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absurdthirst · 6 months

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Cellblock Tango {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.6k

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, hangovers, drunk tank, flirting, mismatched power dynamics, jail cell sex, rough sex, fingering, hand cuffs, derogatory language, role play, unprotected sex, miscommunication, Dad Marcus deserves his own warning, father/son bonding, there was only one hotel room, break ups, angst, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), love making, mentions of future children.

Comments: One little interlude leads to a surprising discovery eleven years later, Marcus Pike has a son. You are the woman he fucked in a jail cell when he was a cop and now, you're the mother of his child.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Pike 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.

“Pike.” Marcus answers his phone as he tries to finish this report and he half listens until he hears the words “art stolen” and then he’s listening to the call and he nods, stopping typing. “I’ll be right there.” He promises and hangs up, grabbing his jacket.

He is quick to drive over to the gallery and he flashes his badge when the police ask who he is. He ducks under the tape and makes his way into the gallery where glass is shattered on the floor and several employees are clearly shaken. “Hi, I’m Marcus Pike, FBI.” He introduces himself, “who’s the curator?” He asks and you step forward.

“It’s nice to see you again, Agent Pike.” You smile and Marcus frowns, trying to place your face until it hits him.

**Eleven Years Ago**

“Let me outtt.” You whine, slapping the bars of the cell you’re in, your head aching and you look at the officer on duty sitting at his desk.

“You can’t come out until you sober up.” He says and you squint as you look at his badge.

“I’m sober…ish.” You bite your lip and he shakes his head, “drunk and disorderly behavior…not great for your record.” He says and you scoff, “I’m a senior in college. Art history. I am graduating this weekend. I- I just wanted to celebrate.” You whine, resting your head on the cool bars and you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in this cell.

Marcus shakes his head and has to admit that you look cute for a criminal. You won’t be charged, you aren’t even booked in right now, taking mercy on you, although he hopes that you understand that you need to curb bad habits before it does get you into trouble. “You’ll be there until you can tell me your telephone number backwards.” He tells you with a grin, looking up from his paperwork. Marcus is known as a by-the-book cop and even though he’s still green, he’s going places. His application to the FBI should be accepted any day and he wants to make an impact on the world and community.

You whine, slumping down on the bench in the cell and soon enough, you’re falling asleep. You wake up a couple of hours later with a headache and Marcus hands you a cup of water and some aspirin. “Here.” He says and you open the bottle, taking a couple and downing the water. He refills it for you and you sigh, feeling sober and worse for wear.

“Got any good hangover tips?” You ask the cop who chuckles and you finally notice how handsome he is. His brown eyes are tired looking as he nears the end of his shift and you tilt your head against the wall.

“Nothing that would be appropriate for a jail cell.” He jokes, happy that you seem to be sober now. You had been a little rough there for awhile and it seems like though you have a hangover, you’ve learned your lesson.

“I guess pancakes and bacon is a no go in a cell.” You chuckle and look over as Marcus stands up. “You got any mints?” You ask and Marcus nods, reaching into his desk drawer and he hands you the box of altoids. You chew a few and sigh, “thanks.” Handing him back the tin, your fingers brush and you notice again how handsome he is. “I bet you’re ready to head home to your partner after dealing with drunk me tonight?” You ask with a smirk, knowing you were a handful.

Marcus snorts and shakes his head. “No partner.” He admits, shrugging sadly. “Ex-wife didn’t want to be a LEO wife.” It had stung but he understood it. He would rather end it amicably than turn nasty after kids. “And you were pretty cute drunk.” He admits with a grin.

You giggle, loving how kind he’s been despite being locked up. “At least I have that going for me.” You wink at him and he leans against the bars. “Your ex wife is an idiot to have let you go. You’re handsome and funny and you have a good job.” You flirt, leaning towards the bars. “I’d wait for you allll night baby.”

“Yeah?” Marcus smirks, enjoying the banter even though you’re probably just trying to get out of being charged. He had no intention of charging you, but it’s a harmless little indulgence. “I think you’re just hoping I’d use my handcuffs on you.”

“Ooo don’t tempt me with a good time, officer.” You wink, “I like a man who knows how to take control.” You reveal with a smirk and you playfully hold your hands up. “Arrest me again, officer.”

He chuckles and your stomach twists, “for what crimes?” He teases and you grin, “for lusting after a man in uniform.”

There is nothing that Marcus finds sexier than a confident woman and you are not simply flirting with him because you are behind bars. Or if you are, it’s because you find it sexy. The spark of desire in your eyes makes him bolder, pushing off the edge of his desk to come and prop against the bars with a smirk on his face. “Yeah?” He asks, lifting a brow. “What would you do then? Fight me?” He asks. “Or what would you let me do? Right there in the cell?” He’s dangerously close to inappropriate behavior but he doesn’t think that you mind it.

You look up at him from under your lashes, wrists still outstretched when you say “anything you want.” You promise and he inhales sharply, “I wouldn’t fight you. I’d fuck you. I’ve been a bad girl, officer, and I need some punishment.” You pout playfully and lower your hands, lifting your dress a little higher to expose your panties.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus’ eyes widen in surprise. “Are you serious?” He asks, looking around and then back at you. “You really want that?”

You nod, feeling bold at the look in his eyes and you reach through the bars to play with his badge. “Officer Pike. Do you want to fuck me?” You ask, licking your lips.

“Yes, I do.” His cock twitches and starts to harden in his uniform and he reaches for the cell keys. “Are you sure?” He asks. “You can say no at any time.” He reassures you. “I- don’t want you to feel like this is to get out of being charged. You’re being released no matter what.”

You nod in understanding, watching him open the door, and you watch him stride in. “I know. I - I don’t usually do this but you’re - you’re so sexy. I want you.” You confess. You’ve been sensible your entire life. Focusing on getting your degree, you didn’t even go out for drinks most weekends and tonight, you want to celebrate. The officer steps closer to you and you reach out to take his hands, bringing them to your waist.

“Shit. I don’t either.” Marcus confesses, squeezing your waist and then he is whipping one hand behind his back as he twists you around. “Hands behind your back.” He growls, a thread of authority in his voice. “I’m going to cuff you.”

You gasp when you feel the cold metal encircle your wrists and your cunt clenches at the way he manhandles you. “I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t mean to be bad.” You play along, arching your back so you can grind against him and you’re pleased to feel how hard he is.

“Should have thought about that before you broke the law.” He grunts, twitching against your ass. “Gonna have to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” He never thought he would be a man who enjoyed roleplay, but he is very eager to see how you react.

He bends you over the bench in the cell and tugs your dress up over your hips, making you whimper and your nails dig into your palms. “I’m sorry, officer.” You gasp when his hand comes down on your ass after he sits down beside you, one hand gripping your cuffed wrists, the other slapping your ass hard enough to make you cry out in both pleasure and pain.

It’s a good damn thing that there’s no one else in the entire building at this hour. You are loud and he loves it. “Fuck. You like this, don’t you? You little slut.” He stops and strokes your ass gently. “Was that okay?” He asks, realizing you could take offense and wanting to check in.

You love that he’s asking you if it’s okay, breaking the roleplay, and you know he’s so sweet but also so dirty to be doing this. “It’s perfect. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You promise and he nods, rubbing your ass before he brings his hand down again. “I love it.” You moan, “I love it, officer.”

Marcus groans and he slaps your ass again before he slides his hand down your hip and drags your panties down. “Let’s see how much you love it.” He growls, his fingers seeking your cunt and loving how wet he finds you.

You moan loud when he finds your cunt, sliding his fingers through your folds until he is rubbing your clit. “Oh shit.” You pant, arms starting to ache but you don’t care. You want this, you want him. It’s cleared your head and you know you are no longer drunk on booze but rather drunk on his touch. “Yes. Yes. Fuck, that’s - I need more.” You beg greedily.

Marcus pulls his fingers away and he lets go of your arms so you collapse onto the bunk. Unzipping his uniform pants and pulling his cock out, he spits in his hand and pumps himself. “I’m clean.” He promises you. “Are you…on birth control?”

You nod, “I’m clean and on the pill.” You promise and he shifts to kneel on the bunk, straddling your thighs as he pumps his cock a couple of times. “Jesus.” He hisses as he lines up and starts to push inside of you. You whine and clench your fists, enjoying the stretch of him.

You’re so fucking tight he feels like he’s going to bust. Granted, it’s been awhile for him, but he’s clenching his jaw and enjoying the way you squeeze him. “Goddamn.” He grunts when his hips are flush against your ass.

You can’t open your eyes, mouth open in a silent cry as he stretches you and you are certain you are dreaming, this has to be a wet dream. When he starts to move, you moan out and try to spread your legs a little wider but he keeps you pinned down. “Fuck baby. Yes!” You finally cry out when his hips press against your ass with each thrust.

It’s probably the roughest, kinkiest sex Marcus has had in forever and he’s into it. Holding onto your cuffed wrists, he covers you, driving into you with increasingly rougher thrusts. “Think you can spread your legs and get out of trouble?” He growls in your ear. “Your tight little cunt your get out of jail free card?” He demands. “Whoring yourself out? I should book you, keep you here to fuck.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, his words making you gush around him and he sets a harsh pace, “do it. Keep me - I - fuck. If you fuck me like this every day, I’m yours.” You moan, enjoying the way he pushes deep and his deep voice. It makes you shiver under him.

Marcus hisses when you clench around him and the keys on his belt around his hips jangle as he fucks into you. It’s a damn good thing he’s going home after this because you are soaking the front of his uniform. “You are mine.” He huffs, biting his lip and watching as his cock plows into your cunt. “Fuck, this is so hot.”

You moan your agreement, your voice echoing in the empty cell and his keys jangle a little faster as your nails dig into your palms. “Fuckkk. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me cum.” You whimper at the way he angles your hips and you cry out as you cum, clamping down on his cock.

Marcus moans, fucking you harder as you soak him with your cum. Desperate and unmeasured thrusts as he starts to feel his own orgasm building. “Shit- shit,” he whines. “So tight, you’re so fucking tight, baby.” He let’s go of your wrists to hold onto your hips and changes the angle to fuck down into you for the last half dozen thrusts before he’s grinding deep and painting your walls with his seed.

You pant, loving how he feels when he cums inside of you, and you close your eyes, savoring the feel of him inside of you. “Fuck that’s good, officer. Oh God.” You wish you could reach back and touch him. “That was so good.” You sigh and he hums in agreement as his forehead rests on your back. “Are you going to - are you going to let me go?” You ask playfully, eyes still closed as you smile.

"I shouldn't." Marcus plays along, his hand running soothingly up your spine as he catches his breath. He kisses your back and then sits up. "But I think I have to, with something this good." He chuckles, pulling out of you gently and admiring the way your cunt spasms and starts to push his cum out. He tucks himself away and pulls your panties up respectfully before he reaches for his keys. "No regrets?" He asks softly as he uncuffs you.

You let him uncuff you and you sit up, looking at him. “Baby, I couldn’t regret it.” You tell him with a wink, and you cup his cheek. “Thank you. Am I - on a serious note…am I being charged?” You ask timidly and lower your hand from his cheek.

“No.” He smiles, even though he is serious. “I had told you last night you were just being held until you could tell me your phone number backwards.” He chuckles. “You whined it out right before you fell asleep.” He hums. “So I can throw it away, or maybe… I can call you after my work week and maybe take you out on a date? Unless you want to get picked up again for drunken disorderly?” He teases.

You fluster, nodding at him, “I, uh, I would like to see you again…showered and completely sober. Not that I’m not sober but you know what I mean…not - not recently arrested.” You chuckle and he smiles softly, his brown eyes sweet and soft, albeit tired. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” You promise and he blushes a little, making you grin.

“Well then, I’ll call you.” He promises, reaching up and stroking your cheek gently. “Tonight was fun, but I know you want to get home and shower and I’m about to get off to go home and crash.” He admits. “Make sure to hydrate today, okay?”

You nod, squeezing his hand when he lowers it from your cheek. “I’ll see you soon, officer.” You wink playfully and he nods at you. You are soon reunited with your things and call a taxi to take you home. You collapse on the bed as soon as you get home and fall asleep, the exhaustion getting to you. You’ll wait for the officer to call and you dream of brown eyes and handcuffs.

**Present Day**

Marcus squeezes your hand and his face flushes hotly, remembering every moment of his time with you. Your name comes off his lips quietly and he wishes that you were meeting under less public circumstances. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.” He segways lamely. “I tried to call you.” He blurts out. “The number you gave me was wrong. And I finally figured out what the real number was about a year later. By then I figured you had forgotten about Officer Pike.”

You stare at him in shock, unable to believe that you are seeing him right now. You clear your throat, glancing around to his colleagues and yours and you offer him a soft smile, “don’t - it’s okay. I understand. I just figured you changed your mind.” You shrug like it’s no big deal and he frowns but you stop him before he can respond, “do you want me to show you where the piece was that got stolen?”

Marcus snaps back into a more professional mode and nods seriously, reaching into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve a notebook and a pen. He likes to jot down his first impression of the scene while he’s there. “When did you notice the piece was missing?” He’s aware that you gave your statement to the local police but he wants to hear it straight from you. Unable to believe that the drunk tank encounter eleven years ago had turned into his victim on his latest case.

“This morning. I came into work as I always do at 8:40. I walked around to check everything was clean and in place and then of course I saw this piece was missing. I checked the security cameras but it’s been interfered with as it’s all fuzzy. I called the police right away, didn’t touch anything else, and they sent you over.” You tell him as you walk towards the area of the missing artwork, trying to conceal the way your hands shake from seeing him again after all these years.

Marcus nods, jotting down notes and he looks over the scene carefully. “When did the museum close last night? Are there any night shift personnel that clean or maybe a guard?” He wants to make sure that he does everything right and he can’t help but be a little flustered by you. He looks over at you and sees you shaking. “It’s okay.” He shoves the pen and the notebook into one hand and pats your shoulder soothingly. “I know that being robbed is a terrible violation but we are going to do our best to recover your painting.”

