Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Marshall Mathers. The esteemed Slim shady. the man every woman wanted to be with and the man every male envied.
Marshall was quite aware of the way people perceived him. Trailer trash. The no good white boy rapper that said rude things and had an even ruder attitude. But he could care less. If it weren't for the fame and the constant attention/criticisms, he might not be rich. Rich. As in own more then ten pairs or Jordans, and a few cars. But being rich didn't mean he was happy.
He was not, by a long shot. The privacy meant to keep him safe was the same quiet looming feeling any time he sat at home. His kids now grown up and not needing him anymore was salt to an already achy wound. Marshall had expected this, in all honesty he knew that one day he'd be left alone the same away he was brought into this world.
Marshall always thought that after his ex wife Kim, he would never be able to love again. At least not in the toxic way that Kim and his relationship was. God. the constant jealousy and abuse in that relationship left him more then tired when the divorce was finalized. But he'd be lying if he said he didnt miss her, well not her but the unconditional love in their twisted love. But did he hate Kim. Probably more then he hated his own father for abandoning his mother in her time of need.
Despite the pesky remarks in his songs about women and the rumors of him and his escapades, he respected women. Having a single mother, even with her problems, raised him to believe that if anything, women are stronger then men. Emotionally, because even when shit was bad his mother still did her damn hardest and powered through to do her best. and he knew. that he himself was no better then his mother, even if he might resent her choices and actions.
No, Marshall was no fucking saint. And he himself knew that, but must God or whoever the fuck chose fates, really make his life this fucking horrible? This life was a lame excuse for a 'better' one from his past. Granted he had money. and that's all he ever worked for. He paid for Haliee Jades wedding. in full. And he was fucking proud of that, of spoiling his little girl on her big day. Still. When were things supposed to get better. When was he supposed to become happy, content with his life of longing and endless cash flow. When.. Was he supposed to find..happiness..

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Amelia Ryan was definitely the blacksheep, not just of her family but seemingly society. If that wasn't bad on its own, she had an attitude, one not easily controlled nor one to easy deflate.

As a child Lia was alone alot of the time. it was easier to ignore her then to try and understand her. Unlike her siblings she was quiet and reserved, not really shy, she was just cautious. About who was around her, what they might want, so on and so forth.

Her sisters were loud and always so damn demanding, whiny brats that just pissed her off to be around. So she did what anyone else was bound to do in her position. Amelia distanced herself, from her siblings, her parents, anyone that tried to be close to her.

She lost her friends, her close family, she became excluded, all because people found her harsh, found her attitudes to be a pain in the ass and her mouth even harder to handle when she got going.

That didn't stop her. She did well enough in school. Graduated highschool early and then, by 19 she was at home, playing video games all day and not really promising to do anything.

By 22 she was a drinker, keeping herself drunk and occupied while her classmates moved on with their lives, all moving to uni or roadtripping or whatever the hell stupid shit. Lia tried not to care, tried not to focus on the fact that she had spent four years at home, still living with her parents and not doing anything. Even her sisters had moved away and gotten knocked up or a promotion at work. Lia didn't know work, didn't know college either. Just the walls of her home and the bottles she drowned herself in.

The night of her sister's birthday she was invited out to a club. With great annoyance Lia made her way through downtown, heading to a mainstream club. She was dressed in a formal dress that hugged her body, the black smooth fabric stopping above her knees. She wore plain converse, because she hated heels, despite that she had smooth soft legs and a small crossbody bag on her shoulder.
Lia found her way in the club and to her sister who was dancing with her fiancee. Gross. Lia rolled her eyes and made her way to the bar. Ordering a fourteen dollar shot of tequila?! What the actual fuck. She better get a good buzz from this miracle tequila. She stood at the bar, dancing wasn't really her scene, nor was celebrating her sister birthday. Not like it really mattered anyway, her sister wasn't looking for her, more focused on the self proclaimed grand birthday celebration.

Honestly an hour later Lia was fucked up. She had one too many drinks, maybe even 5 too many drinks. She stumbled in the crowd of bumping bodies and sweaty limbs. The music was too damn loud. Her head fucking pounded as she walked, stumbled more so towards the dark booths to the back of the club. She just wanted to lay down, needed to close her eyes for a moment. Stumbling over the velvet rope barrier, she huffed and tugged her dress down as it threatened to roll up as she stepped over the rope. Finally getting over she walked to the booth, tossing her purse on the table and plopping down on to the cool leather.

A soft contented sigh left her lips as the cool pressed against her warm skin. But just as she was about to relax a soft chuckle was heard from the other side of the circular booth. Lias eyes shot open and she sat up slightly on her elbows and looked across the table.

Marshall fucking Mathers sat across from her, his eyes crinkling as his lips turned up into a small smirk. Lia sat up quickly and cleared her throat "you're.." She spoke slowly, unsure and quiet as her gaze washed over his black hoodie and white shirt underneath. His hood was up and in the dim space she watched as he nodded "yeah." He chuckled softly as she went rigid.

"Oh fuck!" Were the next words that were leaving her "I'm so sorry man, I didn't know that-" she quickly moved to gather her things and leave with her embarrassed pride "that this was occupied" she spoke quickly and her hands hurried as she grabbed her bag.

"Hey no it's alright, you're not bugging. It's no big deal." Marshall's voice spoke low in amusement as Lia shook her head "if I had known I wouldn't have laid here" she sighed and rested her cheek on the cool table between them.

