Secret Snowflake- likelike_love
Title: Playing games
Author: scifidvm
Written/Drawn/Created For: likelike_love
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall, cameo by the Fleigler 2000
Rating: M there’s sex… but it’s on a level I’d call smut-lite
Prompt/Summary/Spoilers/Warnings: Prompt #2: (WITSEC) office game night
A/N:There’s something about the glow of the Christmas lights on the house, the twinkle of the lights on the tree, the dogs playing in a pile of wrapping paper, the smell of hot chocolate and the ham baking in the oven that really makes it feel like Christmas… and makes me feel like trying to write smut for the first time… Totally appropriate, right? And Eleanor is here too. She never left. It’s like a Christmas miracle, let’s accept it and roll with it.
…___...___...___...
It was time for her to do something, time to shit or get off the pot. Though she was worried that after his confession, he may think anything she said or did would be out of pity. Her gaze shifted to the box she had left on the kitchen counter. Twister. She had an idea. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he traced her gaze with his eyes.
“You can’t be serious.”
“But I can.” There was an air of challenge in her voice.
“I have a foot externally coapted and I am under the influence of narcotic analgesics. This is a very inequitable challenge that you have presented me.”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“My foot’s in a cast, I’m stoned, and you are way more bendy than I am. No fair.”
“Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”
“Stoned, remember?” She had to admit, he did seem a little bit more loopy than normal.
“Fine. Then let’s level the playing field.” She walked to the kitchen and picked up the bottle of tequila she had left their earlier. Before he could stop her she twisted off the lid, held the bottle to her mouth, and took three deep swallows of the gold liquid.
“This is so not going to end well.” Marshall muttered to himself as she took another swig and brought the game into the living room. He remained unmoving on the couch as she pushed the coffee table out of the way and spread the mat on the floor. It wasn’t until he actually saw the spotted vinyl tarp that he fully remembered the amount of bodily contact required for this game. What was she thinking?
“College rules?”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what, pray tell, are ‘college rules’?”
“Jesus Marshall, you never played strip Twister in college?”
“Strip Twister?” he gulped. At least now he knew what she was thinking…
“Yeah, Virgin of Guadalupe, every time you fall you lose a piece of clothing.”
He took a mental inventory: T shirt, sweat pants, boxers, one sock. Not likely to end well, indeed. “Do socks count?” They were the only words that somehow managed to find their way out of his mouth.
“Sure, so does your chastity belt. Now cowboy up and get your ass on the mat.”
The tequila was starting to make it to Mary’s brain at this point, giving her the courage to continue on with her ill-conceived plan. She tossed the spinner over by the mat and rolled up the legs of her jeans to unzip the boots she was wearing. Marshall appeared incredibly tense, sitting on the couch. Though he did seem slightly distracted by the act of her propping each foot on the coffee table and unzipping the knee high boots that had been mostly hidden under her jeans. She couldn’t help but to smile at the sight of him staring at her.
Marshall knew he was staring, knew she probably noticed, and knew she would likely maim him as a result, but he couldn’t help himself. She had her foot propped on the coffee table and was peeling a tall pair of leather boots off of her exquisitely shaped calves. When she was done she tossed the boots aside and leaned towards him. Then she abruptly grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up off the couch. The momentum of it nearly slammed him into her. He reached out and stopped himself with a hand on her shoulder. They stood there momentarily, bodies mere inches apart.
She could feel the heat of his body from the proximity. Muscles in his legs and torso shifted slightly to help him regain his balance, and it was as if she could feel a ripple of air from each minute movement. She let go of his t-shirt and dropped her hand. Next she abruptly leaned down and spun the spinner. The arrow stopped at right hand on green. He gulped. She leaned forward and placed her right hand on a green dot and he followed suit. They had their hands placed on the dots as far apart as possible on the mat. Marshall stretched over and flicked the plastic arrow. Left foot blue. Mary managed to get her foot on the blue dot in the same top row as the green dot her hand was on. Marshall’s body and appendages were simply too long to contort in the same way, so he ended up cattycornered with his foot on the blue dot next to the one Mary was using. So far so good. Mary spun the device and got right foot yellow. She quickly twisted her body so that her right foot sat easily on the yellow dot directly between her hand and other foot. It put her in a crouched position facing Marshall. He attempted to twist his cast laden foot under his left leg and very quickly lost his balance and footing. He face planted onto the mat.