“There’s a night guard but he was sick and - he admitted to me he fell asleep for a couple of hours during his shift.” He mistakes your shaking for fear and you play into it, nodding and smiling in appreciation of him helping you with this situation. He’s the last person you ever imagined would be helping you find the art, especially after he never called and you had no way of getting hold of him. “Thank you.” You smile and he continues to assess the crime scene. Forensics comes in and you spend your work day with Marcus and his team working on finding the missing painting.

Marcus is delighted to find that the younger woman he had a brief liaison with has become a smart and capable woman. You are thoroughly knowledgeable about the museum you run and the staff. Even the maintenance schedules are quickly located and accounted for. You seemingly run a tight ship. “Okay. Have there been any visitors who have been unusually interested in the security? Asking questions pointed around the room that the painting was in?” He asks, wondering if there’s another possible angle to this.

You bite your lip, pondering the question before you turn towards Jenny, the new receptionist. “Didn’t you say we had a man come in and he was asking several questions about different pieces and you thought it was weird because he kept looking at the cameras?” You ask and Jenny nods. Marcus asks her to describe him and Jenny tries her best. While Marcus is writing down her description, you admire his profile, the way he’s matured into a handsome man and you remember the way he fucked you.

“If possible, can we see if the camera footage is still available from the days he visited?” A photo of the suspect is worth more than a description, but he hopes that the entire hard drive hasn’t been compromised. He looks up at you. “Do you know how far back the data has been corrupted?”

You nod, “about seven days. It’s spotty in the past 36 hours but it’s solid up until then. I’m not sure if they used some kind of tech to fuzz the cameras but it’s spotty at best.” You explain and look over at Jenny, “can you show office- Agent Pike to the security room?”

Marcus catches the slip up and his cock twitches, but he ignores it. He can’t go there with you. He’s in a relationship. Instead, he smiles and nods, thanking you quietly and following Jenny to the office so he can watch the videos with her to the approximate time the suspect was there.

You watch Marcus leave with Jenny and you check your watch, biting your lip. It’s getting close to four and you glance at your phone, wondering if you should call. No…Marcus will be gone by then. You keep glancing at your watch and finally Marcus appears, notebook in hand just as the door to the gallery opens. “Mom! Mom! Guess what happened? I made the team!” Theo announces as he runs into the gallery and over to you, your mom behind him carrying his backpack.

Halfway between the door to the security office and you, Marcus freezes. His eyes widen and he feels like he’s been kicked in the chest and he swears his heart stops. The boy, he’s guessing around ten years old, looks like he could be a copy of Marcus when he was a boy. Skin tone is different and there are small features that are a unique blend of your features, but he looks like him. There is absolutely no way that this child, this boy, isn’t his. His mouth drops open and he nearly chokes on his own breath.

You ignore Marcus, avoiding his eyes as you look down at your son. “Really? That’s amazing, baby.” You hug him, kissing his hair. He’d been so excited to try out for the baseball team and now he’s on it. You know it’s gonna be a lot of work to take him to practices and games but you don’t care, you want him to be happy. Your mom looks over at Marcus and back at you, her eyes wide. She sees the resemblance immediately and you told her about Marcus when you found out you were pregnant.

He can’t move, trying to process what the hell possibly happened and he’s immediately flooded with intense guilt. He had gotten you pregnant. He had gotten you pregnant and he didn’t call you. You didn’t have any way to get into contact with him and you had been a single mother for ten years. He knew you weren’t married, or at least he thought you weren’t. There’s not a ring on your finger, but you might have a boyfriend. He watches the boy, his son, closely. Absorbing every detail of his mannerisms and excitement as he talks about his obvious passion - baseball. The same sport Marcus had played in school.

You glance at Marcus finally, seeing his eyes, and you know he has figured it out. You swallow harshly and look at your mom who has questioning eyes. “Can you take Theo for a snack, mama?” You ask your mom who nods.

“You wanna go to the place on the corner for a snack, honey?” She asks Theo who nods, “can we, mom?” He asks and you smile, ruffling his hair, “of course.” Your mom takes him outside and you inhale deeply, turning to face Marcus. “We need to talk.” You tell him, “you wanna come sit in my office?”

He nods, not even able to put anything into words and follows you to the back. Your office is across from the security office and is neat. It’s obviously filled with personal touches. There’s a picture that is obviously from last Christmas of the two of you. Theo beaming as he holds a new baseball glove and bat. “I- does he- what’s his name?” He asks, once the door is closed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You can see he’s struggling but you’re hurt too. He didn’t call and when you found out you were pregnant, you were newly graduated and alone. Your mom helped, letting you move in with her and it’s been hard to get your career where you dreamed it would be all those years ago. “His name is Theo Lucas. He has my last name…obviously. It’s - you didn’t call and I thought that you - that you just asked me out to save face for a quickie in a jail cell.” You cross your arms and turn towards the closed door, “he’s - he’s the best thing that ever happened to me so I guess I should thank you for that night.”

“I want to meet him. Officially.” Marcus clarifies. “I didn’t know that he was - that you were pregnant. If I had I would have helped you, supported you, been there for both of you. “Please?”

You bite your lip, watching him with hesitation. What’s to say he won’t just take off again after Theo has gotten attached. You’re not sure if it’s sensible or really the actual reason why but the words “of course” escape your mouth before you can think about his. His answering soft smile makes your heart ache a little and you clear your throat. “I’ll give you my cell phone, proper numbers this time as we can talk.”

Marcus chuckles and reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out his badge folder. Pulling a card with his information on it and handing it to you. “This way the ball is in your court.” He offers. “Theo likes baseball?” He asks. “I used to play in high school and college when I wasn’t playing with my band.” He tells you. “Maybe I can practice with him or take him to a game? I planned on seeing the Rangers play this weekend.”

You bite your lip, looking down at his card. “I bet he’d love that.” You smile at Marcus and are terrified but excited for your son to meet his father finally. You’ve imagined it so many times and he has asked about his dad. You tried to explain it as simply as you can to a young child and you told him you and his dad had a brief relationship. It sounded better than what the reality is. “It’s good to see you again, Marcus.” You say just as his phone rings.

“Shit.” He jolts and reaches for his phone, glancing down at it and then giving you an apologetic look. “Hey.” He answers, a smile on his face when he speaks. “Are you finishing up for the day?” He asks, “I’m still working on a case.” Listening for a few moments he hums. “I’ll meet you there, okay. Sounds good. Bye.”

You see the look on his face and you know it’s his romantic partner. The look in his eyes is soft and sweet and it makes your heart twist even though he’s not yours, he never was. You just had one night. You wait for him to finish and he smiles at you after he shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry about that.” He says and you shake your head, “it’s fine.” He clears his throat, “so I’ll see you soon. For the case and for Theo. I will wait for your call.” He promises and you nod, twisting the card in your hand.

“I’ll see you soon, Marcus.” You promise and he gathers his things, bidding you goodbye and you sit down at your desk and close your eyes, hating how your heart twists at seeing him again.

Marcus makes his way out of the museum and when he gets into the car, he just sits for a moment. Absorbing the life changing information that he is a father. He wants to jump in and help and support you in any and every way he can. Feeling guilty for not knowing about Theo sooner. He knows he has to tell Teresa as soon as possible. Tonight at dinner. She will understand.

****

“You met my dad?” Theo asks when you discuss it at dinner.

“Yes baby. He’s - he - we lost touch and now he’s back. I got his number. He wants to meet you. He loves baseball too and said about taking you to a game. I- I know it’s a lot to take in but he wants to get to know you.” You tell Theo who frowns, looking down at his plate.

“Why now?” Theo asks and you clear your throat, “I told you…we lost touch.” You explain and Theo shakes his head, “he didn’t want me?” He asks and you reach for his hand.

“No. No. Not that. It’s complicated. Adult stuff you won’t understand.” You try again but Theo is pushing his chair back and rushing to his room, “you didn’t want me to know him!” He yells and slams the door, making you close your eyes and rub your head.

****

“I have something I need to tell you.” Marcus gazes at Teresa nervously over the votive in the middle of the romantic table at their favorite restaurant. He’s already had two glasses of wine because he’s excited and nervous. Reaching out, he takes her hand. “Eleven years ago, I had a….fling.” He isn’t going to give all the specifics, but Teresa deserves to know. “It was right before the FBI academy and somehow, the phone number I was given was bad, so it didn’t go beyond the one encounter.”

Teresa tilts her head and laughs. “Marcus, I don’t need to know about every person you slept with. We both have a history.” She assures him.

Marcus shakes his head. “No, I ran into her today. And….” He takes a deep breath. “I have a son. He’s just like me. I saw him and I-“ he shrugs. “I’m going to get to know him, become a part of his life.”

Teresa stares at Marcus in shock, looking down at their hands, and she swallows harshly. “How - you - um, that’s - wow.” She finishes lamely, still in shock. “That’s great, Marcus. Truly. That’s - I can’t wait to meet him.” She says, a little through her teeth but Marcus doesn’t notice as he beams, squeezing her hand.

****

You call Marcus the next day due to Theo constantly asking you when he’s going to meet his dad. “Are you free this evening?” You ask and Marcus holds the phone in his hand, “of course. I’m free.”

You smile, “great. You want to come over for dinner? Theo is excited to meet you. I told him we had a fling and tried to explain it as much as I could without getting into details.”

Marcus hums in agreement, “he doesn’t need to know the details, I don’t think a child would understand that yet.” He will follow your lead on Theo since you have been the one raising him. “Does he have a particular favorite baseball team?” Marcus asks. “I don’t want to come empty handed the first time I meet my son.”

You smile against the phone at how sweet he is. You remember that from that night, how funny and sweet he was even when he was wrecking you with his cock. “He loves the Nationals. My dad…he lives in D.C and has gotten Theo into his team, so yeah, Nationals.” You answer and Marcus hums, “Nationals, got it.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “so I’ll see you at 6?” You ask and he confirms. “Great. I’ll text you my address.” You say and bid him goodbye, hanging up the phone to quickly shoot him a text. You’re nervous and you know Theo is nervous, unsure of going to school today but you took him and he was fine once he settled in. You’ve got the day at work to figure out what to cook for the first time your one night stand meets his son.

During lunch, Marcus runs out to a sporting goods store to pick up Nationals gear for a ten year old. Then back to his apartment to pick up his own glove and some balls. If you’ve got a yard, he wants to get out there and throw the ball with Theo if he’s up for it. Your text comes through with the address and by 5, he’s leaving the office and plugging in the GPS to go to your house.

You smile as Theo rushes up to the front door when Marcus rings the doorbell. “I’ll get the door, sweetie.” You say, rubbing his shoulder and he’s practically buzzing as he watches you open the door. You send a silent prayer that this is gonna go well and you come face to face with Marcus, standing there holding a big duffel bag. “Come in.” You gesture and he steps in, clearly nervous, and his dark eyes find Theo. “Sweetheart, this is - this is Marcus. He’s your dad.” You introduce him officially and Theo looks at Marcus with wide eyes.

Marcus sets the bag down and kneels down so he can look his son in the eyes. The same shade of brown as his own. “Hello, Theo.” He offers quietly, beaming and trying not to cry. “It is so good to meet you. I brought my glove. If it's okay with your mom, after dinner we can throw the ball around?” He asks, glancing up at you for permission before looking back at him to see if that’s something he wants to do.

Theo beams, staring at his father, and he nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Mom - can we - can we go outside?” He asks you and you nod, “of course you can.” Theo surges forward to wrap his arms around his father, “hi dad.” He says into his father’s neck as he grips him tight, excited to have him there.

His eyes close and his arms wrap around Theo tight, holding his son against him. “Hey, buddy.” He chokes out, opening his eyes and looking up at you. He’s overwhelmed and emotional and it’s almost a relief that you are silently crying. He’s not being too much with his reaction to meeting the son he didn’t know about.

You wipe your eyes, seeing the unshed tears shining in Marcus’s eyes and you know in that moment that you haven’t made a mistake. You know Theo is going to have his father in his life finally. “Come on you two. Dinner will be ready soon. Marcus, what do you want to drink?” You ask after clearing your throat.

“Anything would be great, thanks.” He squeezes Theo once more before he pulls away to grin at him. “I brought you some presents. Although I know I have a lot of missed birthdays and Christmas’ to make up for.”

Theo grins, “lots. Ten years worth.” He says and you chuckle, “dad is here now and he brought you some presents. You wanna open them while I finish up dinner?” You ask Theo who nods and grabs Marcus’s hand to practically drag him into the kitchen.

“Come on dad, I wanna open my presents.”

It’s surreal to hear someone calling him dad and it makes him break out into a wide grin. He had managed to grab the duffel bag and he sets it on the table to open up and start pulling out gifts. He had thought he had gone overboard, but he doesn’t believe that now, the way Theo’s eyes are widening and he’s practically bouncing with excitement.

You get Marcus a beer and a glass of wine for yourself then set them down after getting a glass of milk for Theo. “Wow! I always wanted one of these!” Theo gasps when he sees the Nationals jersey and you feel a little guilty that you didn’t get the right one that he wanted. You got the Rangers and he was happy, but it’s not his favorite team.

“I’m glad. Your mom told me that you’re a big Nationals fan.” Marcus chatters nervously. “Now I have tickets to the Ranger’s game this weekend, would you want to go? Even if it’s not the Nationals? Since we are here in Texas?” It’s a commute to Ranger stadium and he would buy you a ticket if you preferred to come too, but he wants to give Theo that experience together.

You watch Theo bounce, nodding his head, “yes yes yes. Oh can I go mom? Can I?” He asks you and you nod, “of course baby. You can go.” You won’t deny him this time with his father and you know Marcus is a good man. He works for the FBI for goodness sake. “I’ll go get dinner. Sit down, both of you.” You order playfully.

