. I need to - please just let me do this.” He begs, feeling like he had to do something after you’ve been going through this alone for so long.

Your heart melts and you nod. “Maybe some brownies? And some Mandarin Oranges? Oh, what about some french onion dip?” The more you think about food, the better everything is starting to sound. It’s like all of a sudden you are thinking about things you haven’t eaten in forever. “Potstickers. And cheese.”

Marcus chuckles, quickly adding those things to the list. “Got it. Got it. Yep.” He responds until you are finished and he checks out, selecting the quickest delivery. “Will be here within an hour.” He tells you, kissing your hand again and walks you back out to the sofa. “Press play sweetheart. Let’s relax.”

You’ve spent weeks on this couch, miserable. Moaning and sometimes hanging your head over a trash can while you try to keep the crackers and soup down. Wondering if you just weren’t made for motherhood after you found out why you were so sick. You don’t think Marcus knowing about it is a cure, but you curl into his side and you can’t help but feel more relaxed than you have in nearly two months. You hum, pressing play and tossing the remote next to the two of you before you wind your arm around his stomach and press your head to his shoulder.

Marcus kisses your hair, letting you relax against him until he is shifting away from you to get the groceries when they arrive. He feels at home with you, relaxed and enjoying his time with you. He brings the bags in, starting to unpack it after ordering you to stay put.

It feels so weird to have someone else doing things for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship and even then, you didn’t have him putting up groceries. It’s nice. You pause the movie and grin when he brings out one of your trays loaded down with snacks. “That’s a lot of stuff.” You laugh. “Did I ask for all that?”

Marcus chuckles, “yes you did.” He brings you over the cookies and finishes up putting the groceries away. He sits down with two bottles of water and kisses your forehead again. “You’re pregnant. You get whatever you want, whenever you want.” He promises, nudging his nose against yours before he kisses your cheek.

“Oh I do, do I?” You grin at how ridiculous that sounds and your cheeks head up slightly as you turn to find him still looking at you. “I get what I want, when I want it?” You ask, smiling widely. You want to kiss him again, without any drugs in his system. It would be nice if he remembered it.

Marcus smiles back, glad to see you happy, and he cups your cheek, hoping he’s reading this right, and he prays you don’t slap him. He leans closer, slowly, and he presses his lips to yours, soft and hesitant, afraid you’ll reject him.

This kiss is sweet, hesitant. You sigh softly, eyes sliding closed and you lean into it. Your own hand coming up along his arm and shoulder to hold onto the back of his neck. Moaning softly in protest when he goes to pull away and you tug him closer again.

Marcus doesn’t want to rush anything but his hands slide along your back, pulling you into his lap until you are straddling him. He kisses you slow and deep, not in any rush for this to move to anything else, he’s happy just to kiss despite his cock hardening in his shorts. You are irresistible and to think you are carrying his baby…it’s a lot for him to handle.

You feel him harden under you, thrilled that there is evidence of him wanting you beyond that night. You pull away after several long kisses. “That day- you told me you had always imagined touching me. What it would be like.” You brush his hair back and give him a small shrug. “Was that real or was it the drug talking?”

Marcus shakes his head, “no. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” He caresses your back and kisses your jaw. “We don’t - I don’t expect anything from you tonight. Or anytime soon. Or ever.” He adds, not wanting you to be pressured. He’s not here for sex. He’s here for you. For the baby. “If you give me a minute I can-” He shifts beneath you, not wanting you to be uncomfortable.

You smirk, reaching down and cupping him through the basketball shorts he’s wearing and making him groan. “No wonder you made me ache.” You purr, squeezing him gently. “Apparently the drugs didn’t make your cock bigger, Marcus Pike just has a big dick.”

He blushes, a deep red, at your comment and he chuckles nervously. “You think?” He asks, quiet and unsure as he wants to make sure you aren’t messing with him. Your fingers continue to squeeze him and he groans again, twitching beneath your palm.

Nodding, you slip your hand beneath the waistband of his shorts and underwear. Feeling the hot skin, taunt and stretched over his length. “Yeah I do.” You whisper breathlessly. “Never have to put a gel pack on my vagina after getting fucked before. Just you.”

He feels guilty for leaving you to do that. “Promise I won’t do that again. Next time…if there is a next time, we will go slow. Let me make you cum on my tongue before I am inside of you. Won’t be rough. I want to make you feel good.”