Marshall watched as the woman closed her eyes and her reddened cheek pressed against the table. He shrugged softly "you couldn't have known I was here. Told them not to put security outside." Lia huffed and sat up, leaning against the booth as she met his gaze she nodded softly and looked out the booth. They were slightly hidden in the privacy of the thin curtains, she tilted her head as something clicked "why are you at the club? You don't party..?" She turned to look at him as he nodded "16 years sober." He mumbled gently "I was supposed to meet an artist I was considering signing but she didn't show so I'm just relaxing." He sipped his water.

Lia nodded softly "oh. Well that seems annoying." She rolled her eyes "I'm Lia. Well Amelia but I hate how formal that sounds." She smiled softly at him. Her head fuzzy and pounding as she watched a kind smile spread on his lips.

"Marshall. Or Slim." He shrugged at his alter egos name that has become his own. Lia held her hand ojt for a handshake and he accepted, his larger hand gently grasping her clammy one. "You been drinking?" He asked softly to which lia nodded and pulled her hand away, wiping her clammy hand on her dress "yeah, my sister birthday" she pointed with her thumb over her shoulder to no where particularly.

Marshall observed her and nodded softly. Going quiet as she leaned her head back against the slightly sticky table. "You should head home Lia, nurse that hangover before the morning." He suggested but she shook her head "fuck I don't want to go home. Hate being home." She muttered softly.
And for once Marshall could agree. A flicker of understanding crossed his face as his fingers played with the glass of water before him. "Well I think you could use getting out of here." He glanced around the still loud bumping club around them. It was after midnight but the night life was in full swing.

Lia sighed and nodded "yeah I guess so. I'm hungry anyway." Shs yawned and sat up as her body slightly swayed "I'm gonna head out." She mumbled and moved to stand. Marshall chuckled as she held onto the curtain for stability "alright Lia. Get home safe."

Lia waved as she wandered out of the club. Holding her body against the cool air of the night. Lia walked home slowly, her mind not processing the gravity of the situation. She made her way into bed as she tugged off the annoying fabric of her dress. As she drifted off to sleep she quietly mumbled a sleepy incoherent huff.

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Lia awoke the next morning, hungover, tired and very irritated. She made her way to her bathroom, taking a shower and cleaning off her sweat that was mixed with the strangers sweat she bumped past last night. Her head pounded, eyes hurt and burned, stomach was churning and nauseated.

But in the calm of the hot shower she scrubbed off her skin, hoping that if she pressed hard enough she might be able to shed the person she so desperately hated. After her skin was red and raw she washed her hair, focusing on scrubbing her scalp free from sweat and dirt. Lia focused on last night, thinking about all that happened while she was out trying to enjoy that night.
All she could remember was her whiny sister, the loud music, strangers trying to grope at her.

The longer she played the night over in her head she slowly came to realize the brooding man in the booth. She paused scrubbing her scalp with shampoo, Slim Shady had a conversation with her lastnight..?

She shook her head "you're insane." She muttered and went back to washing the shampoo out of her hair. Though by the end of her shower when she was getting dressed the thoughts continued to replay, gently pinching the bridge of her nose and sighed loudly in her messy room.
"Of course you'd finally meet Marshall fucking Mathers and be a complete bimbo." She stood, her body tight and coiled as she let out a screech of frustration "he's only the man you've been obsessed with since for fucking ever." She rolled her eyes and shook her head once again as she moved to flop on her messy bed.

Honestly of course it would happen. The man she's had a crush on had to experience her drunk and stupid. Could it get any better?

After considering for a bit she pulled her phone from the charger and quietly searched social media for his account, once finding it she wrote out a message
'Hey Slim, don't mean to bother but I'm the girl that pestered u lastnight. I just wanted to say a quick srry. Oh and luv ur music.'
She sent the text before she could second-guess her confidence, after a bit of stalking on his page she turned off her screen and tossed her phone on the bed. She wanted to eat but knew better. Instead she rolled onto her side, cuddling one of her many plushed animals and slowly drifted off to a fitful slumber.

At one of the most expensive hotels Marshall sat on the edge of his bed. His hoodie on and pajama pants as he focused his blue gaze out the window and lost in thought. By noon, he had watched a few boring shows and took a good nap. Damn his life was really down to this. Boring in-between shows or projects, just left to rot alone.

As he went through texts that he should answer but doesn't, he considered checking his social media, something he never really did but FUCK was he bored. He rolled onto his stomach and opened the app, quietly looking through the comments and likes of his most recent post. When he found nothing important he moved onto message requests, plenty of girls 'offering' sex and dates. But one of the most recent ones catching his attention 'Hey Slim, don't mean to bother..' he quietly clicked the message and smiled gently.
After a moment of consideration he started typing a response back.
'Like I said no need 2 b sorry. And thx' he sent the message and waited a moment. Not really waiting for her to answer...just waiting..

Bubbles in the corner appeared as Lia typed out an answer. Great, she was going to answer soon enough. He watched as the bubbles turned into a message.
'Still I hate how I acted' the text was simple and short but it showed self awareness, and genuine apology.

Marshall felt a smile on his lips, his cheeks tugging as he chuckled lowly and shook his head slightly. This girl was kind, even while drunk she had been very compassionate. And for once he felt like he was more than his money, his music, or his fame. He felt...human to someone else.

Typing out a quick response he rolled onto his back and stretched his tight limbs. 'We have good and bad moments. I can't judge' as the message sent he stared at the ceiling. It had been quite a while since he fucked something, sounds weird yes but not like he could proudly bring his flashlight or pocket pussy with him on trips. And he never really felt the need to jerk off, blame the depression or whatever it was. Marshall wasn't any better then to text back any one of the desperate girls on his social media, but the thought of fucking a random just didn't scream at him the way it would have if he was maybe 20 or 30. As he considered his options his hand slipped to his plaid pajama pants and quietly gazed until his cock was warm and waking to hardness. He sighed softly and closed his eyes as he tried to relax, but to no avail his hand stopped moving and Marshall turned his attention back to his phone as it chimed.