“We better listen to your mom.” Marcus grins, happy that his son wants to go to a game with him. He reaches up and ruffles the boy's hair. “Let’s go wash our hands, gotta be clean to eat.”

You watch Marcus take Theo to wash his hands and you smile to yourself as you plate up the spaghetti and meatballs. The boys sit down at the table and you set the plates down in front of them. “I hope you like it. I didn’t ask if you were vegetarian. Oh shit. Are you? If not, I can make something else.” You start to panic a little, realizing how little you know about Marcus.

“No.” He smiles up at your reassuringly. “I love spaghetti and meatballs.” He looks over at Theo. “And I’m sure your mom’s is great, isn’t it, Buddy?” He asks.

“Oh yeah! Mom’s spaghetti is the best!” Theo cries out with a grin. “She puts extra cheese on top for me.”

You smile, loving that your son loves your cooking. You look at Marcus, “I put extra cheese on yours too.” You wink at him and watch Theo as he starts to dig into his food, hungry as always, “why don’t you tell your dad about school today?” You ask Theo, wanting Marcus to be involved in the small things like hearing Theo talk about his day.

Marcus listens intently, nodding while Theo tells him every little thing about his day. Grinning to himself when the boy would go off on a little tangent like he used to as he shovels in his food with the enthusiasm of a growing boy.

You finish eating while Theo talks about his school and his friends. You watch Marcus hang onto every word, nodding and responding like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard and that makes your heart thump. “Everyone done?” You ask and Theo nods, “thank you, mom.” He stands up to collect the dishes but you stop him. “Not tonight, honey. Sit with your dad. I’ll clean up.” You tell him as you gather the plates, “I have dessert too. You want ice cream?” You ask and Theo nods, eyes lighting up.

“Must be a special night.” Marcus muses. “Dessert too?” He grins when Theo bobbles his head so hard he might rattle some teeth around. “After we eat dessert, you wanna throw the ball?”

Theo thinks that Christmas has come as he nods and Marcus chuckles, “sure thing, bud.” You smile as you load up the dishwasher and listen to Marcus and Theo talk. “So why did you not stay with my mom?” Theo asks, always inquisitive and you wince slightly but leave it to Marcus to provide his own explanation.

Glancing up at you for permission, he knows he needs to tell his son why the two of you aren’t together. Why he’s never met him before. “I- it’s complicated.” Marcus winces, knowing that isn’t the best answer. “Your mom was wonderful. And I had plans to take her on a date, to spend more time with her, but I messed up.” Marcus stresses. He will take the blame, of course he will. “I wrote her number down wrong, and couldn’t call her. And I didn’t know where she lived.”

Theo stares at Marcus for a moment, absorbing his answer until eventually he nods and looks over at you. “Well, you’re dumb because my mom is amazing.” Your heart clenches and tears sting in your eyes at the compliment from your son and you look at Marcus with an apologetic smile.

“I know I am.” Marcus accepts that rebuke and nods in agreement. “Your mom is amazing and I have to thank her because she gave me a son.” He reaches over and pats your hand. “Thank you. For taking care of him while I wasn’t around and being amazing enough for him to defend you.”

You smile at Marcus and lean in to kiss Theo on the head as you slide the bowl of ice cream towards him. “Okay. Let’s eat some ice cream.” You declare, trying to lighten the mood and give yourself a moment as you hand Marcus his own bowl. “Toppings are yours to pick. We have chocolate sauce, whipped cream, nuts, and strawberries.” You say and Theo begins to put a river of chocolate sauce in his sundae. “Maybe we have enough sauce to go with the ice cream, huh baby?” You tease and he chuckles, setting the sauce bottle down.

“He’s a man with taste.” Marcus chuckles, amazed that he is sitting down and eating dessert with his son. “I love chocolate syrup too.” He admits, taking the bottle and turning it up over his ice cream. The little boy beams happily, loving that his dad likes the same things he does. It’s almost a family moment and he feels guilty that Teresa isn’t here to see it. “What else do you like? Whipped cream and a cherry? Or strawberries?” He asks, wanting to know everything about Theo.

“Whipped cream, for sure. And nuts.” Theo answers and reaches for a spoonful of nuts. You watch him and Marcus chuckles, “same. I do like strawberries but not on ice cream.” He says and Theo nods. You reach for the strawberries, “those are for me. I love strawberries.” Marcus nods and you watch him as he takes the spoon from Theo to cover his sundae with nuts. The ice cream goes down well and you’re soon putting the dishwasher on while Marcus and Theo go outside to play catch.

Outside, Marcus feels like he is living every ‘dad dream’ he’s ever had. It started with small tosses of the ball to warm up and he started asking questions. Theo’s likes, dislikes. His dreams. Favorite movies. Learning about the boy and hopefully bonding with him. They play until you come back outside as the sun starts to go down.

Marcus sits in the living room while Theo showers and gets ready for bed. He’s already done his homework and you get him in bed. “You want your dad to come and say goodnight?” You ask Theo after you kiss his forehead.

“Yes, please mama.” He murmurs and you nod, standing up and walking into the living room where Marcus is sitting. “He wants you to say goodnight.” You tell him and he stands up, rubbing his hands on his pants.

Marcus goes down the hall and hovers in the doorway for a moment, taking in the bedroom and smiling when he sees baseball posters on the wall. It could be a bedroom from his own childhood. “You all ready for bed, buddy?” He asks, coming and sitting on the edge and nervously rubbing the covers on the edge. .

“No.” Theo says and you smile as you lean against the wall in the hallway.

“I know, I’m never tired after a big day.” Marcus smiles and pats the bed sheets.

Theo nods, settling down against his pillow, “after you fight the bad guys?” He asks his father with a sleepy smile.

Marcus reaches up and brushes Theo’s hair gently. “After I fight the bad guys.” Marcus nods and smiles down at his son. “Goodnight Theo.” He murmurs softly, amused that despite being so adamant about not being tired, he’s already starting to fall asleep. Marcus sits with him until he’s completely gone and then watches him, amazed that he is here with a child who is his.

You push off of the wall as Marcus walks into the hallway and you smile at him, at seeing the way his eyes are soft and glassy. You reach out to pat his arm, “you want another beer? Or coffee before you go? We need to talk about how we move forward.”

“Sure.” Marcus nods and follows you back out to the living room and into the kitchen. “He’s a great kid.” He gushes after a moment. Standing around, he wonders where to go from here. “I owe you a lot of child support.” He blurts out, reaching into his pocket for a check he had written. “Obviously it’s not ten years worth, but I want to start making up for not being here.”

Your eyes widen at the amount of the check. “Marcus. No- it wasn’t - you didn’t know. I can’t accept this. You didn’t know about him. You didn’t dodge it and I’ve done well. My parents helped. Please…this is way too much.” You shake your head, knowing you could never accept his money when you had ten years with your son and he’s missed out on so much.

“Put it in a college fund for him.” Marcus shakes his head when you hold the check back out to him. “Please. I might not have known about him, but I know now. If I had known then, he would have had a college fund started from the day you told me.”

You can’t deny him that, knowing that your funds for his college are a little low after you have been working hard but it’s not enough, never enough. “Marcus. It’s - I’ll put it in the bank account I have ready for his college fund.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you.”

Marcus hugs you back, there’s nothing wrong with hugging the mother of his child. This is the woman who gave him the little boy in that bedroom. He tries not to remember how good touching you had felt all those years ago. That was past, and he is involved with Teresa now. “You’re welcome.” He murmurs sincerely. “I’ll give you more. I promise.”

You step back, patting his chest, “you’re just - I’m glad you’re in Theo’s life.” You step away and you make your way to the kitchen followed by Marcus. “Take a seat and I’ll get you a beer then we can talk details.” You watch him head into the living room and you grab two beers, making your way into the living room and you sit down on the sofa beside him. “So, uh, we didn’t exactly discuss our - our situations in life. I don’t have a husband or even a boyfriend. It’s been tough dating with a young son and I’ve been focused on work and Theo. I just wanted you to know that.”

“I’m sorry.” Marcus winces and shakes his head. “You didn’t deserve to be left with the responsibility by yourself.” He won’t let go of the guilt easily. “Maybe with some help, you can have some time for yourself.” He won’t say ‘date’, but that’s your decision. “I- I am in a relationship. Another agent.” He confesses, feeling guilty again.

You hate how your heart clenches at the news but you know he was never yours. “That’s great. I- I can’t wait to meet them one day. Did you tell them about Theo?” You ask, and Marcus nods, “she knows. Her name is Teresa.” He says with a smile that makes you want to cry a little. He’s such a lovely guy and he belongs to Teresa.

You know you can’t be an idiot, you have a child together that he’s just met. You need to be sensible. “So I want you to see him. We can work out a custody schedule in a few months I’d say once Theo is comfortable and I am. I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping him from you but I need him to be safe and secure and happy.”

Marcus holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Absolutely.” He agrees. “Theo has been your priority for ten years, eleven really.” He reasons. “You are his mother and I would never try to come in and immediately change everything. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to the game too?” He asks. “Since it’s a few hours away? He can say that he wants to go and then get nervous because I am essentially a stranger to him. Plus, I can see how you parent, because I want to work with you on raising him.”

You appreciate how accommodating he’s being, not demanding more when he hasn’t been here at all even though it’s technically not his fault. He’s missed out on so much but he’s still wanting to include you. That makes you warm to him even more and you nod, “I think that’s a great idea. Let's all get to know each other more. We didn’t exactly have an in-depth conversation before we had sex.” You fluster and reach for your beer to take a sip, “do you want to ask Teresa if she wants to come too?” You add, hoping he says no but she’s going to be part of Theo’s life and you need to assess her.

“She has a case that she’s working on.” Marcus frowns slightly and shrugs. “She’s going to have to be on a stakeout or something.” He had originally been going to go with her, and then he had considered selling the tickets when her plans had fallen through, but this is perfect. “What do you want to know about me?” He asks.

You are relieved that Teresa isn’t coming on this first adventure and you lean back against the sofa, tucking your leg up beneath you. “First of all…I didn’t - Theo is fine but do you have any medical family history? I know mine of course but I want to know in case there’s something I need to look out for.”

“Nothing really.” Marcus shakes his head and takes a sip of his own beer. “Grandfather died of a heart attack, but he was 87.” He shrugs slightly. “I can’t say that’s a short life. Parents are pretty healthy. I haven’t told them yet, but I know they will want to meet Theo, get to know him. When you’re comfortable.”

“I’d like that. Theo would love that. I have always felt so guilty that he hasn’t had a lot of family.” You confess, taking another sip of your beer, tears stinging in your eyes as you think about all the things Theo has missed out on with his father.

“You okay?” Marcus asks and you shake your head, a few tears escaping.

“I just wish - I wish I had given you the right number.”

“It’s my fault.” Marcus will readily admit that. “I should have double checked with you before you left. I had been trying not to seem too desperate, or creepy.” He shoots you a sardonic grin. “Since we had just had sex in a jail cell after you were picked up.”

You chuckle, wiping away your tears, “that was sexy as hell though. I still think about that night sometimes.” You admit until you realize what you said, “I’m sorry. I- you have Teresa and I’m not asking you to - shit. Have I made it weird?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He shakes his head and hums with a small smile. “It’s okay. I promise. I’ve thought about it before.” He admits. “It was sexy.” He doesn’t really think about it now that he’s with Teresa, but when he was single, it was one of his go-to memories when he wasn’t in the mood to look at porn.

You chuckle, “it was.” You nudge him and move to set your beer down. “I guess we go from here. I’ll see you Saturday for the game. Are you gonna come back to the gallery or is your team working on tracking down that guy first?” You ask, curious as to what’s going to happen with the stolen painting.

“They are working on tracking down the suspect, but I normally come check in every day, every other day.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “The worst thing for the victim is to feel like they are just bogged down in the system. Especially when dealing with art. It’s normally personal or professional so everyone is eager to know that it’s being taken seriously.”

You nod, “then I’ll see you in the gallery.” You shift to stand up, “I’m sure Teresa is expecting you to be home soon. Theo will be out like a light. Do you want some water for the ride home?” You ask, looking down at him.

“Oh, Teresa and I don’t live together.” It wasn’t for lack of planning but it hadn’t happened yet. Just wasn’t quite to that place in the relationship yet even though a lot of nights were spent together. “But I will take a water.” He agrees.

You walk over to the fridge to get him a bottle of water, admiring his profile as he gathers his things. “Here you go.” You hand him the bottle and your fingers brush his. “I’ll see you soon. Maybe…if you don’t see Theo, we can do daily calls? You can talk to him.”

“I’d really like that.” Marcus quickly agrees, happy that you are so willing to let him spend time with Theo and get to know him. “Thank you.” He murmurs as you walk with him to the door. “He’s a great kid and that is all because of you. I hate that you had to do it alone but you’ve done a fantastic job.” Mother’s Day will have to come early for you and he will have to make sure that it’s amazing to make up for the ones that he missed.

You fluster at his kind words, excited to see how this goes, and you are happy for Theo to have his father in his life. You know it’s been a missing piece. No matter how hard you try to cover both positions, you know he’s been jealous of the other boys going to baseball games with their fathers or going out with the father-son groups. It’s been hard and you try to compensate but it’s impossible.

Marcus pauses at the door, turning around and smiling at you. You had been gorgeous eleven years ago, hungover and obviously partying, but now you are even more beautiful. Maybe it’s because he had a child with you, but there’s a softness that he admires for a moment. He murmurs your name, “have a good night. Call me if you need anything, okay? I want to help anyway I can.”

You nod, crossing your arms as you lean against the doorway, watching him as he makes his way to his car. You bite your lip, admiring his broad shoulders, and you know you have to stop. You will not ruin your son’s relationship with his father because you haven’t had sex in a while. You watch Marcus, waving as he pulls away, and you shut the door, closing your eyes. “It’s gonna be fine.” You murmur to yourself, deciding to get ready for bed and watch your show to distract yourself.