Pressing your thumb to the tip of his cock, you love the way he twitches in your hand. He’s sweet for that, but you don’t want him to be upset. Smearing the bead of precum around the sensitive head of his cock, you disagree. “I think it was because it was two straight hours of fucking, you came three times. And made me cum even more.” You hum, slowly starting to stroke him. His breathing hitches slightly and his fingers dig into your waist. “I don’t mind rough. I like it. But I do want to see what slow looks like with you. Or normal sex.”

He blushes a little more, his cock twitching in your hand and he keeps his eyes on you. “Baby. I- I want you.” He confesses, his fingers caressing your hips as you work his cock. His hands sliding up to cup your breasts through your shirt. “Two hours?” He can’t believe he lasted that long.

“Two hours.” Nodding, you confirm the fact that whatever he had been exposed to had given him the stamina of a God and you learned that you can’t fuck immortals. “I want you too, baby daddy.” You can’t help but tease just slightly, always enjoying being playful in the bedroom and now that the air has been cleared between you and you are feeling slightly human, you want to have fun with him.

“Jesus.” He chuckles nervously, “I- I haven’t - never. Wow. That won’t happen again.” He confesses jokingly. “Can I?” He asks, reaching for the hem of your shirt and you nod, letting go of his cock so he can pull your shirt over your head. He tosses it aside and groans at the sight of your tits, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking softly in case you are sensitive.

“Oh fuck!” Gasping, your fingers dig into his shoulders. You’re sensitive, but not in the painful kind of way. More like the moment he starts sucking, you immediately want more. It’s not dominant and yet it’s perfect. “Oh fuck, Marcus.” You can’t believe this is happening, not expecting the night to go this way. Even still, you aren’t complaining. “Bedroom.” You beg, wanting to have sex there instead of your couch.

Marcus pulls away from you, kissing your jaw, and he shifts you off of his lap. He doesn’t want to carry you in case he drops you, too concerned about the baby, and he takes your hand so you can guide him to your bedroom. “Take me to your room sweetheart, let me touch you.” He wants to go down on you tonight.

You hum, grinning at him as you tug him up off the couch. “This way, baby.” You twist your arm around and start to lead him down the hall to the bedroom, past the guest room that would soon become a nursery. Your bed is unmade, but you don’t care right now, not when you know the two of you are tangling up together in the sheets.

He doesn’t even notice the bed, too busy focusing on you, especially when you are carrying his child. He lays you down on the bed, kneeling in front of you on the bed and he hooks his fingers in your shorts. “Can I?” He asks, wanting you to give him permission.

Marcus is excited, his cock leaking against his basketball shorts as he tosses your shorts and panties over his shoulder after pulling them off. He groans when you automatically spread your thighs, making him hiss when he sees your cunt, and he can’t stop himself from surging forward to slide his tongue through your folds.

Crying out, your eyes close and your fingers sink into his hair. He’s enthusiastic, you can’t deny that. Groaning as you whimper, sighing out at the feeling of his tongue against your clit.

He shifts onto his stomach, curling his fingers around your thighs and he nuzzles his nose through your curls, loving the hair there before he flicks his tongue over your clit again, moaning your name as he sucks it into his mouth.

As intense as that first and only time together was, you prefer this. His tongue is firm, wet. The pressure is amazing as he suckles on your clit and toys with it in the wonderful heat of his mouth. Your thighs try to close, but they can’t, those broad shoulders you had clung to while he was fucking you now keeping you spread wide. You love that he’s taking his time, learning you. “Oh fuck, Marcus.”

He is in no rush, licking into you and savoring you with a firm tongue, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Fuck baby. You taste good.” He says as he pulls back, smacking his lips, and he pushes his tongue deep inside of you with another deep groan. He fucking loves how you taste, how you feel. Tangy and soft.

Subtly grinding your hips down, you beg for more. Obsessed with the way that he seems to be in tune to what you like. Marcus Pike can not only fuck like a God but eat pussy like one too. Your fingers tighten in his hair. “So good, fuck, Marc- your tongue.”

He smirks against your pussy, so glad you are enjoying yourself. He lets go of one thigh, shifting to position his fingers at your entrance, pushing one then two fingers into your cunt, his lips still sucking on your clit expertly while he listens to your moans and figures out what you like.