'Thank God u aren't a saint' the simple text made another smile cross his face as he typed back. It was eager, the most he had talked to someone about something besides his music and money.
'Far from it.' As the text sent he quietly looked over her profile. Public, alright... a small following, either old account was hacked or she has no friends.. her pictures are all posted sporadically throughout the years.. she newly 22..
All little things he could find out from her page he found. Favorite color is green, favorite artist was him, alot of his music featured on a couple of her posts. Her curves shown in mirror pictures of her 'new jeans, felt qt'.
He couldn't lie or try and deny, she was attractive. In a hot young girl type of way..and he also could not deny the way her hips dropped wide made his cock swell in the confines of his pajama pants. Oh what he'd do to her. Maybe she was a virgin and he'd pop that fucking cherr-...WOAH WOAH!!
Marshall groaned and tossed his phone on the bed and rubbed his eyes aggressively "what the fuck is wrong with me" he muttered lowly. But even as he tried to steer his mind away it continued to go back. He'd fuck her hard, fill her a couple times and if she was down he might marry her right after. WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?!

Marshall growled at the thoughts in his head. He grabbed the tv remote and turned it up high enough that all he heard was jeopardy ringing in the room.

Marshall didn't answer when she text back. He in fact un-installed the app before he could make any stupid remarks or even dumber mistakes.

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Marshall un-installed the app, not before he took screenshots of posts he found particularly hot. As he went through the camera roll, jeopardy still blasting in the background as his hand wormed in to his pajama pants. Slow dry strokes of his hand gripping his warm shaft trying to coax out precome. His eyes focused on the curvy woman on his screen.

Her thighs and hips thick. Slight lower tummy fat, he assumed cute back rolls. Perfect to grab onto while he pounded her into the mattress. Her tits he knew were glorious. And as his hand worked hard and fast, slick squelching sounds rose from the confines of his pants.

Quick to free himself he pushed down his pants, just below his ass, too damn desperate to get them off completely. His hand greedily wrapped around his cock head and squeezed gently. Making him groan as he closed his eyes and his mind took him to bliss.

Lia frowned softly when she never got an answer. She shrugged gently and started up her console and fell into her usual boring routine. Video-games until her parents got home in the evening, dinner with the birth givers and then back to her room for more games and the occasional masturbation before she passed out.
Tonight was no different. The longer she played her game and progressed achievements, the darker it got outside. She played nice at dinner with her parents. Listening to their rants about work and giving short answers to questions they asked about her future 'have you been applying for jobs?'...'yup'...'you should look at the local community colleges'...'okay.'
But deep down Lia had no desire to do any of that. After dinner she walked back up to her room. And checked her phone for the millionth time, in search of Marshall's response, but of course nothing.

Lia scowled and rolled her eyes. Typing out a double text 'if u don't want to talk to me just tell me instead of being a bitch ab it' Her attitude bitter and uncontrollable as she sent that text and waited for him to read it. To which he didn't and that pissed her off more. She screamed angrily and chucked her phone against the wall. Only to hear a crack as it made contact with her poster and another crack as it slammed into the floor.
That only angered her more. Why the fuck did he think he was better then her? Just because his stupid ass had money? Just because he was famous he didn't need to answer a conversation he willingly participated in?!

She was fuming as she tugged free from her clothes. Her hand was on her mound quick and eager as she roughly rubbed her clit. The sensitive bundle of tight nerves jumping and throbbing at the rough ministrations.
Fuck Marshall Mathers. That asshole could fuck himself. Deep down she knew she'd fuck him the first chance she got, and that frustrated her further. Her body twitched and jerked as her hand worked her closer to the edge.
She'd hatefuck him. Definitely would tell him how much he annoyed her while he was balls deep in her. The thought crossed her mind as she whimpered and bucked into the pleasure her hand was bringing her.

By the end of her countless orgasms, she lost track, her clit ached and throbbed. It felt raw and like it might actually fall off. She rolled over on her bed. Her body hot and sweaty as she drifted off to a quiet slumber.

In the middle of the night Marshall made his way through the dead airport, the only time he could fly peacefully honestly. Bags in hand he made his way to jet that Paul, his manager, had booked for him to take back to Detroit. Marshall glanced around the dead airport, making his way through the corridors to his gate and boarding the empty jet. By the time he was in the air he stared out the window at California's busy freeways and streets, the lights from streetlights and cars dancing as the jet pulled further and further away from the city. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and stared at the notebook before him. A blank gaze as he considered what he might write.

The short ride to Detroit was quiet on board, but his in beats headphones, his music loud as he criticized and listened to every single beat. When the jet landed he gathered his things and made his way home. The car driving him home, no interaction with the driver, he just focused on the scenery as the car pulled into the gated community he lived in.
His tired body moved with an glide that only an older man would have. And as annoying as that was, he refused to have anyone else carry his bags. Marshall walked into his quiet home. Taking in the scent of lemon pinesol. The cleaning lady was just there earlier that day.

Marshall headed to his room and unpacked. By that time it was early morning and he pulled out his phone. Quietly texting his manager that he was home and not to bother him. After that he stripped down to his boxers and slipped into bed. The stress of his thoughts and the quietness of the house lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

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In the quiet morning Marshall rolled onto his stomach and quietly yawned. As he relaxed again, the loud silence filled the room, the too big house, it was lonely. The true depth of his longing would forever be a weight pressing down on his mental state. The constant linger or hurt and searching the quiet environment that always seemingly surrounded his existence. Marshall shifted to his back, the sheets tangled in his limbs as his arms shifted to feel the empty bed beside him.