Mary clapped her hands together excitedly. “Take it off, cowboy.” She smiled. He took off his sock and flicked it at her. She made a disgusted face and they both smiled. Marshall realized that so far, this wasn’t going so badly. Maybe he would escape unscathed after all. He re-positioned himself on the mat, this time with his limbs on the colored dots that better supported his weight. His spin - right foot green. They both unintentionally went for the same spot. The contact caught them both off guard and they recoiled. Both ended up on their asses. Marshall realized that maybe this wasn’t going so well after all.
Mary stripped off her socks. Marshall shyly pulled off his t-shirt and realized how unfair this game was, as Mary still had on a sweater over a shirt, jeans, and presumably underwear and a bra. Just two more tumbles and he’d be completely naked. It was time to go on the offensive.
Her breath hitched as Marshall pulled the white shirt over his head. He always stayed in shape. He had the body of a runner, lean and defined. It wasn’t the beefy brawn that she usually went for, but it was just as attractive in its own right. The bashfulness in his demeanor after removing the article of clothing really sold it though . There was nothing for him to be ashamed of regarding his physique, yet for some reason he seemed nervous about it. Normally Mary would have found timid to be a giant turn-off in a man she was attempting to divest of clothes, but this was Marshall. In this one case, she found it rather endearing. But now, something had changed. They returned to the positions on the mat, yet Marshall now took the spots right next to her. If she needed to reach for another spot, she would be going over or under him. The next spine forced just a scenario. She snaked a leg between his to get her left foot to a red spot. The back of her thigh brushed against the front of his, and she couldn’t ignore the reflexive tightening of the muscles in her abdomen and gluts. Even through the material of his sweatpants, she could feel the defined muscle groups of his quadriceps and the little contractions they made against her leg as he steadied himself. He reached to spin the arrow and his announcement of “left hand yellow” was whispered breathily against her neck. Her knees gave out before she even tried to move and she found herself flush against the mat, with him still towering over her.
Two could play at this game. She pulled off the lightweight sweater she had been wearing, leaving only the low cut, dusty rose colored tank top she had worn underneath. Marshall didn’t change his position any, but as Mary returned to the mat, this time she somehow worked it that each appendage was on the appropriately colored spot, but she was facing upwards. Two spins and some devious positioning on both their parts suddenly found Marshall on top of her, chests pressed against each other. On the next spin she snaked a leg out from under them, directly between his. Their bodies were pressed together from thigh to shoulder now.
Getting to this point had been nothing short of erotic to either of them. Marshall realized that his remaining clothing left little means of hiding his… enjoyment of the situation, and he decided to not even try. This had been her idea, after all.
There was no ignoring the bulge that was pressing against Mary’s inner thigh as she shifted to maintain her balance. With only the scant clothing between their torsos, she could feel the outline of every one of his abdominal muscles. The point of his hip bone was nestled into the hollow just inside hers. Thankfully her face was buried in his shoulder. She had an idea what she would see if she looked him in the face at this moment, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to handle that. Even though the position was somewhat awkward, their bodies fit together as well as their wit and personalities. No one had ever fit into her life as well as Marshall, she wondered what had ever made her think that their bodies would be any different.
Marshall shifted against her to reach the spinner. The intimate contact of his erection rubbing up and down her thigh made her reflexively press her pelvis into him. The position had been precarious to begin with. Between the movement and the increased pressure of her body against his, he momentarily lost his concentration. The casted foot lost its grip and slipped out from under him. His weight fell on top of Mary. The crab-like position she was in had been tenuous at best. With the added weight of Marshall’s body her arms gave out and the both crashed to the floor. She was flat on her back and he was on top of her.
“Are you okay?” They both questioned at the same time. Concern for the other’s well-being outweighed all other thoughts for the moment. Both were unharmed by the fall. Between the tequila, Vicodan, and built up sexual tension, it took another moment before their current position registered and Marshall began to giggle.