Whining, you feel him pump his fingers inside you. Curling them up and searching while he continues to lick and suck at you. Waiting until you cry out the loudest and then concentrating on that spot. Making you breathless as he works you closer to cumming. “Oh fuck, more, please baby, make me cum.”

Marcus is determined to make you cum, pushing his fingers deep, curling them and he flicks his tongue over your clit, desperate to make you cry his name. “Cum for me baby.” He orders, burying his face back into your cunt, his fingers still inside of you.

It only takes a few more eager passes of his tongue before you are flying. Your cry of his name is loud enough the neighbors will complain but all you can care about is the way your body shakes as you come apart for him. Thighs pressing against his ears while stars burst behind your eyes.

Marcus almost suffocates in your thighs but he doesn’t give a shit. The way you cry out his name makes him nearly cum himself but he fucking loves it. Working you through it, he laps at your clit until you push his head away and he sighs, kissing your thighs before he rests his chin on your thigh, looking up at you in awe. The mother of his child. God, it’s perfect.

Chest heaving you try to catch your breath, that delicious tingle of pleasure humming through your body. You let go of his hair gently. “Take off your pants baby. I want you inside me.” You beg, wanting to feel him inside you again, hopefully without having to lay in bed with a sore pussy all day tomorrow. Marcus will more than likely be extra careful with you because of the baby.

Marcus nods, shifting off of the bed to push his shorts down, his hard cock bouncing as he kicks them away and he pulls his shirt off. “Gonna take care of you.” He promises, shifting to kneel between your legs and he caresses your thighs as he reaches down to grip his cock, positioning it at your entrance and slowly, so slowly pushing into you with his eyes fixed on yours.

The first time he had pushed inside you had been frantic, hurried. This time was nearly torturous with how slow he sinks into you. Inch by inch you feel your walls stretch to accommodate him. Pulling the low, lengthy moan out of you while he fills you up. Your hands on his shoulders try to pull him closer but he is steady, mouth dropping open when your muscles contract but he doesn’t move any faster. “Maaaarcuuuuus.” You whimper, groaning in relief when he is buried to the hilt.

Your whimper has his cock twitching and he hisses when you grip his cock in your walls, so wet and velvety and tight. It’s heaven. “Shit.” He hisses, leaning in to kiss your chin and along your jaw as he gives you a moment to adjust before he rocks his hips, wanting to be slow and unhurried.

You were right to think that his pace would be slow. The muscles in his arms flex and twitch as he holds himself over you, slowly working his cock in and out, giving you the best view in the world as he looks down at you. Your hands roam over his back, sides, down to grip his ass and you urge him to come closer. “You won’t hurt the baby.” You promise.

He is worried about that but knows you wouldn’t risk it so he pushes deeper, his hips flush against yours on every thrust, his lips pressed against your chest and neck. “God, you feel so good. How the hell did I forget about this?” He scoffs breathlessly.

Moaning quietly, you turn your head to kiss his jaw. “I don’t know.” You lick along the hollow of his throat and bite down on his chin. “I didn’t. Even when I was mad, I still touched myself thinking about how you fucked me. How deep you got and how hard you went.”

Marcus rocks into you, caressing your cheek as he shifts his weight onto one arm before he slides his hand down to squeeze your breast. “I- fuck- I don’t think I’m capable of that again.” He chuckles breathlessly. “You are - you’re so good. Gonna be so gorgeous full of my baby.” He groans, kissing along your neck.

You giggle quietly, “I’m already full of your baby.” You remind him. “You made sure that you filled me up properly.” You lift your legs higher on his thighs and lock them together around his waist. “Good- good thing you like me. Since a baby is a very permanent connection.”

He chuckles breathlessly, “good. I want permanent. Always have.” He admits, reaching back to grip your thigh. “I meant - I meant seeing you round, with a bump.” His hand comes up to caress your lower stomach.

You hum and give him a small grin. “Does someone have a thing for pregnant women?” You coo playfully. “Or just a woman who is pregnant with your baby.”

“Just the woman who is pregnant with my baby.” He quips with a smirk, playfully leaning closer to nip your jaw. “I am pretty glad it’s you. I’ve always wanted you. Always thought you were the most beautiful woman inside the office.”

You sigh happily at the comment. “I always had a thing for my boss.” You confess with a smile. “He’s handsome, kind, and thoughtful. And I always imagined he would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You moan when he hits the right spot inside you and you clench around him.