One thing he considered over the years was paying someone, a sugar baby if you will, to stay with him. Keep him company in his lonely life. He knew there was plenty of people that would jump at the proposal but the thought of not being emotionally connected with that stranger bothered him.

He laid in the cool bed for a bit before the sun bothered him. Marshall quietly sighed and moved out of bed. He quietly grabbed his phone and headphones, walking downstairs to his home gym. He listened to music as he jogged on his treadmill, his muscles screamed with fatigue, his joints ached with each step. He wasn't getting any younger and he certainly didn't seem any smarter. He stared out the large window infront of him. Watching as storm clouds closed around the once blue sky, his lungs burned as he started to run, to sprint, trying to get away from his past, from his present life, from the ache in his heart.

Marshall soon showered and focused on the empty notebook paper. He tapped his pencil against the lined paper, he'd hoped that music would come to him as easily as it did when he was freshly coming out, things changed, perspectives changed, his motivations changed. As he moved to his laptop he quietly clicked around on a couple things until fresh beats and melodies played on his studio speakers. He quietly tried to focus on the sounds surrounding him. Instead he opened a new tab and quietly pulled his social media account up, his cursor quick to click on the messages waiting for him. He looked for Lias conversation, scrolling past the many requests by women, just to stop at the only message he ever answered. 'If u don't want to talk to me...' he read the recent message. It screamed at him. He know very well he upset her. And if he was completely honest he felt bad. As quick as his fingers allowed him he typed out an answer to her 'Hey, sorry I'm just getting this. I got back to Detroit.' He explained why he didn't answer. Leaving out the fact that he felt feelings for her that terrified him. He collapsed the tab and moved back to his notebook. Quietly working a bit, at least a couple lyrics ended up on the page

"Yo, it started on a dark night, city lights blinkin',
She walked in the room, had my heart start thinkin’,
Curvy silhouette, got me lost in her vibe"

Call Marshall sentimental but as soon as Lia responded his jitters faded 'oh. Hope your trip was okay. Srry for being rude' Her message made him smile. He worked his fingers on the keyboard 'no worries babe' the message was simple and kind of sweet with the term of endearment.

Lia waited his answer. When she read the text her face flushes slightly at the word babe. She bit her lip gently and text him back as fast as she could 'I keep making bad impressions with u. It's embarrassing' the flutter of butterflies in her tummy made her giddy, a cheesy smile from the interaction from one of her favorite artists. She was obsessed. With him, his music, his everything. Ever since before she could remember she wanted to marry him, desperately hoped that one day she meet him and they'd fall in love and she'd live a happily ever after with the most handsome man she knew.

Yeah right. She was 10 when she wrote that in her diary. What a load of shit. The probability of him marrying her was very fucking slim. And the older she got the more she'd like to fuck him. Nights of dreaming about him, how he might treat her. Was he hard and rough? Or did he like it nice and soft? All questions her core desperately needed to know. And it took everything in her not to ask that dumbass if he was kinky. She hated him so much, hated that even when her hands were stuffed under her clothes she thought about him, hated that regardless of the shitty attitudes most rappers represented, she thought out of all females, Lia could fix Marshall. Make him into a husband instead of the self proclaimed player he made himself out to be. Yeah. Like that would ever happen. One could fucking be delusional.

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Amelia would spend her morning giddy at the fact that THE Marshall Mathers called her ‘babe’. And I know you’re thinking that he probably calls people babe all the time, but this morning Lia was more than happy to sit in bed and day dream about the man. She had yet to answer him, thinking that she would wait to see if he’d reach back out during the day. She spent all day in bed, rolling around occasionally to get comfortable in the sea of blankets as she picked movies from the online catalog. She picked a cheesy stupid romance, where the main character did everything he could to woo over the pretty woman in the story.

By the end of said tear jerker, she found herself looking at their messages, Marshall hadn’t reached out, In fact he was busy with his manager Paul. Paul was on Marshalls ass because the rapper didn’t want to make many public appearances, didn’t want to be star of the show or under the constant critic scrutiny that came with being in the spot light. “But Marshall They’re asking for two songs and that’s it! You’ll get 75,000” Marshall considered the amount of money they were willing to pay him, it was either too good to be true OR was just a ploy to get what they wanted from him. And like fuck they were gonna be able to tell him what to do “Fuck that Paul, I’m not doing the shows those cocksuckers don’t even know who slim shady is…stupid fucks wanting ME? Me, to be on their little weekend show, no” Marshall sat on the phone in his studio, his manager sighed softly “Marshall I know you’re set up money wise anyway, but people still want to see slim, Let me know if you change your mind..” They said their goodbyes with an edge in Marshalls voice.

Right, They always wanted Slim Shady, the man that would say anything and everything just to piss you off, the man that threw Marshall into so many spirals because of the drugs and alcohol. Marshall used to use Slim Shady as his alter ego, he was used to being able to say what he wanted and blame it on Slim. But in reality maybe Marshall was just a bad guy, and maybe he should have taken responsibility for everything he said in the past, but he wasn’t going to. Marshall would continue being stubborn and continue to believe he was in the right, he was not.

Amelia reached out later that night, her fingers working over her phones keyboard for the perfect words. She settled with a simple message, the of ding of Marshalls computer signaled a new message on the ‘secret’ tab opened to his messages. Had he kept the tab open basically all day while he worked in the studio? Yes he had, had he checked it every twenty minutes? Yes, yes he did. And he was just as eager to push his chair back from his notebook and slide the rolling chair over to his computer. And within a couple clicks of the mouse he stared at her message “babe is so unoriginal” Wow, someone is fucking sassy, Marshall though to himself as he grinned and his own fingers worked over his keyboard “well srry I didn’t knw I was supposed to have a more creative name Ma’am” He mocked. As he sent the message he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his cheeks.