“What’s so funny, Nitwit?” She couldn’t help but slightly laugh in response.
“Look at us. We are decorated U.S. Marshals. And we’re on the floor playing strip Twister.” He propped himself up on his elbows and continued giggling again until Mary’s next action stopped him.
She had sobered, and looking him straight in the eyes. She licked her lips and silently used the space he’d given her by resting on his elbows to pull off her shirt.
“What are you…”
“Like you said, we’re on the floor playing strip Twister.” There was a fiendish glint in her eyes.
She was wearing a plain black satin bra that held her breasts together in a way that Marshall found himself almost unable to take his eyes from. He felt his hands moving towards them of their own volition and he forced himself to look up at her face. She was chewing nervously at her bottom lip, rolling it back and forth between her teeth anxiously, seductively. He felt her thumbs hook into the top of the waistband of his sweatpants and start to apply downward pressure. His eyes shut reflexively and a small sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper escaped his throat.
“Mary.” He panted and forced his eyes open. “I can’t… I… I’m done playing games with you.”
“Good. I am too.” She leaned forward and kissed him. Her hands slowly slid from his waist up his body to cup his face. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up to her body. As soon as he did, it was like an explosion of lips and tongues and teeth. They kissed like they were using up the last breath they would ever take. It was emotional, sensual, erotic, and lustful all rolled into one. The kiss lasted until they absolutely had to come up for air and ended with Mary raking his bottom lip gently through her teeth. They panted for a while, neither able to speak.
“Mare…” He was terrified, terrified that this meant something completely different to her than it did to him.
“Don’t worry. You heard me. I said no more games.”
“But what happened? What… Why?”
“I guess I’ve always known that what’s between us is special. I just finally realized that missing out on what could be there is worse than worrying what might happen if it doesn’t work.”
“And all this time, all I had to do was stick my foot in a stapler?”
She shoved his shoulder. Then she leaned forward and kissed him again. Her hands were back on the waistband of his sweats before he realized it. As she began pulling on them he stopped her again.
“Seriously? Talking time is over.” She was getting frustrated.
“I couldn’t agree more. But I don’t want to do this here, like this.” He responded.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got some romantic schmoop planned out for this that you’ve been fantasizing about for years. I don’t know if I could deal with that.”
“Does my broken foot and temperamental back preferring a bed over a spotted tarp on my living room floor count as schmoop?”
“Practicality I can deal with.” She smiled and pushed him off of her.
They were in the bedroom before they knew how they had gotten there. They were wrapped around each other, mouths and hands everywhere. Her jeans were off before they hit the bed. His pants were pushed off as he climbed in after her. Underwear was stripped in short order. Hands explored each other intensely but briefly. There had been essentially seven years of foreplay between them, so neither needed much before they were near the point of exploding. They rolled around a bit, jockeying for position, before Mary pinned him on his back and straddled him. The weight of her sitting on his lap was intoxicating. She leaned back and one of his hands cupped her buttocks while the other traced up to her breasts. She had one hand tangled in his hair and the other splayed on his chest. They shared one long look into each other’s eyes before she shifted and lowered herself onto him. Their bodies moved together in tune, in a way that only two people that had worked together for years could. Slower thrusts at first, the intensity building quickly. They switched position to prolong the experience. All the experience they had working together, reading each other’s signals, interacting seamlessly all translated to the bed. All too soon Mary found herself climaxing. Her body’s contractions sent him over the edge and he went over the edge with her.
He collapsed on top of her, but quickly rolled to his side. He knew Mary was not into cuddling and pinning her beneath him would likely make her feel the need to bolt. He gave her her space, but kept as much contact as she would allow.