On the way home, Marcus contemplates calling Teresa, but he doesn’t. Instead he thinks about the situation, knowing that he will have to tell his parents soon, and they will want to meet him. He knows they will have questions so he wants to talk to you about what to tell them.

****

“You having a good time?” You ask Theo as he takes a big bite of the hot dog Marcus got him. The game is in full swing and you love how Marcus and Theo are bonding over their mutual love of baseball. You take a few photos, certain that Marcus will want them, and you think about the past few days. You and Marcus established when Theo will meet his parents and the story you’ll tell them is the truth. Although it’s awkward, keeping secrets never helps anyone. You watch the father and son and feel emotional, wishing once again that Marcus had called you after that fateful night.

“Oh man!” Theo cheers when the home run cracks off the bat and he leaps out of his seat to watch it go flying over the left field fence. Marcus grins and looks over at you, emotional at how much he is enjoying this. Almost upset that there isn’t a team in Austin so this could become a weekly thing. He’d say that season tickets could be done.

“Looks like extra innings.” He teases, playing with Theo’s cap. “You aren’t gonna wanna miss that, are you?”

Theo shakes his head so hard his neck nearly breaks, “no, dad! Of course not!” He scoffs and you hide your grin behind your hand. You watch Marcus point out various players to Theo and they discuss the stats, both clearly knowledgeable and passionate about the sport and it’s making your heart nearly burst with joy.

Marcus grins as he leans back, looking at you behind Theo’s head. “If it goes too late, do you want to spend the night?” He asks, thinking about getting a hotel depending on how many hours it goes over a normal game. “I’ll cover the cost. Two rooms.” He offers, knowing it’s not right to stay in one room.

“Please mom! Please!” Theo begs, looking up at you with wide eyes and you nod, “okay baby. Okay. We can do that if it runs too late. I, uh, I don’t really have anything. We can stop at CVS to get a tooth brush and toiletries.” You say, unable to take away from this experience for Theo. “Are you sure Teresa won’t mind?”

“She’ll be alright.” He’s already texted her and let her know that it might be a possibility. She had said ‘okay’, so he knew she was alright with it. Teresa tends to speak her mind so he trusts her. “We can stop by a store and get some things.”

Finally the game ends and it’s late, way past Theo’s bed time and you can see he’s tired from the constant yawns but he’s fighting it. “Are you ready for bed, sweetheart?” You ask, hugging Theo as you approach Marcus’s car. “Maybe a hotel is the best idea.” You tell Marcus, running your hands through Theo’s hair.

“Yeah.” Marcus frowns slightly as he has spent the last twenty minutes of the game trying to book rooms. “There’s a hotel up the road I have a room booked for you guys.” He promises, turning towards his son and smiling at how sleepy Theo looks. “We’ll find a Wal-Mart and grab toothbrushes and PJs.”

“What about you?” You ask as you buckle Theo in and get in the front seat. Marcus bites his lip, not answering. “Marcus…” You raise your eyebrows, wanting him to answer you before you start to get frustrated. You’ve learned he’s a people pleaser and it’s to his own detriment sometimes.

“There’s….” He sighs and hangs his head. “There’s some kind of big conference this weekend.” He admits quietly. “Everywhere is sold out. I could only get the one room. It’s okay, though.” He assures you. “It’s a nice place and I can catch a few hours in the car. Not like I haven’t done that before.” He chuckles, making a joke about stakeouts.

"No. No. You - you are going to get some sleep. You've been driving and you are driving tomorrow. I- Theo will sleep between us. We can share the bed. We are parents sharing a bed with our son. You can't sleep in the car." You shake your head, whispering harshly as Theo is asleep.

Marcus frowns and shakes his head. “No, the room has two beds.” He reveals. “I just don’t think that you would want…you know that Theo might get the wrong impression.” He murmurs quietly, looking in the back seat and then towards you. He’s trying to be a gentleman and give you privacy. The only intimacy you’ve shared was the night you created Theo and he’s not going to assume you would be okay with sharing a room.

You bite your lip, "two beds is perfect. I can share with Theo and you get to spread out in your own bed. He won't - we can explain that there was only one room left. He knows you are with Teresa...he wants to meet her."

“Are you sure?” He asks seriously, turning expressive eyes on you. He’s thrilled to learn that Theo wants to meet Teresa, because he wants her to get to know him, but he is talking about the hotel sleeping arrangement. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nod, chuckling softly. "I don't think you can make anyone uncomfortable, Marcus. You are the most caring man I can think of. We will be fine." You promise. You give Marcus a list of what you need and he goes into Walmart to get your list. You watch Theo sleep in the mirror and about ten minutes later, Marcus is pulling up at the hotel. You grab the bags after Marcus checks in and comes back out. "Can you carry Theo?"

“Of course I can.” Marcus beams as he opens the back door and starts to gently unbuckle the sleeping child and pull him out of the car. “He’s solid.” He grunts, grinning at you as Theo snuggles against his dads shoulder and grunts at being disturbed before settling back down into a limp mass of limbs.

You smile, watching Theo wrap his arms around his dad who carries him to the room. “Notice I didn’t offer.” You tease softly and pat Marcus on the shoulder as you take over finding the room. Once you’re inside, Marcus lays Theo down and you work on removing his clothes to dress him in the pajamas his dad had just bought for him. “Night, my love.” You murmur, kissing Theo’s head after you cover him up with the covers, the. you look over at Marcus who has removed his shoes and is watching you with apprehension. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Thanks for buying these.” You hold up the shorts and tank top, feeling a little awkward but it’s necessary for Theo to get some good sleep.

“It course.” He nods, feeling bad that he always carries an overnight bag in the car. “I’ll change quickly while you’re in there and then we’ll get some sleep.” He offers, trying not to think about the mechanics of all of this. This is just two parents sharing a room with their son.

You brush your teeth and wash your face, coming out of the bathroom in the tank top and shorts and you had told yourself in the mirror that this isn't a big deal. It's Marcus and Theo. You get under the covers on the side closest to the nightstand since Theo shifted in his sleep and you look over at Marcus. "Goodnight." You murmur, your eyes finding his in the lamplight.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” Marcus whispers softly, smiling at you as he reaches over to switch off the light. “Thank you for today. Letting Theo come to the game.” He shuffles and settles in the dark. “Might be the best day I’ve ever had.”

“Me too.” You answer honestly and you smile when you hear him snore. You listen to him and Theo breathe for a while until you finally close your eyes, wishing this was real, that you were a real family.

****

The next morning is fun, if not a little hectic. Getting up and getting ready without crowding each other in the bathroom proves interesting and the two of you decide to take Theo out to breakfast before getting back on the road to Austin. Taking your time and enjoying the Sunday brunch, Marcus can’t help but laugh at your jokes and enjoy that you have such a warm and delightful personality. Making him wonder what would have happened if he had gotten your number right. Would you two be married right now? Would there be another child besides Theo? He hates thinking that way, since he’s involved with Teresa, but it’s there in the back of his mind.

You hate how natural this feels with Marcus. It should be awkward. After all, he fucked you while on duty in a jail cell, yet it feels like you’ve known him forever. You smile as Theo tells his dad about his favorite show and you realize it’s gonna be hard to meet Teresa, to meet the woman that has Marcus. “Shall we get on the road?” Marcus asks, pulling you out of your thoughts, and you nod, gathering your things. The drive home is filled with music and Theo chattering away and you can feel Marcus look at you every now and then, his hand on the gearshift and it makes you want to reach out and place your hand on top. “Dad, can you come to my game on Friday?” Theo asks, “with Teresa?”

“I’ll have to check with Teresa, but as long as nothing comes up with your mom’s case, I’ll be there.” He promises, looking in the rear view mirror at his son’s hopeful eyes. “Sometimes the bad guys don’t stop being bad to do fun things, but I will never stop trying to make sure that I am there.” It’s important to him that Theo knows that. “Even if I’m coming in at the end or having to duck out early, I will be there as much as I can.”

He knows it’s a hollow promise to a ten year old, but he also wants to make sure that he knows that sometimes dad’s job has to come before other things. It’s one of the downsides as far as Marcus is concerned.

Theo nods, “okay, dad.”

You look behind you to wink at Theo, “if not this game, the next one.” You compromise with your son, not wanting him to put all his hopes on this one game when Marcus could be working. You turn back to the front and Marcus nods, sending you a silent thanks.

****

“Come on Theo!” You cheer, watching your son run to third base and then “home run!” You shout and clap your hands. Marcus hasn’t arrived yet, he texted to say he’d be late and he has a lead on the mysterious man who was in the video.

Marcus pulls into the parking lot, rushing out of the car and takes a moment so he can lock his gun in the glove compartment and take off his jacket. Rushing over to the ball field that you had told him. He managed to catch Theo sliding into home and cheering. “Yeah! Theo! Way to go buddy!” He stands at the fence and beams at the boy as he stands up and brushes himself off.

Theo sees his dad and his face lights up. He’s covered in dirt but he looks on top of the world. You clap and cheer your son and suddenly Marcus appears beside you. “Hey!” You greet him and glance around, your brow furrowed as you look past him. “Teresa couldn’t make it?” You ask him.

“She had to work.” Marcus frowns slightly but he shrugs. “She said that she would like to go out to dinner with you and Theo.” He offers, although he had been the one to suggest it. She had been a little distracted when she agreed, but she had been rushing to get off the phone to talk to Jane.

You nod, “that would be nice. I want to meet her.” You say even though you’re not entirely convinced. Teresa doesn’t seem to want to meet. She’s avoided every opportunity to meet Theo and you are worried she won’t accept your son.

“I think you’ll get along well.” Marcus hums, even though he’s starting to get antsy about the two of you meeting. He’s spent a lot of time with you lately and while she understands, it seems as if there’s not been a lot of time for them. He doesn’t want her getting worried about things.

After the game is over, you take Theo for ice cream to celebrate and Marcus is a little distracted, looking at his phone. “Everything okay?” You ask and he nods, “yeah. I’m fine.” He says and you don’t push, knowing he has a lot on his plate.

Marcus gets the alert that there is a name on the suspect, as well as a current address. He hums and looks up, smiling at Theo and you. “Tomorrow, I might be a little out of pocket.” He announces to you. “We are going to question the man from the security surveillance.” He tells you quietly while Theo is distracted with his ice cream.

Your eyes widen slightly, “wow. I hope - hopefully something comes from it. The artist is freaking out and I’m struggling to keep him calm enough to keep his other pieces in the gallery. We had to reassure him that our security has been reinforced.” You confess and Marcus nods, “we will get him.”

Marcus hates that he had been late, finding it to be too little time with Theo. “Sorry I was late, but I’m glad to see that home run. Those batting drills are paying off.”

“Yes they are.” You smile, happy that Marcus and Theo have already bonded. You are a little sad that your son has missed out on so much with his dad but you are happy he’s here now.

****

“You got him?” You gasp when Marcus comes into your office before telling you he has found the perp who stole the piece.

“We got him. And the art. He had it in some storage unit out west, waiting until the dust settled so he could sell it.” Marcus tells you and grins.

“Oh my God. Thank you!” You surge forward to hug him, relieved and happy that the piece has been found.

Marcus grins and hugs you back. Rubbing your back gently and nodding when he pulls back. “Obviously the piece will be photographed and logged into evidence for authentication, but once that is done, we will return it to you. The pictures from recovery will be enough for the DA.”

You kiss his cheek as you pull back, “thank you. Thank you.” You squeal, not even thinking about kissing his cheek until you hear a throat clear behind you. You turn to see a woman, her eyes flicking between you and Marcus whose eyes widen as he looks at the woman.

“Teresa. Come here.” He gestures her over and introduces you. You aren’t sure if she is upset or doesn’t like you being near Marcus but she’s polite yet aloof when you get to finally meet Teresa.

Teresa slides up beside Marcus and looks up at him in amusement. “Good news?” She asks and Marcus nods.

“We recovered the painting today.” He tells her and her slightly bland smile turns genuine.

“That’s great.” She murmurs, knowing how good a closed case is for an FBI agent. She wraps her arm around his waist and hugs him tightly before she looks towards Theo. “So, this must be Theo.” She grins, bending down slightly. “Your daddy talks about you….a lot.”

“My dad doesn’t talk that much about you.” Theo answers honestly and you clear your throat, offering Teresa an awkward smile, ruffling Theo’s hair.

“It’s great to meet you.” You tell her and she nods, “you too.” Theo steps closer to you and you nudge his back, silently telling him to be polite and he looks at you with those same brown eyes as Marcus.

Marcus chuckles quietly, admitting that is true but Teresa just smiles. “I’m sure he has more to talk about with you than me.” She tells him before looking back up at Marcus. “Are we ready to go eat?” She asks. “I’m starved. Jane had us mucking through a field rather than having lunch today.”

You notice the frown on Marcus’s face as he hears the name Jane and he’s told you about Patrick Jane a few times, about how he feels like the man is trying to get involved in his relationship with Teresa.

“Let’s go to dinner.” You declare after you grab your purse and Theo starts to chatter to his dad about the upcoming game.

****

“So, uh, yeah. I haven’t given them my final decision since I wanted to talk to you first.” You tell Marcus as you sit on your sofa. Theo just went to bed and you asked Marcus to stay a little longer so you can talk.

“The Smithsonian. Wow.” Marcus says softly, looking across the room.

“Yeah. It’s - it’s huge. Modern art and I- it’s in D.C and I want Theo to have his father in his life but this job - it’s double my salary now and it’s the freakin’ Smithsonian. If you don’t want me to take the job, I understand, but Marcus…I want this. Not to guilt trip you but I’ve lived my life for Theo since I found out I was pregnant and this - this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

Immediately shaking his head, he hums in disapproval. “No, no, you should absolutely take it.” He insists. “There’s airplanes, we can visit.” He cocks his head and thinks about it for a moment. “There’s rumors of a position opening up in DC, that I’m also rumored to be in the running for now that my latest case has been solved so quickly.” He admits. “Maybe I can push for that position. You wouldn’t find it creepy if I moved to DC too? Follow you and Theo?”