Lia who was taking her bedrot dishes to her parents kitchen stopped and looked at her phone at the notification. She nibbled her lip as she juggled to balance the cups of moldy whatever and type at the same time, her message was teasing and flirty, definitely with more flirting than she should. “Ma’am is a good start :D” What was she doing? Here she was at her parents house, cleaning up the mess her brain couldn’t handle a couple days ago. She arrived back into her small room, her floors were covered with clothes, her bedding melting off the bed and cups, bowls, and utensils found stacked and full of left over food or drinks. What was she supposed to do? She felt overwhelmed…Why had everything worked out from people around her? And why couldn’t she manage her emotions? She was supposedly an adult, but even as she stared at the mess she called her room, she couldn’t help the feel of bile creeping up the back of her throat. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shut as she seemed to vibrate deep inside her chest. What the fuck is wrong with me? She questioned silently in her head, her hands twisted into fists and as her eyes opened she had a different type of feeling. She grabbed at the blankets melting off her bed and in her fit effectively trashing her room. Leaving her breath harbored with feelings she couldn’t express and words stuck in her mind. She slipped on her headphones and started some of her favorite music. As Marshalls words filled her ears she felt her insides calm down, her chest stopped throbbing and her knuckled hurt from everything she had punched in her fit of anger. Marshall could express the hate she felt in her heart. She didn’t hate anything in particular but she still was plagued with resentment towards others, resentment towards what she had yet to accomplish.

It was late, way too fucking late for Marshall to be up and thinking about the girl that had seemed to catch his eye. His eyes trained on her profile displayed on his phone screen. Yes yes he gave in and downloaded the damn app again, he was beginning to become interested in the girl that stumbled into his life. His hand subconsciously moved down his stomach, quietly slipping under the edge of his pajama pants and resting just above the neat patch of scratchy pubic hair. His thumb moved on the screen of his phone, her favorite food places all found in a folder of photos, she liked pasta, and loved to drink it seemed, every other picture had some type of cocktail or mixed alcohol.. He found that she wore the same hoodie for three years, and it was in her most recent post. His hand started to work the tip of his cock awake, gently squeezing the soft flesh as he moved his attention to a picture of her with a skin tight dress, seemingly the dress she bought for her sisters birthday, in the photo she stood in the dressing room, her hand on her hip and her head tilted just enough to hide her face behind her phone using the mirrors reflection. She stood no taller then 5 something and definitely seemed to have the attitude behind it. His hand now grasped his shaft and gently stroked it to life. He was too old to be laying in bed stalking some girl and getting off to it. The problem was that she was provocative, even in a simple tight black dress his eyes glued to her wide hips, the way her collarbone was slightly exposed…Call him eager but little tantalizing glimpses like the ones she showed were enough to have him leaking in the palm of his hand. He was too grown for this, and might he had considered that, it would’ve stopped him from doing what he did.

He busted a nut to her pictures, and in his post nut bliss he sent ten digits to her inbox with a message that said ‘call me’ Why? Why would Marshall do that? No idea, but before he could gather what he had just done, he tossed his phone to the side, grabbing a tissue, cleaning his hand and rolling onto his stomach to pass out. Damn did bro need to get his dick wet. It was sad really, a man that once wanted to love to hard was now afraid of loving too hard. He still loved Kim, even if she’d look at him with hate, and he’d always be there for her. He loved that she gave him kids and loved the wife she was before things got bad. Why things got bad he’d never know, maybe he was touring too much, and maybe she got tired of being the only one home. Maybe she got tired of waiting her turn, tired of waiting for her husband to come home. And Marshall wasn’t perfect, he had slept with women when his own devoted wife sat at home watching his tour on their rinkydink tv. Marshall wouldn’t know, even when all these years passed he yearned to have someone in bed next to him, he craved the warmth that welcomed his cock, the arms and would hold him so close. He missed being able to be himself, in his years of stardom he had come to realize that maybe solitude was his fate.

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Amelia awoke to a message from her favorite artist. She squealed happily as she started at the ten digit phone number. “Call me” the words simple and demanding. Did he mean call her right then and there? It was 7 in the morning, no way. But before he brain could rationalize anything her fingers were quick to copy and paste the number into her keypad and dial the number before putting the phone to her ear, she laid in bed, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out under her blanket. The phone ran a couple times before a groggy voice answered “Paul ‘s too early” Marshall muttered softly “call back in an hour” he huffed as he moved to hang up the phone. Amelia laughed softly “I don’t know who Paul is..” She spoke softly.

Her soft voice shook Marshall out of his sleep idled brain and he sat up quickly and cleared his throat “um hello?” He was so confused, who the fuck was calling him this ear- Marshall gritted his teeth and shook his head silently at his stupidity. “Hi, sorry I called so early but I just saw your message.” Amelia explained softly. Her voice was so kind, sounded so pretty. Marshal hummed softly as he relaxed slightly. He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, as his hands clutched his phone to his ear “no worries, probably needed to get up sooner or later” he spoke gently as he smiled slowly. “Yeah I know what you mean, I like my bed a bit too much, could live in it if I was allowed too” she mumbled softly and giggled.