Normally she didn’t allow the men that shared her bed to hold her after they had performed their function, but again Marshall was different. Maybe it was because she didn’t view this sex as some service to be completed, but just a part of their whole relationship. Regardless, she was quite content with him snuggled against her side. She kissed him one more time and smiled, “Now that’s a game I wouldn’t mind playing again.” They both smiled and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
Author: scifidvm
Written/Drawn/Created For: likelike_love
Pairings/Characters: Mary/Marshall, cameo by the Fleigler 2000
Rating: M there’s sex… but it’s on a level I’d call smut-lite
Prompt/Summary/Spoilers/Warnings: Prompt #2: (WITSEC) office game night
A/N:There’s something about the glow of the Christmas lights on the house, the twinkle of the lights on the tree, the dogs playing in a pile of wrapping paper, the smell of hot chocolate and the ham baking in the oven that really makes it feel like Christmas… and makes me feel like trying to write smut for the first time… Totally appropriate, right? And Eleanor is here too. She never left. It’s like a Christmas miracle, let’s accept it and roll with it.
…___...___...___...
It was time for her to do something, time to shit or get off the pot. Though she was worried that after his confession, he may think anything she said or did would be out of pity. Her gaze shifted to the box she had left on the kitchen counter. Twister. She had an idea. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he traced her gaze with his eyes.
“You can’t be serious.”
“But I can.” There was an air of challenge in her voice.
“I have a foot externally coapted and I am under the influence of narcotic analgesics. This is a very inequitable challenge that you have presented me.”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“My foot’s in a cast, I’m stoned, and you are way more bendy than I am. No fair.”
“Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”
“Stoned, remember?” She had to admit, he did seem a little bit more loopy than normal.
“Fine. Then let’s level the playing field.” She walked to the kitchen and picked up the bottle of tequila she had left their earlier. Before he could stop her she twisted off the lid, held the bottle to her mouth, and took three deep swallows of the gold liquid.
“This is so not going to end well.” Marshall muttered to himself as she took another swig and brought the game into the living room. He remained unmoving on the couch as she pushed the coffee table out of the way and spread the mat on the floor. It wasn’t until he actually saw the spotted vinyl tarp that he fully remembered the amount of bodily contact required for this game. What was she thinking?
“College rules?”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what, pray tell, are ‘college rules’?”
“Jesus Marshall, you never played strip Twister in college?”
“Strip Twister?” he gulped. At least now he knew what she was thinking…
“Yeah, Virgin of Guadalupe, every time you fall you lose a piece of clothing.”
He took a mental inventory: T shirt, sweat pants, boxers, one sock. Not likely to end well, indeed. “Do socks count?” They were the only words that somehow managed to find their way out of his mouth.
“Sure, so does your chastity belt. Now cowboy up and get your ass on the mat.”
The tequila was starting to make it to Mary’s brain at this point, giving her the courage to continue on with her ill-conceived plan. She tossed the spinner over by the mat and rolled up the legs of her jeans to unzip the boots she was wearing. Marshall appeared incredibly tense, sitting on the couch. Though he did seem slightly distracted by the act of her propping each foot on the coffee table and unzipping the knee high boots that had been mostly hidden under her jeans. She couldn’t help but to smile at the sight of him staring at her.
Marshall knew he was staring, knew she probably noticed, and knew she would likely maim him as a result, but he couldn’t help himself. She had her foot propped on the coffee table and was peeling a tall pair of leather boots off of her exquisitely shaped calves. When she was done she tossed the boots aside and leaned towards him. Then she abruptly grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up off the couch. The momentum of it nearly slammed him into her. He reached out and stopped himself with a hand on her shoulder. They stood there momentarily, bodies mere inches apart.
She could feel the heat of his body from the proximity. Muscles in his legs and torso shifted slightly to help him regain his balance, and it was as if she could feel a ripple of air from each minute movement. She let go of his t-shirt and dropped her hand. Next she abruptly leaned down and spun the spinner. The arrow stopped at right hand on green. He gulped. She leaned forward and placed her right hand on a green dot and he followed suit. They had their hands placed on the dots as far apart as possible on the mat. Marshall stretched over and flicked the plastic arrow. Left foot blue. Mary managed to get her foot on the blue dot in the same top row as the green dot her hand was on. Marshall’s body and appendages were simply too long to contort in the same way, so he ended up cattycornered with his foot on the blue dot next to the one Mary was using. So far so good. Mary spun the device and got right foot yellow. She quickly twisted her body so that her right foot sat easily on the yellow dot directly between her hand and other foot. It put her in a crouched position facing Marshall. He attempted to twist his cast laden foot under his left leg and very quickly lost his balance and footing. He face planted onto the mat.