Marcus blushes, loving the way you clench around him. “You want that? Me to be your boyfriend? I want that. I want you.” He kisses your jaw. “I want you to be mine.” He confesses, “I - it would be too easy to fall for you.”

You can help but give a laugh as he rocks into you, reaching up to his jaw and cradling it, guiding it back to your mouth for another kiss. “Yes, father of my baby, I want you to be my boyfriend.” You whisper. “It would be too easy to fall for you.” You repeat back to him with a giggle. “We did things out of order.”

Marcus snorts, “who said anything has to be in order?” You nod and he kisses you, shifting his weight so he can push deeper inside of you. “Boyfriend.” He declares, “you’re mine and I’m yours.” He promises, kissing you again.

Your breath catches and all you can do is hold on, eyes closing while your mouth is pressed to his. Breathing your moans into his mouth with every thrust and your walls start to flutter even though the pace isn’t nearly as frantic as it was that first time. “Gonna cum,” you warn breathlessly. “Oh fuck, baby!” You squeal when he snaps his hips forward, walls clenching down around him and a rush of your cum soaks his cock.

The way your walls grip him has him clenching his jaw and he’s so close himself but he needs you to cum one more time. He pulls out of you, making you whine, and shifts to lay down next to you. “Ride me sweetheart. Want you to cum one more time.” He orders, giving himself a moment and when you straddle him, he reaches up to squeeze your tits.

You moan when you sink back down on him, feeling him deep inside your walls and grinding your hips. “Fuck baby.” Your hands are propped on his chest and you give an experimental squeeze from this position. “You seem to always want me to cum multiple times.”

“Jesus.” Marcus hisses when you squeeze him within your walls. “Just - just being a good boyfriend. Plus I like to watch you cum.” He admits, thrusting up into you when he grabs your hips to help you grind on his cock.

The coarse hair at the base of his cock grinds against your clit and makes you gasp out loudly, hips jerking in his grip. “Oh fuck.” You bite your lip and lean down so you can press your lips to his. “Want to feel you cum again.” You whimper, shuddering at the angle and so very close to cumming again now that you are getting stimulation against your clit.

Your whimpers have him grabbing your ass, keeping you still so he can thrust up into you. “Cum for me baby. One more time then I’ll fuck you.” He promises, panting as your juices just soak his balls, telling him how close you are. “Please baby. Cum.” He pleads, desperate for you to cum so he can.

Gasping out his name, you fall headlong into your orgasm. Body stiffening on top of him, you can’t do anything but shake through your pleasure as you collapse down on his chest.

Marcus can’t hold back anymore, thrusting deep despite how tight you’re gripping him and he pushes deep inside of you a few thrusts later. A strangled groan escapes his lips as he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed and he hisses your name as he rides his orgasm.

You whine at the feeling of his cum inside you again. Turning your head from his shoulder so you can kiss him softly. “God baby.” You murmur. “So good, fuck that feels so good.” You reach up and brush his hair back and smile at him softly.

Marcus closes his eyes, just enjoying how good it feels to have you around him, surrounding him, and he sends a thanks to God for you being in his life, for you carrying his child. “I want you to move in with me.” He murmurs, stroking your back as you stay on top of him.

You’re shocked, but then again, you’re not. Not with you carrying his baby. It’s just the type of thing Marcus would insist on. “Depends on if your place is nicer than mine.” You tease, leaning in and kissing his lips again. “If mine’s better, you can move in with me.”

“Wherever you want. Mine or yours. I’ll move in with you, or you can move in with me. I just want to be with you. I want to create a home together. Or we can find somewhere else. Together.” He tells you, caressing your cheek. “I just want to spend every night with you.”

You grin down at him. “It’s going to be fun watching you eat your words when I’m hugely pregnant and moody and you’re going to the store at 2 AM to get ice cream.” You tease, honestly impressed with his willingness to jump in headfirst.

Marcus chuckles, “I promise you, I won’t ever be annoyed. I’ll probably eat ice cream with you. I just - this is all I’ve ever wanted. A family. You’ve given that to me and I can never thank you enough. I am all in, baby. All in.” He promises, kissing you again.

****

“I’ve changed my mind!” You shout, your grip on the railing of the bed like iron and you know your other hand is crushing Marcus’s but you can’t care right now. All you can do is grit your teeth together on a scream as another harsh contraction rolls through your body like a freight train. “I don’t want to have the baby today. I don’t want to have the baby at all!”