Marshall thought about what she had just said, was she a pillow princess? He didn’t really hate pillow princesses but he hated when they put no effort into getting him off, just for their own selfish pleasure. Why was he thinking about pillow princesses? He cleared his throat and sat up as he threw his legs over the edge of his bed “beds are nice” he said simply. BEDS. ARE. NICE? Really Marshall? All you could answer with was beds are nice? In his own defense he might have been stuck on the pillow princess part. “Yeah I like the beds that have enough room for like five blankets..” Amelia rambled about her bed set up and Marshall was wondering if she liked being catered to in bed, or maybe she was demanding..would she beg or tell him what to do? His stomach bubbled with the familiar arousal as his brain continued on. He snapped out of it when Amelia mentioned California king beds. “I’ve got one, it’s alright” he mentioned softly. Amelia gasped softly “you have a cali king? Dude those things are HUGE!” She giggled softly “is it hard to find bedding for it?” Marshall didn’t actually know if it was, he never had to change his own bedding, his house maide was usually in charge of that aspect. He shrugged slightly “I don’t know, I just sleep in it” he chuckled softly.

During the call they got acquainted and talked late into the morning, by noon she was tired again and he had to work so he hung up and she crawled in bed. Marshall had talked about himself more than he had ever talked about himself. She asked him everything, his favorite color, blue. His favorite food, he liked chicken wings, specifically hot ones. She didn’t ask anything too personal, just trivial questions to keep the conversation going. By the time Marshall was having his lunch around two in the afternoon, Amelia was getting ready to head out for a party with her friends (aka her weed dealer and his gf) She text Marshall wishing him a good day and ever the bold woman decided to send a picture of herself with it. Nothing too crazy, just a mirror picture of her skinny jeans and off the shoulder sweater. It was kinda cold out in northern cali for her, so she wanted to dress warm. Marshall wished her a good rest of her day as well and told her he liked her earrings, they were silver hoops.

Amelia drank, finding herself at some random house party, in the bathroom, fishing for her phone as she swayed slightly. She found herself texting Marshall, telling him how much she liked his music. And Marshall very much could tell she was exactly sober. Her text message a series of jumbled together letters that made no sense. But in Amelia’s drunken state she was typing out what she felt at that moment. Marshalls thumb moved across the screen before he sent her a message “call?” Lia was quick to press the phone call button, sitting on the edge of the expensive bathtub as she listened to the ring of the phone.

Marshall smiled as he answered “hey lady, you doing alright?” He asked softly to wish Amelia giggled “I’m good” she nodded sloppily “I had a couple drinkzzz” she mumbled softly. Marshall chuckled softly “I see, well at least you’re having fun right?” Amelia nodded again slightly “wish you were here” she whispered, she wasn’t lying, she wished he was there, for maybe more reasons than one but he didn’t need to know th- “I need a cock” she muttered softly. Marshall was quiet for a moment before he snorted “you drink and get horny?” He laughed and shook his head “no I’m always horny and just decided to drink tonight” she huffed matter-a-factly. Marshall continued to laugh as he hummed “alright that’s fair” he spoke calmly, he could deny the way his pants seemed to tighten at her slurred words, maybe she was a girl that liked it sloppy, or not, maybe she liked vanilla sex, one thing was for sure, Marshall was never gonna piss on a girl for her pleasure. He had boundaries, and he knew he wasn’t gonna do anything he didn’t like. He however didn’t stop himself from blurting what he was thinking “what color is your bra?” He asked nonchalantly. Amelia was completely unphased by the question as she hummed and checked the color “looks blue, might be like black” she mumbled softly as she held the phone to her ear and her free hand was trying to get the color to stop changing. Marshall smiled softly “maybe its a navy” he offered to which Amelia gasped “yup its a navy” she giggled softly “wanna see it?” She asked before moving her phone from her ear and putting him on speaker.

She took a picture of her bra, the supportive lacy bra was holding her heavy breasts. When Marshall received the photo he smiled lightly and hummed “yup it’s definitely navy” he stated quietly “do your panties match?” He spoke slowly as to not rattle her drunken state. Amelia hummed softly as she processed the question “is Marshall asking about my panties?” She giggled softly to wish he chuckled and nodded “Marshall is asking about your panties, but if it’s easier you could totally just show me” he grinned gently. Something about how this girl was playful with him made him feel good. Compared to the serious people he always had around it was kind of nice to be teased, to have light hearted banter, even if it was about her panties.

Amelia snorted softly and hummed “and I’m sure you’d love to see em” she teased and Marshall nodded “i would absolutely love it” he hummed softly as he leaned back in his studio chair. “I’m definitely a lingerie set type of man” he nodded “i like a good set” he admitted. Amelia rolled her eyes “lingerie is so uncomfy and scratchy” she huffed softly to which he chuckled “then you’re probably wearing cheap lingerie” he stated gently. Amelia processed the words for a moment before she giggled “and what you know what expensive lingerie feels like?” Marshall rolled his eyes and smiled “yes, of course I do” he chuckled “no i used to try and spoil my ex wife, thought it would spice things up” he shrugged. And he had, when Marshall and Kim were at the end of the relationship he had tried to get her the best lingerie, the best chocolate covered strawberries and the tastiest red wine his money could offer. But that night ended in a fight because Kim said she didn’t line lingerie, and the fact that was trying to ‘force’ her to wear it was repulsive. He hadn’t tried to force it, he offered it to her as a present to try and help her feel sexy, alas he was wrong to try and do that.

Lia hummed softly and nodded “I don’t know i think I’d try good lingerie, i just can’t afford any” she shrugged gently “so for now ill have you know that my panties do not match my bra” she giggled softly “my panties are grey”. Marshall nodded softly and nibbled his lip slightly “think I could see them too?” He asked softly.