Mary clapped her hands together excitedly. “Take it off, cowboy.” She smiled. He took off his sock and flicked it at her. She made a disgusted face and they both smiled. Marshall realized that so far, this wasn’t going so badly. Maybe he would escape unscathed after all. He re-positioned himself on the mat, this time with his limbs on the colored dots that better supported his weight. His spin - right foot green. They both unintentionally went for the same spot. The contact caught them both off guard and they recoiled. Both ended up on their asses. Marshall realized that maybe this wasn’t going so well after all.
Mary stripped off her socks. Marshall shyly pulled off his t-shirt and realized how unfair this game was, as Mary still had on a sweater over a shirt, jeans, and presumably underwear and a bra. Just two more tumbles and he’d be completely naked. It was time to go on the offensive.
Her breath hitched as Marshall pulled the white shirt over his head. He always stayed in shape. He had the body of a runner, lean and defined. It wasn’t the beefy brawn that she usually went for, but it was just as attractive in its own right. The bashfulness in his demeanor after removing the article of clothing really sold it though . There was nothing for him to be ashamed of regarding his physique, yet for some reason he seemed nervous about it. Normally Mary would have found timid to be a giant turn-off in a man she was attempting to divest of clothes, but this was Marshall. In this one case, she found it rather endearing. But now, something had changed. They returned to the positions on the mat, yet Marshall now took the spots right next to her. If she needed to reach for another spot, she would be going over or under him. The next spine forced just a scenario. She snaked a leg between his to get her left foot to a red spot. The back of her thigh brushed against the front of his, and she couldn’t ignore the reflexive tightening of the muscles in her abdomen and gluts. Even through the material of his sweatpants, she could feel the defined muscle groups of his quadriceps and the little contractions they made against her leg as he steadied himself. He reached to spin the arrow and his announcement of “left hand yellow” was whispered breathily against her neck. Her knees gave out before she even tried to move and she found herself flush against the mat, with him still towering over her.
Two could play at this game. She pulled off the lightweight sweater she had been wearing, leaving only the low cut, dusty rose colored tank top she had worn underneath. Marshall didn’t change his position any, but as Mary returned to the mat, this time she somehow worked it that each appendage was on the appropriately colored spot, but she was facing upwards. Two spins and some devious positioning on both their parts suddenly found Marshall on top of her, chests pressed against each other. On the next spin she snaked a leg out from under them, directly between his. Their bodies were pressed together from thigh to shoulder now.
Getting to this point had been nothing short of erotic to either of them. Marshall realized that his remaining clothing left little means of hiding his… enjoyment of the situation, and he decided to not even try. This had been her idea, after all.
There was no ignoring the bulge that was pressing against Mary’s inner thigh as she shifted to maintain her balance. With only the scant clothing between their torsos, she could feel the outline of every one of his abdominal muscles. The point of his hip bone was nestled into the hollow just inside hers. Thankfully her face was buried in his shoulder. She had an idea what she would see if she looked him in the face at this moment, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to handle that. Even though the position was somewhat awkward, their bodies fit together as well as their wit and personalities. No one had ever fit into her life as well as Marshall, she wondered what had ever made her think that their bodies would be any different.
Marshall shifted against her to reach the spinner. The intimate contact of his erection rubbing up and down her thigh made her reflexively press her pelvis into him. The position had been precarious to begin with. Between the movement and the increased pressure of her body against his, he momentarily lost his concentration. The casted foot lost its grip and slipped out from under him. His weight fell on top of Mary. The crab-like position she was in had been tenuous at best. With the added weight of Marshall’s body her arms gave out and the both crashed to the floor. She was flat on her back and he was on top of her.
“Are you okay?” They both questioned at the same time. Concern for the other’s well-being outweighed all other thoughts for the moment. Both were unharmed by the fall. Between the tequila, Vicodan, and built up sexual tension, it took another moment before their current position registered and Marshall began to giggle.