You shake your head so fast it almost makes you dizzy. “You move to D.C? Marcus - that would be - I would love that. I don’t want Theo to lose his dad just when he’s got him. I want you to come to D.C with us…you and Teresa.”

“I’ll talk to Teresa.” Marcus nods. “If I get that position, it’s a director's job, I can pull some strings and get her a job at headquarters.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face, “you are amazing.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll tell them I’m taking the job. We can figure everything out.” You promise and his phone starts to ring. “I’ll let you go home.” You say, standing up and he follows suit, deciding to silence the phone call so he can say goodbye.

“We will work it all out.” He promises as he walks with you to the door. He’s eager to get home and see about putting in for the position. He has a few friends in DC that he can call and have a conversation with.

****

Teresa is shocked when Marcus asks her to move to D.C with him, even more shocked when he proposes. She isn’t sure about the move to D.C but she can’t let him go. He’s a good man and although you and Theo aren’t her ideal, she’s reluctant to let Marcus go.

When you hear about Marcus getting the job in D.C, you are ecstatic. When you hear about Marcus and Teresa being engaged, you try to be happy for him, but it’s hard. Teresa doesn’t seem to be on board about being a stepmom to Theo, nor does she seem able to tear herself away from Patrick Jane. You’re worried about Marcus getting hurt but you don’t want to say something in case Marcus turns against you. You can’t get involved for Theo’s sake. You often imagine being a family with Marcus and Theo but you’re not an idiot. Marcus loved Teresa otherwise he wouldn’t have asked her to marry him. You sigh and continue to pack. Theo has finished the school year and you threw a goodbye party for him, you leave tomorrow and it’s bittersweet but you’re excited for the future.

“So I’m going to go ahead and find us a place.” Marcus chatters with Teresa. “I’ve already got listings booked and I’m thinking of a house, at least three bedrooms.” He tells her. “I want a room for Theo, let him come over and spend the night, give his mom a break and let us bond together.” His apartment is packed and organized, ready for the movers to pick up. “What do you think?”

Teresa bites her lip as she holds her cell phone, Jane gesturing for her to hurry up as she shuffles her feet in the airport in Miami. “Yeah. I, uh, that sounds good. Marcus…I gotta go. This case…I’ll see you in D.C, yeah?” She says and Marcus frowns but doesn’t voice his annoyance, “sure. Speak later, honey. Love you.” He says and she hums before she hangs up the phone, following her partner out to their hired car.

****

“Oh my God, he did.” You nod, laughing alongside Theo and Marcus as Theo talks about his friend shoved a marble up his nose and you had to call his mom while taking the boy to the ER after you couldn’t remove it. Marcus shakes his head, laughing at Theo’s face.

“I told him not to do it.” Theo mumbles and you chuckle, stopping when Marcus’s phone rings.

“It’s Teresa.” He says and stands up, making his way into your new living room to take the call. “Hey.” Marcus smiles as he answers the phone, happy to see Teresa’s name pop up. She should be about to take off to come to D.C. He doesn’t quite understand why she called him a few hours earlier talking about coming sooner, but he’s happy. “You about to take off? I can’t wait to see you. You should see the new place.”

Teresa looks up as Jane runs onto the plane and she can hear Marcus talking to her but she doesn’t respond. Marcus frowns when he hears Jane say “I love you” to Teresa and that’s the moment he knows it’s over. He won’t be seeing Teresa in D.C. He guesses he should’ve seen this coming but a small part of him wanted him to be the one who comes out on top, who gets the girl for once. “Marcus, you okay?” You ask, “your ice cream is melting.”

“What?” He’s staring down at his phone, frowning at it and then looks back up at you. “Oh, oh yeah.” He shakes his head, plastering a fake smile on his face. “Everything’s good.” He motions back towards the kitchen. “Let’s go eat before it’s ice cream soup.”

You don’t believe that everything is fine but you don’t press as you walk back into the kitchen and Theo has already eaten half of his ice cream. “Where’s my cherry?” Marcus asks and Theo bites his lip.

“Theo!” You reprimand the ten year old and Marcus shakes his head, snorting, “it’s fine. I’ll just have to have yours.” Marcus plucks the cherry from Theo’s sundae and the boy cries out in protest.

“It’s not nice to take without asking, is it?” Marcus asks and Theo shakes his head, “no. I’m sorry, dad. You can have the cherry.” Theo shakes his head and Marcus places the cherry back in his son’s bowl.

“You can have it but don’t take.” He teaches him and you nod, amazed at how far Marcus has come in being a father. It makes your heart thump and your stomach twist but you shove that aside.

He manages to eat his ice cream without causing his son to worry but he can feel your eyes on him. Wondering what is wrong since he’s not acting like himself.

After ice cream, Marcus and Theo clean up the kitchen together. Marcus knows it’s important to have his son help you out and it’s good for him to see that a man should help with household upkeep. “Go tell your momma goodnight and get ready for bed, buddy.” He ruffles Theo’s hair after he dries his hands. “Thank you for helping.”

Theo comes rushing over and wraps his arms around you. “Goodnight mom.” He says and you bend over to kiss his hair, “go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll bring you some water and Dad will tuck you in.” You promise and Theo rushes off to the bathroom. You glance over at Marcus who is still in the kitchen, shoulders hunched. After Theo is in bed, you and Marcus bid him goodnight, shutting the door, and you walk into the living room and spin to face Marcus.

“What’s happened?” You ask, knowing there’s something wrong.

His eyes slip closed and the tight rein on his control slips. He sighs and seems to just wilt under your gentle probing. “Teresa-“ he chokes out. “She’s- she’s not coming to D.C.” He turns and stumbles a few short steps to the couch and sags down into it, hunching forward and plopping his head into his hands, elbows on his knees.

You frown, sitting down beside him and you place your hand on his back. “What do you mean she's not coming? Is her flight delayed?” You ask, confused and wanting to comfort Marcus. He seems distraught and you feel helpless.

“She-“ he shakes his head and looks up, his eyes slightly watery. “Apparently Jane is in love with her and….” He shrugs. “She’s going to stay in Texas, with him.”

Your heart breaks for him, “oh Marcus. I- I’m so sorry.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around him, wanting to comfort him. He doesn’t need your opinion of Teresa or the situation, you know he needs you to just be there for him. “She’s a fucking idiot to pick Jane over you.”

“I should have known it wouldn’t be …” he shakes his head again. Not willing to burden you with the second thoughts that had plagued him and the terse unspoken things between him and Teresa. “It’s who she wants. I don’t want to be second place.”

You caress his back, resting your head on top of his shoulder. “You’re not second place. She didn’t know what she had. Jane is gonna break her heart. You were too good for her. Anyone could see it. Marcus…you deserve better.” You voice some of your opinion of Teresa, not wanting to say you think she’s a heartless bitch.

“It’s my fault.” Marcus groans, embarrassed that you are seeing this. Seeing him wallow like this. He should have just gone home. Now you are going to think that he is some kind of sap. Or worse, a horrible example for Theo. “I should have seen the signs. They were there.”

“She should’ve told you. She shouldn’t have dragged you along. She shouldn’t have accepted your proposal or agreed to move to D.C with you. I don’t see how this is your fault when you gave her every chance to say no. She should’ve backed out long ago if she was in love with Patrick Jane. She led you on and you should never blame yourself for that.”

“I should have ended things when I found out about Theo.” Marcus rambles on, appreciating your comfort but he always blames himself. “Concentrated on that. Instead of thinking about having it all.”

You huff, “finding out about Theo doesn’t change anything. She - Teresa didn’t exactly seem enthusiastic to get to know him and - and as his mother, I could sense that. You can have it all, sweetheart. You will. She just wasn’t the right one. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t want to be bringing women in and out of his life.” Marcus reaches out and he takes your hand, turning it over and kissing the back of it. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but I should go home.”

You nod, knowing he probably needs to go home and have a drink. “You’ll find the right one, Marcus. You deserve your happy ending.” You tell him, leaning in to kiss his cheek as he stands at your front door. “Go have a whiskey and pass out and tomorrow, wallow. Don’t force yourself to be happy, go lucky. You can be mad and upset.” You remind him, knowing he will try to push it aside.

“Thank you.” Again, the thought of where he would be if he had called you floats through his head but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not in the right headspace to say anything and you’ve never even hinted that you wanted anything to do with him. Besides, he doesn’t want a rebound. “I’ll see you later.” He pulls away and stands, grabbing his jacket and shuffling towards the door.

You watch him go and close the door, your heart breaking for him, and you want to fly to Miami and strangle Teresa for hurting him. He deserves more. You often wonder what life would've been like if he had called. Would you be married? Or would you be divorced? It’s hard to imagine you’d divorce Marcus. You know he’s gonna wallow and you make your way to bed, knowing you’ll be there for him no matter what.

****

“Hey.” Marcus has been wallowing for two weeks and he’s tired of feeling down and letting his personal life affect his relationship with you and his son. “What are you doing this weekend?” He tucks his phone against his shoulder and waits for you to answer. He’s gotten tickets to a Nationals game and wanted to take both of you.

You glance around your office, watching your staff walk down the hall through the window. “Nothing. I was gonna take Theo to the park, maybe get some brunch. What are you up to?” You ask him and he tells you about the baseball game. “Well you know Theo will love that.” You smile, “we haven’t been to a game here yet.”

“I’ve got three tickets.” He doesn’t say that it was for Teresa, because he had just bought them. “So I was hoping that you would come with us? Make it a group outing? Unless you want to take the time and have some alone, non-parental adult time for yourself?”

You bite your lip and know you’d love to spend some time to yourself but you also don’t want to miss out on spending time with Theo, and with Marcus. You want to discuss doing the DNA test to get shared custody of Theo so Marcus can spend more time with his son. “I’d like to go. I know Theo will love it and I think we could all use some time to enjoy ourselves.”

“Great!” He knows you are probably still worried about him, you’ve been texting him everyday. Checking on him and he appreciates it. He could have never imagined a better mother for his child or a friend. It makes him kick himself in the ass sometimes for not finding you after that night.

****

“You’re going undercover for a month?” You ask Marcus, arms crossed. It’s been three months since Teresa broke his heart and you’re worried he’s doing this because he wants to distract himself. You’ve been trying to keep him occupied, going on picnics, going to museums and the movies. All with Theo. It’s been hard to not want more from him but he’s emotionally drained and you have to put Theo first. “

“Yeah.” Marcus hates that he has to do this, but it’s also a good thing. He’s started imagining you as a complete family and he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s using you to get over Teresa. “Apparently there’s something that I can be good for.” He jokes quietly and flashes you a grin. “I’ve been sitting behind a desk too much lately.”

You don’t want him to go, you know undercover missions are dangerous and he won’t be able to communicate with you or Theo for the time that he’s gone. “You- you really want to go? I- Theo is going to miss you. So am I.” You admit, biting your lip as you stare at him.

“I’ll miss you both too.” That is easy to confess. “I will be safe, but honestly?” He sighs. “I’m the only one that can go in. My team isn’t exactly unknown in the art world.”

You nod, knowing you can’t stop him, this is his job. “You wanna stay for dinner and you can say goodbye to Theo?” You ask, a little annoyed that he waited until the day of to tell you but you can see he’s been nervous.

“Sure.” You step forward to touch his upper arm, “you’d better not be killed, Pike…otherwise I’ll murder you.” You threaten playfully as you make your way to the kitchen to begin dinner while Theo sits at the table finishing his homework. Marcus chuckles like he was supposed to as you both walk into the kitchen.

“Hey buddy.” Marcus’ smile immediately brightens when he sees his son sitting at the table.

“Hey dad.” He glances up and grins before he’s looking back down at his work sheets.

“I wanted to talk to you before dinner.” Marcus sits down and waits until Theo puts his pencil down. “Buddy, I’ve got to go out of town for work. A big case and I’ve got to be out of touch. It’ll be for a month, and then I promise I’ll be back and you and I are going to spend a ton of time together.”

Theo frowns, “a whole month?” He asks and Marcus nods. “Why?” Theo whines and you turn to look at him in warning for his tone.

“I gotta go fight bad guys. I can’t - I promise you I’ll spend as much time as possible with you when I get back.” Marcus promises and Theo pouts, “I don’t want you to go! You’re gonna disappear and I’ll never see you again.”

“That won’t happen.” Marcus promises, shaking his head. “If there’s an emergency, I’m going to give your mom a number so my work can get me a message.” He explains

You walk over to rub Theo’s back, “it’s okay, sweetheart. Your dad will be back before you know it. He’s gotta go fight bad guys and he’s gonna come back and spend so much time with you. Maybe you can stay with your dads for a change.” You give Theo something to look forward to.

“We could do that?” Theo asks hopefully and Marcus nods.

“Of course. I want you to stay. I want you to have your room set up just the way you want it.”

You nod, “your dad and I will talk when he’s back about spending some nights together. Boy time without mama.” You wink, and Marcus smiles at you before you finish cooking dinner. After you eat, it’s time for Marcus to go and you watch him say goodbye to Theo for the month.

There are extra long hugs and Theo tears up, but Marcus is right there with him. “I love you, buddy.” Marcus promises. “I’m going to be back as quickly as I can. And I’m going to be thinking about you all the time.”

You watch them say goodbye with tears in your eyes and you know it will be hard for Marcus and Theo to be away from each other. They are so close now and you wonder how they were ever apart. Marcus kisses his forehead and you watch Marcus as steps towards you. You wrap your arms around him and you breathe him in, holding him close before he leaves for at least four weeks.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” He doesn’t hesitate to kiss the top of your head. “Take care of our boy, okay?” He asks softly, wishing that he didn’t have to go.

You step back and you pull Theo into your side as Marcus grabs his jacket. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises both of you and Theo’s lower lip trembles as he watches his dad leave.