Amelia sent a picture of her panties, they were barely there! Marshall stared at the little flimsy fabric that covered her mound and disappeared between her asscheeks. His cheeks reddened slightly as he hummed into the phone “they kinda match” he cleared his throat as he stared at the imprint her pussy left against the fabric. His pants tightened as she giggled softly “glad you think so” she bit her lip and held her phone close to her ear “I could fly you out here to Detroit” he blurted out, Amelia went silent as she thought about what he just said “to Detroit?” She whispered softly and blushed slightly. Marshall nodded softly and looked down at the tent in his pants. “We could hang out, i could show you were the magic happens…IN the studio i mean!” He was quick to correct as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head quietly. Lia giggled softly and nodded softly “sure, as long as you show me where the magic actually does happen” she nibbled her lip nervously.

Marshall was definitely conflicted, on one hand he so wanted to bury himself deep inside her, and on the other hand wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, become friends or something. He smiled softly and nodded “alright alright, that can be arranged” He was more them willing to fuck if that’s what she wanted, and he was sure she was the type he’d have fun with. But even when they figured out a time for her to fly out and when they were saying their goodbyes he couldn’t help but feel a bit worried that things might go south.

Chapter Text

Marshall was nervous, for once in his life he double checked his sunglasses, made sure his cologne smelled good and that his pants didn’t look stupid. It had been a couple days since Lia and Him had made plans to fly her out, and it was finally here. She was on an airplane headed his way and he was standing in the foyer of his Detroit home looking at himself in the reflection of his mirror. Maybe he should change his shoes, but the black of the leather matched his hoodie, everything he owned was black, what was he thinking? He was fine, his plain dark grey tshirt felt to heavy beneath the zip up hoodie he decided to wear. Scratch that the jacket looks stupid. He shrugged off his jacket and looked at his shirt, fuck the shirt. He tugged it off and huffed as he jogged back upstairs to his closet and found a plain white tshirt. He slipped it on and nodded, better. He tugged on his jacket, grabbed his phone and keys and was bounding down the the stairs and headed to his garage. He picked his plain black Cadillac and pulled out of the garage.

He was anxious to have her over, they had planned for her to stay a couple days with him, at his house. The last time he had a woman in his house with him was probably Kim. He let the music lull him into his thoughts as he drove. What if she didn’t like his cologne, or thought his beard was a bit too scruffy..he had trimmed it. He had planned dinner with her, maybe show her around where he grew up and eventually head back to his place where he would-….Not yet, they’d come back, talk about how rough she like- no. They were going to get back to his place and he was gonna show her the studio, maybe eat her out on his desk. Maybe.

Amelia sat on the plane, she was tired but couldn’t sleep on the stupid plane. She hated being squished between people but Marshall insisted that she fly in first class (to his expense) and she ACTUALLY had leg room, she leaned back in the comfortable seat, nibbling her lip and lost in thought. She figured he was flying her out to fuck, Who pays for a first class ticket and not get some ass. She had waxed, she figured she smelled good and her hair was up in a ponytail to try and keep her hair out of her face. She was ready, if he did actually want sex she wasn’t exactly going to deny him, she’d probably jump his bones at the mention of getting to ride him. She pulled her bag from the floor into her lap and quietly rummaged through the bag before finding her watermelon lip oil. Did Marshall like watermelon flavored? Amelia pondered as she applied the gloss and closed her compact.

She was walking through the airport, her plane had landed and she made her way to arrivals. There he sat, he was unbothered, and sexy as fuck with his thighs spread as he lounged in an arm chair, his phone in his hands as he quietly seemed to type out a message. He leaned back slightly and she bit her lip slightly, throwing her tote over her shoulder and making her way towards him, she opted for loose fitting sweatpants, a baby tshirt hugged her tits and waist, her midriff exposed to show star tattoos on her hips. She made her way to the man that was undeniably Marshall. Stopping short she tilted her head and smiled “Marshall” she greeted gently, her silver hoops dangling as she waved.

Marshall looked up from his phone and he froze, her glossed lips and exposed stomach made him swallow hard. He smiled warmly and tucked his phone into his jeans before he stood up “hey, good to see you, how was the flight?” He leaned down to give her a quick hug to which she returned, her manicured hand resting on his rib as her head nuzzled into his shoulder slightly “was good” she spoke gently. Marshall could smell her shampoo, sweet and floral, he quietly inhaled and nodded softly, burning her scent into his brain. “I suppose first class is alright?” He pulled away and tucked his hands into his pockets as he took in her figure again. She nodded and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at him through her lashes, “i suppose” she grinned gently and moved to glance around behind him “no security? Aren’t celebs supposed to have body guards?” She tilted her head and looked at him.

His heart rate seemed to quicken as he looked into her dark down eyes, the way her long eyelashes fluttered at her question and her glossy lip caught between her teeth as she nibbled, her long dark hair that swayed behind her. He nodded softly as he cleared his throat “um yeah, i have one, just don’t bother him much” he shrugged gently. Amelia nodded softly and shrugged “guess that’s fair” she smiled and nodded at him “lead the way sir” she fixed her tote bag and walked with him out of the airport. When they got to his ride she put her bags in the back seat and got into the passenger. She turned in her seat to look over at him as she grinned “Marshall I’m starving” she looked around the parking lot, “there anywhere good to eat here?” She asked him as she looked at him.