“What’s so funny, Nitwit?” She couldn’t help but slightly laugh in response.
“Look at us. We are decorated U.S. Marshals. And we’re on the floor playing strip Twister.” He propped himself up on his elbows and continued giggling again until Mary’s next action stopped him.
She had sobered, and looking him straight in the eyes. She licked her lips and silently used the space he’d given her by resting on his elbows to pull off her shirt.
“What are you…”
“Like you said, we’re on the floor playing strip Twister.” There was a fiendish glint in her eyes.
She was wearing a plain black satin bra that held her breasts together in a way that Marshall found himself almost unable to take his eyes from. He felt his hands moving towards them of their own volition and he forced himself to look up at her face. She was chewing nervously at her bottom lip, rolling it back and forth between her teeth anxiously, seductively. He felt her thumbs hook into the top of the waistband of his sweatpants and start to apply downward pressure. His eyes shut reflexively and a small sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper escaped his throat.
“Mary.” He panted and forced his eyes open. “I can’t… I… I’m done playing games with you.”
“Good. I am too.” She leaned forward and kissed him. Her hands slowly slid from his waist up his body to cup his face. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up to her body. As soon as he did, it was like an explosion of lips and tongues and teeth. They kissed like they were using up the last breath they would ever take. It was emotional, sensual, erotic, and lustful all rolled into one. The kiss lasted until they absolutely had to come up for air and ended with Mary raking his bottom lip gently through her teeth. They panted for a while, neither able to speak.
“Mare…” He was terrified, terrified that this meant something completely different to her than it did to him.
“Don’t worry. You heard me. I said no more games.”
“But what happened? What… Why?”
“I guess I’ve always known that what’s between us is special. I just finally realized that missing out on what could be there is worse than worrying what might happen if it doesn’t work.”
“And all this time, all I had to do was stick my foot in a stapler?”
She shoved his shoulder. Then she leaned forward and kissed him again. Her hands were back on the waistband of his sweats before he realized it. As she began pulling on them he stopped her again.
“Seriously? Talking time is over.” She was getting frustrated.
“I couldn’t agree more. But I don’t want to do this here, like this.” He responded.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got some romantic schmoop planned out for this that you’ve been fantasizing about for years. I don’t know if I could deal with that.”
“Does my broken foot and temperamental back preferring a bed over a spotted tarp on my living room floor count as schmoop?”
“Practicality I can deal with.” She smiled and pushed him off of her.
They were in the bedroom before they knew how they had gotten there. They were wrapped around each other, mouths and hands everywhere. Her jeans were off before they hit the bed. His pants were pushed off as he climbed in after her. Underwear was stripped in short order. Hands explored each other intensely but briefly. There had been essentially seven years of foreplay between them, so neither needed much before they were near the point of exploding. They rolled around a bit, jockeying for position, before Mary pinned him on his back and straddled him. The weight of her sitting on his lap was intoxicating. She leaned back and one of his hands cupped her buttocks while the other traced up to her breasts. She had one hand tangled in his hair and the other splayed on his chest. They shared one long look into each other’s eyes before she shifted and lowered herself onto him. Their bodies moved together in tune, in a way that only two people that had worked together for years could. Slower thrusts at first, the intensity building quickly. They switched position to prolong the experience. All the experience they had working together, reading each other’s signals, interacting seamlessly all translated to the bed. All too soon Mary found herself climaxing. Her body’s contractions sent him over the edge and he went over the edge with her.
He collapsed on top of her, but quickly rolled to his side. He knew Mary was not into cuddling and pinning her beneath him would likely make her feel the need to bolt. He gave her her space, but kept as much contact as she would allow.
Normally she didn’t allow the men that shared her bed to hold her after they had performed their function, but again Marshall was different. Maybe it was because she didn’t view this sex as some service to be completed, but just a part of their whole relationship. Regardless, she was quite content with him snuggled against her side. She kissed him one more time and smiled, “Now that’s a game I wouldn’t mind playing again.” They both smiled and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.