“It’s okay baby.” You promise, pulling him into your arms to comfort him. You know he loves his father and if you’re being honest with yourself, so do you.

****

The month seems to drag by and you decide to put up a calendar so Theo can cross off the days until his father is supposed to be home and finally, it’s that day. You are anxious, waiting for Marcus to call to say he’s coming home and finally, when the phone rings, you grab it so fast it nearly drops out of your hand. “Marcus.” You sigh, relieved when he says hello. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” You ask, desperate to hear that he’s fine.

“Hey.” Marcus grins, even though he’s exhausted. He just got out of a long debriefing and still has to fly home, but he wanted to hear your voice and Theo’s. “I’ve got a flight in about ten minutes. I should be back in D.C. late, but I was wondering if I could come over and see Theo? And you?”

You glance over at your computer, a little lost in the fact that he’s okay. Your pounding heart calms a little and you exhale softly. “Of course. Theo will be mad if I don’t let him see you as soon as you are back in D.C. Come over when you’re back. Theo can take the day off of school tomorrow and we can do something together to celebrate you being back. How long is the flight?” You ask and Marcus pauses, “I, uh, actually I’m flying from Austin. Had to go do a deposition. Figured I’d head straight there after the op ended to get it out of the way.” He confesses and you bite your lip, a little mad that he didn’t call first thing.

“Oh, okay. Well, uh, I’ll see you soon.” You say and he clears his throat, “yeah. There’s something I wanna talk to you about. See you later.” He says vaguely and your stomach twists. What could he possibly want to talk about?

You mull it over for a couple of hours until it hits you. “Teresa.” You choke, he’s getting back together with her. Something in your gut just tells you that’s what he wants to discuss.

On the flight, Marcus mulls over what he wants to say. He’s missed you. A lot. Not just Theo, but you as well. You’ve been on his mind constantly, wondering if you’re cooking dinner or curling up with your phone to giggle at videos that you’ll share with him. He realized over the last month that he’s been gone, he’s in love with you. It’s been hard to not call you and tell you, but he decided it was better to do it in person. If you don’t feel the same way, he won’t try to convince you. He’ll concentrate on helping you raise Theo. But he’s come to view the three of you as a family. The family that he’s been supposed to have all along.

The doorbell rings and you smile when Theo rushes to the door. “Hold on, sweetheart, let me check who it is.” You look through the peephole and your heart thumps as you see Marcus, looking different with a beard. You open the door and Theo rushes out, “dad!” He shouts and wraps his arms around Marcus.

“Hey buddy!” Marcus rushes towards his son and scoops him up into a crushing hug. Feeling instantly better now that his little boy is in his arms. “God, I missed you. I thought about you every day. Talked to you at night before I went to bed.” He pulls back and grins at the boy. “Have you been good for your momma?”

Theo surges forward to hug his dad again, reluctant to let go so you answer, “he’s been good. Been making a list of things he’s wanted to talk to you about so be prepared.” You joke and Marcus chuckles, “I got all the time for you, bud. I have the next week off so I’m all yours.”

You are relieved to see Marcus and he steps forward to kiss your cheek while holding Theo close to his side. “Hey sweetheart.” He murmurs and you smile at him, letting him step into your apartment.

“Come in, I’m just making dinner.” You tell him and shut the door behind him when Theo takes his hand to practically drag him inside.

Marcus chuckles and shakes his head. “You missed me?” He teases playfully but Theo just scoffs.

“Of course I missed you dad. I didn’t have anyone to play catch with.” He sends you an apologetic look. “Mom tries but she’s not as good as you are.”

He ruffles Theo’s hair. “That’s okay. Mom’s great at a lot of other things.”

You nod, “exactly. Who else is gonna make your lunch just how you like it? Daddy doesn’t know how to cut off the crusts.” You tease and Theo shakes his head, “I don’t want that anymore.” He lies, “I’m a big boy.”

You snort, “sure thing baby.” You wink at Marcus as the boys sit at the kitchen table and you grab a beer for Marcus and a juice for Theo.

“What did you do, dad? Did you fight the bad guys?”

“I did.” Marcus smiles a thank you towards you as he takes the beer. “But first I had to convince them that I was a bad guy too.” He admits and Theo’s eyes widen.

“But you are the best!” He cries, making Marcus feel so very honored that his son thinks so highly of him.

“I was just trying to get them to tell me all the bad stuff they were doing. And I did it. So I got to arrest them.”

“That’s awesome!” Theo cheers, a wide grin on his face and you are glad that Marcus is back with his son…for now at least. You work on dinner, listening to them catch up and when you sit down, Marcus asks how you’ve been. “Same old. Work has kept me busy. Trying and failing to play catch with this one keeps me occupied.” You tease Theo who looks down at his plate with a little remorse at his comment. You wink at him when he looks up to show you are teasing and he starts to dig into his dinner. “I, uh, had my mom come stay for a weekend. She looked after Theo while I went out with some work friends.”

“That’s great.” Marcus’ smile tightens slightly, wondering if it was a date. He doesn’t have any reason to be jealous, but he would love to take you out. To give you a kid free night and explore what could be between the two of you. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah it was good.” You nod, “Theo had a good time with his grandma, right?” You ask the little boy who nods, “she gave me soooo much chocolate.” He says and you chuckle, “and she was told it was too much.” You remind him and ruffle his hair.

You finish eating and Theo is reluctant to go to bed but you soon convince him to shower and get ready for bed so Marcus can go lay in the bed with him until he falls asleep. “Night, my love.” You kiss Theo on the forehead and pat Marcus’s side as he lays down and pulls Theo close to continue talking.

“Dad?” Theo asks softly.

“Yeah?” Marcus murmurs back.

“Mommy missed you.” He reveals without you knowing.

“She did?” Marcus’ heart leaps in his chest but he focuses on his son, brushing his hair back. “Why do you say that?” He asks quietly. He wonders if you just agreed that you missed him when Theo said something or if you had been upset that he wasn’t around to help.

“She would stare at that photo of the three of us, that’s in the hall. She’d cry and think I couldn’t see it, hear her.” He whispers, innocent eyes wide as he looks at his father.

“Oh.” He closes his eyes and nods. “I understand.” He whispers, leaning in and pressing his forehead against Theo’s. “I’ll make sure I make it up to her too.” He promises. He knows how much Theo loves his mom. You’re easy to love.

Theo snuggles into his chest, closing his eyes. “I love you, dad.” He murmurs, falling asleep moments later. When Marcus comes out of Theo’s room, softly shutting the door behind him, you look up from your phone. “He asleep?” You ask and Marcus nods, “out like a light.”

You smile softly, setting your phone down, “he’s missed you so much.” You tell Marcus who comes to sit down beside you.

“I missed him.” He says and you notice him hesitating.

“Marcus…do you have something you need to tell me? Because I’d rather you just rip the bandaid off if you’re gonna be moving back to Austin, back to Teresa.” You spit out your worries, unable to stop it.

“What?” Marcus’ eyes widen and he’s bewildered until he remembers that he had told you that he was flying back from Austin. “No, no, I’m not getting back together with Teresa.” He promises. “I’m not going back to Texas. I want to stay here with Theo. And you.” He takes a step closer to you. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been gone.”

You look up at him, your brow furrowed and you wonder what he’s talking about. “Me too. I want - I want us to have shared custody of Theo. Officially. I want you to be listed as his father and I want you to be able to have all the rights a father has.”

“Is that all you want?” He asks softly, knowing that he’s putting his heart on the line. “I want- I needed that time apart.” He admits. “I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t just feeling grateful for you after Teresa, but I know that I - I’m in love with you.”

You stare at him, in shock and your jaw drops slightly. “You- wait - you - Marcus?” You ask breathlessly. He fidgets, looking like he’s regretting telling you but you shake your head and surge forward to cup his cheeks, bringing his eyes back to you. “I love you for the brilliant agent you are. I love you for how kind you are. I love you for what an incredible father you are. I am so in love with you, Marcus Anthony Pike. You are the one that got away but you’re back now and I’m yours if you want me.” You promise him, voice steady as you give air to the emotions that have been plaguing you since long before Marcus left to go undercover.

His brow furrows and he pulls you closer, feeling both incredibly frustrated for all the time you’ve lost together and relieved that you feel the same way. He whispers your name. “I love you.” He promises before he ducks his head and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is sweet and full of yearning. You and Marcus may have started off as a purely physical encounter but these feelings are the culmination of months and months of friendship and respect. You sigh into the kiss, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest and you can feel how fast his heart is thumping.

“Baby.” He pulls away and kisses down your jaw. “I love you. I just- I wanted to make sure -“ he groans again and his hands slide down to the very cusp of your ass. “I’ve felt so guilty. Because I wanted our little family to be real.”

You whimper when his lips kiss down your neck. “Marcus. Whatever happens- we - we agree that Theo comes first but - I really want to take you to my bed right now.” You admit, “and do naughty things to you.”

He groans against your pulse, unable to deny the fact that his cock is twitching. He’s had sex with you once and it is one of the highlights of his sexual experiences. So he might be a little nervous that he doesn’t live up to your expectations. “Let me make love to you.” He begs, scraping his teeth over your sensitive skin and grinning when you shudder. “I promise it won’t be the last time we are in bed together.”

You should be worried that this will change everything and if anything happens between you and Marcus, you put Theo in the middle. However, you don’t feel scared, you feel like this is meant to be. You feel like you belong with Marcus, in his arms. The love you feel isn’t fleeting or a honeymoon phase, it’s deep and real. “Take me to bed.” You request softly and Marcus takes your hand, guiding you to your bedroom. He’s been in here before but mainly to help with DIY stuff and when you’ve been putting laundry away. He shuts the door behind him while you shift towards the bed and when he walks over to cup your cheeks, you suddenly go a little shy.

“Hi.” You murmur when his nose nudges yours. Marcus chuckles softly, “hi.” His response is soft and sweet, making you lean forward to press your lips together while your fingers work on the buttons of his shirt.

It’s slow. An opposite response to the first time that you were together. He wants you completely bare, he wants to be bare. He wants this to be what it should have been that first time. Sighing when your fingers brush his bare skin, he reaches for your hands and brings them up to kiss your fingers. “I’ve dreamed of touching you again so many times.” He confesses. “I want to make this good.”

“It’s you. It will be good because it’s you.” You promise him, your fingers caressing his jaw while his hands let go of yours to find the hem of your shirt. You let him pull it over your head and his hands caress your spine while they slide up to the clasp of your bra. “God, I love you.” You sigh after he removes your bra and he’s dragging you against him, your chests pressed together and your confession comes seconds before his lips find yours again.

Your taste is intoxicating, his tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours. Keeping it lighter, but the hunger is there, just simmering beneath the softness. His hands roam over your back before he slides them down to unhook your pants. “I want to taste you.” He groans against your lips. “Thought about it that night. Just spreading you apart wearing my cuffs and tonguing fucking your cunt on that jail cell bed.”

You moan softly at the memory of that night. How feral and rough it was. “Fuck, I- I think about that night all the time. When I- when I use my vibrator. Remember how you felt, the way you touched me. How you sounded.” You confess while he pushes your pants down and you step out of them to leave you in your underwear.

“I want to touch all of you.” He groans. “I wish I had just stripped you down. Fuck getting caught. You are gorgeous.” His hands caress your stomach, in awe that this body gave him Theo so long ago. “I can’t tell you how many times I jerked off thinking about that night. What I would have done if I had you again.”

“Shit, Marcus.” You pant, loving the dirty talk that’s spilling from his mouth and you reach down to squeeze his hard cock through his pants. “Always imagined sucking your cock. Wanting you to cum down my throat. So much I want you to do to me and me to you. Fuck.” You gasp when he bends over to take your nipple into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair and push him further into your chest, your body almost shaking from the sensation after so long without physical touch.

He can’t help but groan when you tangle your fingers and tug. You hadn’t touched him that night and all of your previous touch had been innocent and friendly. Suckling hungrily, he bites down on your nipple gently and then soothing it with a loving lick. Imagining them filled with milk for his son. Imagining seeing you pregnant.

“Marcus. I want - I want to see all of you.” You plead when he lathes your other breast with attention until you’re pushing him back. You reach for his belt, unbuckling it and working fast to unbutton his pants. Reaching in to wrap your fingers around his cock that you never got to touch the first time.

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses, his hips rocking up. “Jesus, baby.” He lets you take control, knowing that you had been at his mercy the first time. He owes you this. “Sit on my face.” He begs, willing to do whatever you want but he wants his tongue into you.

You won’t argue with him, letting go of his cock to push your underwear down and he works on pushing his pants and boxers down, struggling to kick off his shoes until he’s left in just his socks and he’s in too much of a hurry to remove those. You watch him lay down and you kneel on the bed. “Fuck, I want to suck your cock too. Didn’t get a chance to.” You say, bending over to run your tongue along the underside of his cock as it rests heavy on his lower stomach.

“Fuck.” Marcus moans, nodding almost dumbly as your tongue presses against the head. “Whatever you want. I just want to make you feel good, baby”

You nod, shifting to straddle Marcus’s chest. You want to suck him off but you remind yourself that you don’t just have one night, you have as many as he will give you. You slow down a little as you sit on his chest and his hands grab your thighs, shifting you until you are hovering over his face.

“Jesus Christ, you have such a pretty cunt.” Marcus groans before he lunges up and dives into your folds. Sliding his tongue through the wetness and moaning at your taste.

Your hands find your headboard, a moan escaping your lips as his tongue dives deep. “Fuck! Marcus!” You cry, throwing your head back and you realize you were too loud for sleeping Theo. You bite your lip, trying to remain quiet and rocking your hips down to meet his eager tongue.

Marcus groans, his hands coaxing you to ride his face. He doesn’t want you to suppress your noises, he wants to hear all of them. Cock throbbing as he probes deeper into your cunt, his chin grinding against your clit.