Marshall was focusing on not dragging her to the backseat and fucking her right then and there. He put the key in the ignition and twisted it as he nodded “i have just the place for you, the best burgers i know” he smiled and pulled out of the parking spot. Amelia giggled and nodded “alright then, lets go” she leaned back and watched him as she drove, her eyes never left his profile, and after a bit Marshall glanced at her and chuckled “what?” He asked before looking back at the road. Amelia shook her head as her hand moved from her lap and to his arm “nothing, you’re just handsome” she shrugged gently as her hand moved up to his shoulder, continuing up as she leaned against the center console and ran her nails against his jaw. The act alone made shivers cross his spine and he chuckled softly “right” he huffed softly. Lias hand gripped his jaw and made him look at her. Her eyes meeting his own blue ones with an intensity that rattled both of them. She bit her lip and nodded “i am right Marshall, shut up and don’t argue with me” her lips turned into a smile and he nodded gently “alright alright” he muttered softly and rubbed his jaw. The way her nails scraped his skin drove him wild. He would definitely pay for each one of her nail appointments.

The car ride was very tense, Marshall gripped the steering wheel to keep himself grounded. She was making him feel good, too good. His demons screamed at him, his brain starting to turn on him and work words into his subconscious that ruined his mood. He was bitter by the end of the car ride and Lia could feel it, as he slammed the shifter into park and he sighed quietly, her hand moved to his arm and she stayed quiet. Marshall didn’t move from her touch but he certainly wanted to. Amelia took a moment before she pulled his hand to her lap, she massaged his hand gently “what’s wrong?” She watched as his jaw worked and he focused out the window, the weather was dark and the clouds heavy, the already dim vehicle seeming even darker.

Marshall didn’t know what he felt, he was sad, angry? Upset? He didn’t know. Times like this was when he drank, or popped a couple uppers. But he couldn’t, shouldn’t. As Marshall stayed quiet Amelia hummed softly “why don’t i go in, I’ll get us some food and you and i can eat in here?” She tilted her head and watched for ant type of reaction. Marshall shook his head softly and glanced at her, “no i said we’d hang out” he mumbled. Lia squeezed his hand “yeah we are, we’re gonna hang out in here” she smiled and tugged on his arm “Marshall” she spoke gently, coaxing him out of his stubbornness he looked at her “ill be back, we’ll still have a good time” she leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lipgloss smearing on his cheek but he didn’t care. He nodded gently and watched as she grabbed her purse and headed into the little diner. He watched her until she disappeared inside and he sighed softly. He put his head in his hand and took a couple slow breaths. She wasn’t Kim. He knew that, he could see that by her kindness. But his brain told him the worse, saying Lia was only there for the money, that she didn’t actually want to be around him. He looked at where Lia stood inside, she was looking at a menu as she waited for the waiter. She nibbled her nail as she read over her choices, she was far from Kim. Kim would’ve pestered him that he shouldn’t be eating junk food, telling him to get something healthier, and even if he had gotten something better she still would’ve complained. But here Lia was, willing to give him time and take the lead. He appreciated it.

He got out of the car and made his way inside. Walking to where Lia was standing before he stood behind her and rested his hand on her hip “can’t decide?” He asked softly and she nodded and smiled at him “yeah it all sounds amazing” she smiled softly “was thinking maybe just a burger? I don’t like fries” she shrugged gently. Marshall nodded gently and ordered as the waiter came over “we’ll have a couple mystical melts” he smiled warmly at the man to which he took it down and nodded “here or to go?” He asked softly and Amelia spoke up “Take away, also can i add a strawberry shake?” She glanced at Marshall who just looked at her before he nodded “ill take a vanilla”

Marshall paid and they sat at the counter waiting for their food. Amelia bit her lip and looked over at him “feeling better?” She asked softly. Marshall nodded and smiled gently “yeah thank you” he wasn’t touching her anymore but he missed the closeness, missed her warmth. He moved his stool closer to hers, to which Lia leaned into him. He found himself happy that she was so willing to accept his touch. His arm wrapped around her back and his hand rested on her stomach, there was a bit of fat under his hand, but instead of being turned off by it, he admired the way Lia was confident, she spoke on her own and definitely put herself out into the world, at least that’s how he saw it.

They left the diner with their food and made their way to to his ride. Climbing in they started to unpack the food, Amelia grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a blunt and glancing at him “wanna smoke? It’s the only way i can eat” she laughed softly. Marshall knew he shouldn’t, he at this point had been sober a few years, and fuck was it hard, but he found himself nodding. Lia smiled and nodded as she rolled down the window a bit and worked on lighting the blunt. The smell of the burnt grape wrap filled the vehicle and his mouth salivated, oh how he missed weed, and nicotine.

She took a slow drag before handing the blunt over to him. Marshall eyed it for a moment before bringing it to his lips and closing his eyes. As he inhaled he tasted the grape wrap, the earthy tone of the bud and the burn of the smoke as it filled his mouth. He fought with himself before he swallowed the smoke and allowed it to make way through his system. Marshall and Lia smoked that blunt, his tolerance way low and halfway through the blunt he felt lightheaded, but his brain didn’t scream at him, lie to him.

Lia’s stomach growled a bit later to which she unwrapped his burger and handed it to him before unwrapping hers and sitting back as she took a bite. Marshall watched as she nodded and chewed “fuck that’s good!” She looked over at him with her mouth stuffed and her eyes wide. Marshall chuckled and nodded “fuck yeah” he chuckled and took his own bite. They ate and talked and Marshall felt good, he was happy, a pretty lady keeping him company and she definitely was not one to complain, even better.

After they ate they worked their way around town and Marshall told her about every little piece of history that those areas had in his life. The sun started to get low in the sky and Marshalls jeans were tented. All that was left was to take her home and show her the pad. So as he drove home Amelia lit another blunt and they smoked. Her eyes dropping down to his lap to where she spotted the tent. She smiled to herself and handed him the blunt. It was a good day, and if Marshall was feeling up to it, probably a good night too.