Marcus winces as you squeeze his hand. “Baby. Baby. Listen to me.” Marcus wipes your forehead with his free hand. “You’ve got this. You can do it. You’re so strong. So fucking incredible. I love you. I love you so much. You can do this.” He promises, kissing your sweaty forehead but he doesn’t give a damn. You are so strong and he knows you can do this.

“No I can’t.” You whine, flopping back against the bed after the pain has passed, panting. You had woken him up at 2 AM like you had threatened so many months ago, but it was because your water had broken. Telling him that you needed to go to the hospital. Hours later, the sun is up and the doctor is telling you that it’s time to deliver your baby. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Marcus. I promised you a baby, but I’m not doing this.” It’s dramatic but you can’t help it right now.

“You can do this. Baby. You got this. Just gotta breathe and push and I have the best push present for you.” He promises, kissing your forehead. “Come on, sweetheart. You got this. It’s time to meet our baby. You’re gonna be such a good mama.” He looks at you, knowing you have no choice but he wants to support you.

“I love you.” You whimper, grateful when he grabs the ice chips and slips one into your mouth. He’s been a perfect partner, supporting you since he found out on Halloween that you were pregnant. “Fuck!” You hiss, feeling the next contraction starting.

“Come on honey.” He eggs you on and he hisses through his teeth when you squeeze his hand even harder. You squeal, almost sobbing as you bear down, and Marcus exhales when your grip loosens but his heart thumps when the doctor tells you the head is out. Marcus leans over, inhaling deeply and the nurse guides your hand to touch the head. “There’s your baby. Keep pushing and they will be out soon.” She promises you.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, tears starting to stream as the next urge to push hits you. Marcus still holds your hand, his other one pushing one of your legs back like the doctor instructed and he’s watching you push the baby out of your body. Gritting your teeth, you bear down with all your might, screaming as the baby slips from your body and into the doctor’s waiting hands.

Marcus chokes on a sob when the baby begins to cry, the doctor cleaning the baby up before he announces, “you have a girl.”

You and Marcus had agreed to keep the sex a surprise and Marcus sobs, “we have a girl. A baby girl.” He leans down to kiss your forehead before the nurse brings the baby over to you.

“Daddy. You want to cut the cord?” The doctor asks and Marcus nods, following instructions and tears streaming down his cheeks until he returns to your side to get a good look at his daughter.

“She’s so beautiful.” You sob, looking at her in wonder as she cries and squirms in your arms, obviously annoyed with being evicted from her cozy little home in your womb. You check her fingers and toes and coo over every little part of her. “She’s perfect.” You whisper, looking up at Marcus. “We have a perfect little girl.”

Marcus kisses your hair, tears still falling and he reaches out to caress the baby’s head, in awe of the life you created together because of that drug. “Marry me.” He requests, unable to keep from asking you a moment longer. He has loved you since the day you moved into his place. He will love you until the day he dies. He knows this as fact so for you to not be his wife seems absurd.

Eyes widening in shock, you gasp. “Marcus-“ the baby settles against your chest and coos softly, making you look down at her. “Baby, I-“ his tearful eyes look at you with such love and adoration you know he’s thought this out. “Yes.” You whisper, reaching up and covering his hand with yours. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He grins, “I have the ring with me.” He shifts to his overnight bag, grabbing the velvet box and he fumbles with shaking hands to take the ring out, reaching for your hand to slide it onto your finger. “I love you.” He declares, kissing you softly while the baby latches onto your nipple after the nurses clap their congratulations.

You can’t help but cry, tears sliding down your cheeks as you kiss him again and again. “I love you, I love you so much.” You break the kiss off and look down at your daughter as she makes frantic noises as she starts to try to suckle. “I love our daughter, that she’s ours.” You murmur softly.

“You and her…you’re my world. I’d do anything for you both. Our family. I never - I never thought I’d get to have this but - thank you. Thank you baby.” He murmurs, caressing his daughters back and he swallows the lump in his throat. That one incident in the street has led to Marcus having everything he’s ever wanted.

Eight months ago, he wanted to slap those kids for making him forget he fucked you, but now…he wants to hug them because, although you had an unconventional start, Marcus knows you’re gonna have an amazing life together. From coworkers to lovers to husband and wife. Marcus couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

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