You let go of your lip as you can’t help the moan that escapes you as you grind down onto his face, his hands squeezing your hips with encouragement and you whimper when he nudges your clit just right.

Chuckling, Marcus makes sure that you are still getting that pressure that makes you whimper. Watching your ass move as you rock on his tongue, lost in pleasure. He wonders when the last time you had someone do this for you. He knows it will be something regular now, as long as you want it.

His chuckle vibrates through you and you reach up to squeeze your own tits after letting go of the headboard, your head thrown back as you grind onto his face. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna - Marc - oh shit.” You squeal and clamp down on his tongue, soaking his face as you cum with a low moan.

He swears he could cum from just that alone. Groaning and continuing to make sure that you have the best orgasm you can possibly experience. Slowing his tongue and just keeping you shaking as you ride it out.

You take a moment to savor the feel of him before you bend over, taking his hard cock into your mouth with renewed vigor after he made you cum so hard. His answering groan makes you work harder, shifting off of his face to take him deeper.

“Baby.” He gasps, reaching down and cupping your jaw. “Holy shit.” His eyes roll back in pleasure when you flick your tongue over his frenulum and suck on the tip. “Not- not gonna last if you do that.” He pants, wanting to be inside you when he cums.

You reluctantly pull off of him, shifting to straddle his thighs, his cock pressed against your stomach as you lean down to kiss him. Again, there’s no rush as you languidly caress his tongue with yours. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur against his chin. “I have an IUD. I know we never discuss anything sexual but it’s been a while for me and I’m clean.” You haven’t been a nun since Theo was born, managing a few nights out with coworkers or friends while your mom babysat back in Austin and you ended up having sex before rushing home to relieve your mom, never taking it beyond that for Theo’s sake.

“I love you too.” Marcus promises. “I- I got tested after ending things with Teresa.” It was a part of the work up for his undercover mission, but he had been planning on scheduling it anyway. “I’m clean and I trust you completely. You know that. Or you should.”

You caress his chest after you sit up, “I trust you with everything I am.” You promise him and his answering grin makes your heart thump. You shift up onto your knees, reaching between you to grip his cock and you position him at your entrance, sinking down onto him with a moan as he slowly stretches you out.

Marcus watches in rapture as your face twists up in pleasure at the fill of him. “I love you.” He groans, caressing your side and smiling up at you as you adjust to him. He wants you to take your time, whatever time you need. He wants you to have the exact pleasure you want tonight.

You take a moment to adjust to him, he’s long and you feel like he’s already in your guts. You caress his chest and close your eyes for a moment, just feeling him. Finally, your thighs touch his and you open your eyes to look at him. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You admit after you lift up, slowly, and you feel him dragging against your walls as you sink back down onto him.

“You feel good.” He groans. “You felt so good that night, but now.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hips. “I love you. Fuck baby, you look so good. You belong right there.”

Your heart pounds as you look down at him, your hand sliding over his chest to feel how his heart beats and you love the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “It was meant to be. That night. Us having sex. Having Theo. It took a while but this is where we belong.” You murmur, grinding down onto him.

“Yes it is, baby.” That he’s now completely certain of. “I want to make a real family with you.” He knows that serious conversations need to happen, Theo’s best interests need to come first, but he wants you to know how serious he is. “Us baby. The three of us.”

His words make tears spring in your eyes and you bend over, cupping his cheeks so you can kiss him. “The three of us. A family, oh God. You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined it. Maybe…maybe one day…another baby. If it works out.” You suggest, “want you to be there for it all.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you rock back onto him.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans and his cock twitches inside you. “I hate that I missed it. I would have waited on you, hand and foot.” There’s nothing he wants more than to see you growing his child, but maybe there can be another one sometime soon. If you want. He would love it. “Want to marry you, baby.” He coos.

His words make you shiver at the idea of being Mrs. Pike, but in the best way possible. It’s something you’ve definitely thought about, you’d guiltily admit that you thought about it when he was with Teresa. You rock back onto him, your chest still pressed against his. “I want to be yours, Marcus. In every way. You are - fuck - you are everything I want.” You promise, leaning closer to kiss along his neck.

The moment lingers and it’s everything that he’s wanted. The sensation more than he had with Teresa. He knows that now. His hands slide up your back, tongue pressing against the dip in your shoulder.

You are breathless as you rock on top of him, “Marc.” You moan as your body shakes above him, getting closer and closer as the angle hits just right and his pelvis is rubbing against your clit. You bury your face in his neck when you cum. It’s slow and intense, making your entire body vibrate as you feel it from your toes all the way to your head. It’s dizzying and you shudder as you try to work yourself through it.

“Good girl.” Marcus moans, closing his eyes and feeling your body shake and shudder as you softly come down from your high until you are limp on top of him. “God, you are so perfect.”

You tilt your head to kiss him, enjoying the feel of him inside of you and the lingering haze of your orgasm. His tongue slides against yours and you’re in no rush. You have all night and hopefully every night from now on. His hands caress your back until he pulls back from your mouth and rolls you over, his body hovering over yours. “You gonna make love to me?” You ask softly, fingers caressing his lips.

“I am.” Marcus leans in and nudges his nose against yours. Pressing his lips to yours in a petal soft kiss before sliding his hand down to lift your thigh onto his hip. “Want to make sure you know exactly how I feel about you.”

You caress his shoulders, “show me.” You order, wanting to experience Marcus like this. After so many months of pining for him, watching him with Teresa. You finally have him and he’s taking his time to make sure you know how he feels. When he starts to move inside of you, it’s slow and you feel every ridge and vein of him. “Shit.” You pant, tilting your head back.

He keeps his lips on your skin. Trailing kisses up and down your throat as he slowly rocks into you. Just slow enough that you feel him move but he’s not even built up anything that could be considered a pace. Feeling like he’s home and relishing it.

You keep your head tilted back so he can kiss along it, making you sigh and your hands caress his shoulders before sliding up to his cheeks, bringing his face to yours so you can kiss him. You wrap both your legs around him, wanting him to be even closer and he barely moves as your tongues slide against each other.

It’s like time doesn’t matter right here, and it doesn’t. The fatigue, the sorrow, the loneliness all evaporate as the two of you slowly move towards that pinnacle together. Almost more emotional than physical as he wants to stay buried inside you.

You shift your hips and Marcus moves a little faster, sensing what you need without you saying it, and you whimper when he shifts deeper inside of you. The pace is still leisurely and your lips hover against his, eyes closed as you breathe him in.

“Fuck, I love you.” Marcus promises, rocking slowly and tightening his hold on you. Feeling like he’s in Heaven. “This is- everything to me.”

“Me too.” You promise in return, caressing his shoulders and back as he rocks into you and he’s still in no rush. “You’re everything to me. You and Theo. My - my fucking world. Would do anything for either of you.” You vow, clenching around his cock.

He hums, knowing you mean every word you say. You have been nothing but truthful with him. Good to him when he didn’t deserve it and he’s honored that you fell in love with him.

When Marcus picks up the pace a little, you tighten your grip on him and can’t stop the little moans that escape your lips. “Oh God. Yes, right there.” You murmur, lost in the pleasure and the emotion as he pushes deep inside of you.

“There?” He grunts, biting his lip and concentrating to make sure that he makes you cum again. His arms brace his body up above you, still close as he works his cock in and out of your tight cunt. “Fuck, one more baby.” He begs. “Give me one more.”

You can’t speak as he hits the right spot over and over. Your stomach twists and your thighs tighten around him as he pushes deep until you are clamping down on his cock. Your head thrown back as you cum, gushing around him as a silent cry of his name graces your lips.

“Oh god, baby.” He groans, and presses his lips to yours as he starts to feel his own orgasm start to take over. “I love you, I love you so much.”

You watch him as he cums, his eyes squeezing shut as his jaw drops after he pulls back from you and you squeeze him within your walls, wanting to milk him for everything he has. Your hands caress his shoulders, sliding down his back. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.” You promise against his chin .

Panting, Marcus smiles and kisses your lips again. “I can’t believe that we are here like this.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I think that the best thing I did was watch the drunk tank that night.”

You cup his cheek, “I think the best thing I did was go out to celebrate my graduation. It’s been - it’s been a wild journey but I wouldn’t change anything. I love you and Theo so much. My world. I want to be your wife, I want to have more of your babies. I want you. Forever. Marcus, I fucking love you.” You declare breathlessly and he grins, pecking your lips.

“You’ll get everything you want because that’s what I want. You’re what I want. You and my Theo. You’re everything.” He promises and you pull him close, his cock still inside of you and you know that you were always meant to belong to Marcus and him to you. It took eleven years but you and Marcus are finally where you belong: together.

#pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike imagine

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pedroshotwifey · 3 months

Text

One Condition

This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)

Word count: 4.9k

Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.

A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣

*****

“Um, Marcus?”

You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you.

“Yup.”

It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place.

It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface.

Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going.

Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable.

Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in.

You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section.

“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.”

You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.

“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.”

Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact.

You gape at him.

“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!”

He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved.

“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful.

You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge.

“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.”

You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.

Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop.

“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?”

Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this.

“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?”

He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought.

“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks.

“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.”

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.

“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute.

Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.”

Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt.

“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—”

“Shit, Marcus!”

You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him.

“Are you okay?”

He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces.

“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air.

You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries.

“Does anything hurt?”

“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.”

You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.”

“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.”

He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.

“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.”

You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine.

“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.

“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.”

You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion.

“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?

You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face.

“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course, you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.”

You shake your head as your mouth goes dry.

“Is—is he going to be okay?”

The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you.

“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.”

“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus.

The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up.

“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?”

You both shake your heads.

The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him.

“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.”

You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well.

“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless.

“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?”

You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn.

“I–uh…”

You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing.

The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders.

“Yeah, we are.”

The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out.

“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?”

You and Marcus exchange yet another glance.

“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say.

“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before.

You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap?

“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.

Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him.

“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression.

“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.”

You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in.

“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.”

You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish.

“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.”

“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.”

“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!”

“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.”

“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to.

You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here.

“Fine. But not him.”

Ezra’s smile broadens.

“Very well, gem. Right this way.”

He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist.

As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it.

He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–”

Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances.

“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure.

You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body.

You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense.

“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.”

You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful.

You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing.

You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything.

“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.”

If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.

Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him.

It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”.

You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”

You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it.

Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.

“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you.

“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question.

Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly.

“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest.

Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits.

“You want this, gem?”

You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips.

He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out.

Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants.

“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way.

“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker.

Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable.

It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.

You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace.

“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.

You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat.

The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm.

Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud.

Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat.

It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan.

His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts.

“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass.

You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra.

“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.”

He smirks at you as your cheeks heat.

You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all.

He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation.

Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out.

“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.”

You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock.

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you.

“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you.

You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them.

The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to.

You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach.

Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side.

The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase.

A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends.

Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass.

Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close.

Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not.

You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute.

The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along.

When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet.

Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.

***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?

Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this fic!!

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creedslove · 8 months

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i feel like marcus p would be the only girl dad that would dress up like a little princess, let his daughter put make up on him and sit in a tiny ass chair having a tea party

Marcus Pike x f!reader

A/N: this is too good anon 🥺

• Marcus is a girl dad™ and there's no argument about it; we know he's a very gentle and lovely man who knows how to treat women like princesses even when they don't deserve it (Teresa, anyone?) so imagine how he would act towards his daughter

• I mean, from day one, that tiny little thing would have Marcus wrapped around her tiny little finger and he would be sold, not being able to ever say no to her

• he would be honestly the best dad in the world, his life goal would make her happy for the rest of his days because Marcus never thought it could be possible to love someone like he loves his daughter, and he is thankful to you for giving that happiness he thought he would never have it

• so let's start with the fact that he always gets extra emotional when he realizes how fast his baby daughter is growing, his newborn turned into a baby and that baby turned into a toddler so quick it made his heart ache

• so he vowed himself to do anything in his power to make her happy

• which means that whenever you three are home, all you can hear it is

"daddy can we play dolls?"

"daddy can we play princess?"

"daddy can we watch baby shark?"

• and all of it is followed by your daughter's expression

🥺

• which she took after her father by the way

• and obviously that Marcus will never say no to it

• so you will find your husband Agent Marcus Pike head of his own FBI department, squeezed into a tiny little chair during a tea party with your daughter and some stuffed animals

• or you will find him with glittery eyeshadow because your daughter was playing with makeup

• or you will find his nails painted in a sloppy way because she found your nail polish stash and now she thinks they are so fun

• or he would wear one of her tiny princess crowns because she is playing princess and her daddy has to be the king

• you watch them both amused, knowing that you couldn't have chosen a better man to become your husband and father of your children, Marcus Pike was godsent to you and you love and appreciate him every single day ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york headcanon #dave york headcanons

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popcornforone · 4 months

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The Diary

A Marcus Pike Fan Fic Serise

Marcus is the softest nicest person in the entire world. He’s just adorable & deserved better so that’s what I’m going to write. 12 chapters of joy. Let’s make our man feel so happy.

Synopsis:- It’s 2024 & you keep a journal of your year. But there’s certain days where your partner Marcus Pike makes you feel extra special.

Warnings:- DON NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!This is a Diary so jr written from readers point of view so it says I. PIV sex, established relationship, slight age gap reader is mid 30s Marcus is early 40s. Swearing & alcohol. Each chapter will come with a more specific warning.

Progress update:- April is published & May is in draft stage

Thanks as always for the read peoples. All feed back is welcome, I hope you enjoy.

1) January

2) February

3) March

4) April

5) May

6) June

7)July

8) August

9) September

10) October

11)November

12)December

#pedro pascal #fanfic #my fics #smutt #no minors #pedro pascal cinematic universe #over18 #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fan fic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike fic #marcus pike fanfics

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rhoorl · 9 months

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Week in Review | Sept. 3

Happy September and welcome to another week in review! This past week had been circled on my calendar for a while. Do you ever have those weeks that you know are going to be an absolute cluster? Well, that was this week for me at work. On top of that, we had a hurricane to track...luckily we are all safe!.

I was so overwhelmed by all of the messages and comments sending good vibes my way this week. It seriously gave me some much-needed wind in my sails. Anyway, here we go to my fic recs and other fun stuff under the "read more" because I'm apparently super long-winded this week in everything I do 😆

Fics I read this week:

Three of my absolute favorite fics posted final chapters this week. Congrats to Megan, Mel, and Jo for wrapping up the main stories, and I'm looking forward to your epilogues and anything else you share!

Frankie Morales

The Layover by @goodwithcheese - I’ve been shouting about this one for a while now and Megan just keeps knocking it out of the park. While I’m sad that this story came to an end, I’m so excited to reread it and for the epilogue. (I'm especially keen to reread that scene where Frankie and the boys clear the yard)! 😉

Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading - Another great Frankie fic that I’ve been following for a while! Frankie deserves the world and this story is just so sweet! The epilogue Mel posted was just … ugh so good! It made me feel every emotion. And she also posted a behind-the-scenes post that was so interesting and insightful. I love seeing how others organize and work on their stories.

Just a Number by @linzels-blog - There was a fun little extra published this week about a girls’ night that was especially fun! I'm loving Frankie so much in this.

The Pilot and His Girl by @avastrasposts - If you’ve followed me for a while, you know I love this TLOU/TF crossover so damn much. And with the inclusion of a couple of Millers into the story recently I’ve been over the moon.

Javier Peña

Late Night Texts by @mvtthewmurdvck - The concept for this fic is so good and I love how the relationship between these two evolved. I was an utter mess reading the last chapter. Bravo!

La Camisa Negra by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - I feel like a moth called to a flame anytime there is a mention of black shirt Javi … and now there's a whole one-shot dedicated to it 🫠. Speaking of Angela, she put together a compilation of her favorite Frankie fics and was sweet enough to include Delta Landscaping, so thank you!

It’s Never Too Late by @javierpena-inatacvest just gave us all of the content this week! Besides, the main story there was also this ask called Again that made me lose my damn mind! 🫠

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

The House by @gemmahale. Chapter 3 was posted this week and it was a fun journey through time to see how OFC grew up going to her adopted grandfather’s farm which was located next to the Stateman Distillery.

Marcus Pike

Sick Day by @trulybetty - Our favorite FBI agent is under the weather. I just love the fluff and domesticity of this, there's nothing like someone taking care of you when you're sick. 🥹

Dieter Bravo

I am deep in my Dieter feels these days with Working Title and as a result, I haven’t been reading much with him. The only exception is Destiny & Deliverance by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings - Ugh, this one is so good! Between all of the teasers and hints dropped along the way, I’m so intrigued to see where this one is going!

Benny Miller

I’ve been in the deepest of deep dives with all things Garrett Hedlund, particularly Benny Miller. I just have to show this post again and the photo that came out with Garrett and Charlie (and then the subsequent video of Garrett at the roller rink). I mean, sir, are you serious?! I’m still not fully recovered. Thank you @musings-of-a-rose for giving me a crash course in all the Garrett content I've missed … and for letting me run feral in your DMs about this man 😂 Also, today is Garrett's 39th birthday, so yay. I hope that he has a great day!

Anyway, @wildemaven posted a one-shot titled Supply & Demand that shows Benny at his best - sexy, charming, and sweet.

Things I watched:

I didn’t really get a lot of TV in this week that wasn’t the 100th rewatch of Frozen for my daughter. We have tried to sprinkle in some other movies like Tangled and Zootopia, but Elsa is her girl and who are we to deny her?

Last week, I talked about the method my husband and I use to go and see movies. This week, I went and saw The Curse of the Demeter. I know this is based on a chapter in Dracula, but I’ve never read it, so I can’t give any insight as to how true to the text the movie was or wasn’t. It was fine. Like, it was suspenseful…not super scary (I mean, you know it’s Dracula and he’s going to bite people). If I had to put it on a scale of 1-5, it would be like a 3. Perfectly fine movie, but there are other movies I’d tell you to go see first.

My husband went and saw The Haunted Mansion after I raved about it last week and he confirmed a lot of my thoughts, especially that LaKeith Stanfield is amazing in it.

Not in theaters, but I watched Mojave last night - that scoundrel Garrett Hedlund strikes again, but Oscar Issac is in it too! I liked it, but then again it may have been because of how hot Garrett looked and sounded in it! I mean look at this man:

Things I'm excited for:

Tonight I’m going to my first-ever Halloween Horror Nights event at Universal. We have a babysitter so mom and dad are ready for a date night! The only mission I have is to do the Last of Us house. There’s also some cool Last of Us-themed food that I want to try as well. I’ll report back and share some photos if anyone is interested. I'm sure to be channeling my inner Pedro-at-the-Beyonce-concert and saying "I'm fucking dying" at how amazing it's all going to be.

Fic updates:

Both WIPs had new chapters this week! I keep adding ideas for future one-shots and possibly a series, I’m not quite sure yet. I need to concentrate on the two I have going right now though! Thank you to everyone who has read and left me feedback and sent messages - it means so much!

Anyway, that’s all for me! If you made it this far, thank you for reading my ramblings. I hope you have a great week!

#rhoorl week in review #pedro pascal fanfiction #garrett hed

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lionlena · 14 days

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Headcanon: Marcus tells you about his meeting with Teresa...(MarcusPikexf!reader)

Since you liked the first part so much, I decided to add something more to this situation. Domestic fluff.

On the way back home, your toddler's mouth wouldn't close. You watched in awe as Marcus listened to everything patiently while driving the car.

At home, as promised, a delicious dinner was waiting for you.

And you didn't have to worry about anything. Marcus even took care of your son's evening routine. He bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and read him a bedtime story.

You knew he was a great father to your son. And soon he will also be the perfect daddy for your little daughter.

You were just finishing applying lotion to your pregnant belly when Marcus walked into the bedroom. He looked so comfortable in a t-shirt and sweatpants. And yet it didn't escape you that he was a little tense. You noticed it at the station.

Marcus looked at you tenderly and sat down next to you with a quiet sigh. You immediately grabbed his hand and asked:

"Have you had a hard time at work?"

"No… It was actually fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you seemed tense at the station and then on the way home."

Marcus immediately felt his heart warm. You knew him so well that you noticed even the slightest change in his mood.

"It's about that woman you asked about."

You frowned and had to remember. This woman was so insignificant to you that you had already forgotten about her.

"The one with the sour face… What's wrong with her?"

"It was Teresa… Teresa Lisbon."

You immediately sighed, understanding who this woman was.

"Oh, baby… I'm so sorry."

You placed your hand on his cheek.

Marcus smiled warmly and placed his hand on yours.

"I'm not sad… That's not the point. My broken heart was healed a long time ago thanks to you."

He turned his face to the side and kissed your hand.

"So what is it about?"

"She upsetting me. She acted like I was some backup boyfriend she could always go back to… I should have said so many rude things to her…" A hint of anger crossed his face as he remembered her inviting him out for a drink. "I should have screamed in her face that I have the greatest wife in the world and that I would be a complete idiot if I left you for someone like her… But…" He sighed heavily. "I was so shocked I didn't do it."

His confession touched you. This is your husband. Your beloved Marcus, who always wanted to tell the whole world how much he loves you. You knew that on his desk at the FBI office, he kept your wedding photo, a photo of all three of you, and, recently, a photo of ultrasound. (He will probably add a photo of your newborn daughter soon.)

You cupped his face in your hands and said calmly.

"Honey, your actions are much louder than your screams. Believe me… Teresa saw it all perfectly. She saw a loving husband and father. A man who has everything. Family, love, job, and future."

Marcus smiled widely and kissed you on the lips. Your words gave him so much comfort. But after a while, the worry returned.

"You are not angry at me?"

"For what, darling?"

"That I didn't tell you right away."

You shook your head. You really didn't feel angry. You understood why he didn't tell you right away.

"It wasn't the right time there at the train station. I know you didn't want to hide it from me."

Marcus kissed your hand and nodded.

"Exactly. I just wanted to take you home as soon as possible and enjoy you, not talk about someone who really is nobody to me."

He leaned back on the pillows and pulled you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head.

"Thank you for being such a wonderful wife and always being able to put my mind at ease. I love you, my love."

"And I love you."

Marcus began to tenderly stroke your belly. He rested his head on yours and closed his eyes. There was no reason to worry about anything.

Teresa was a hazy memory, a woman not worthy of his heart.

Now he had everything in his arms, his whole world. And he wasn't going to lose it.

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike headcanon #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #teresa lisbon #Marcus deserves the world #domestic fluff

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kayleezra · 10 months

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Someone New (Part 2 to Someone Else) // (Marcus Pike x GN!Reader)

(not like the fun Hozier song unfortunately)

Word Count: 5,248

Warnings: nada unless you count angst and self-esteem issues 👍

Summary: so… I can’t thank those enough that hyped up the last part and thus encouraged me to write a second one! I truly had no intentions to continue it but then it was so well received I had to! If you’re wondering how I wrote self-esteem issues so well, it’s because I’m self-projecting 😌

AND I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, LIFE IS A B!TCH (there will be a part 3)

I can be better. I can be whatever they need me to be. People will only stay if I create my worth by being useful. I can be useful. I am useful. I’ll become whatever people need. People deserve what they need, I’ll give that to them no matter the cost. I’ll be what you need me to be.

You want to sleep away from Marcus, you want to be alone, to be allowed the space to process what you’ve just been told. You find some solace on the couch but it isn’t far enough to allow yourself to cry. Marcus will hear, you don’t want him to hear.

Marcus lies alone, hating himself, not for telling you but for even getting distracted in the first place. Now the bed that’s usually warm and full of love is cold and he can feel your warmth pulling at him from the living room where you lie. After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, he gives up.

You can’t sleep, your mind is swirling with things you could have done differently. Should’ve dressed nicer for him, he always said he loved when you dressed down because it was your ‘truest self’ but looking back on it… he was probably bringing attention to it in hopes you’d notice and change it. Been more spontaneous and fun, why stay in and cook for each other when the whole world is just outside your door? You rip apart everything, everything he’s said or done. How long ago did this all start? How far back do you have to be unsure of his words and actions?

The hurricane of thoughts, slamming against the inside of your cranium, comes to an unsettling halt when Marcus enters the doorway. He looks like a mutt hoping to be adopted: scared, guilty and hopeful. And yet… when you see him… your chest tightens and your mind is screaming at you and at him to the point where your thoughts are incomprehensible.

“I know I don’t deserve… I-. will you please come to bed? I- I can’t sleep when uh- when the bed is just so empty and cold,” he looks at the ground and rubs his neck uncomfortably, “we don't have to cuddle or anything I just-” he scoffs at himself. He can't believe he got up and would ask you this. “You know what, forget I said anything,” he says before turning around.

You wanted to find solace alone but… you also don’t want to push him further away than he already is. So you get up from the couch and walk to the bedroom, once filled with dreams that you now know will never come true and thus the guilt that comes with it. Marcus is surprised by your appearance and clearly happy but he holds himself back he knows things aren’t the same and he doesn’t have the right to want you close. So he lets you lay in bed next to him with a distance that says ‘divorce parents’. You’re scared this is worse than the physical distance that distanced the two of you into separate rooms. So you move towards him… with a hesitation that says ‘happily married with 2 kids’. You’re scared of losing him and at this point will do anything to keep him so you sleep next to him as though nothing happened. You even bring your arms around him and hold him as if you love him the same, as if he still loves you the same.

You just have to pretend to be happy and then one day… you’ll believe it. If you just keep pretending that things are fine for you… then they will be. While also improving yourself to ensure Marcus stays interested, of course… but right now you play the part of pretending so that everything’s fine.

Just pretend that Marcus's touch doesn’t feel like betrayal. Just imagine that it’s yesterday and everything you thought you knew is still true. You’re happy and Marcus is happy and the two of you are happy together.

Emotional exhaustion is the only reason that you end up asleep. You didn’t feel tired, but then again a lot has happened in the last few hours that you didn’t see coming. You know you’re mentally and emotionally exhausted because you’re in bed with him. Because you didn’t stand for the one ounce of self-respect you have. You’ve imagined being cheated on and betrayed, how you’d calmly walk out and let their regret and sorrow eat them alive because you deserve better. But here you are, in the bed and arms of a man who just told you he’s interested in someone else.

Marcus doesn’t sleep. You didn’t calmly walk out but the regret and sorrow eats him alive all the same. He deserves it, he knows he does and he hates it, he wishes he wasn’t so stupid as to get distracted and hurt you because now he’s left with nothing but the mess he created. He’s confused, how could he love you and yet so easily get pulled into Teresa’s trap? He never questioned his love for you, you took up all the space in his mind so how was Teresa able to squeeze in? When he thinks back to when he and Teresa first met there’s nothing, just another co-worker. When did it become more? He remembers thinking about you when she spoke about being single, about how happy you made him. Then… he remembers seeing and talking with Teresa and only seeing and thinking about her. When did that happen? How did that happen? How could he let this happen? And yet here you lay next to him. He knows you’re only in his arms because you’re scared he'll leave because that’s basically what he said to you. He’s resurrected the evil voices that taunt your every being, the voices he helped you fight into submission, a battle that took you years. He’s broken every moral code, value and promise he’s ever made to himself and to you. By 3:00 am his grief eats him alive to the point where he can’t fight his exhaustion.

An uneasy anxiety wakes you, the time reads 4:42 am. You feel… different… cold and robotic. Numb. You’ve allowed yourself to take blame and create a solution that you can provide, it’s made you indifferent and detached. You're no longer a loving partner but an actor playing one, acting out the role perfectly but you can only act it perfectly if you don’t let your own emotions get in the way. You think about picture-perfect relationships, often subliminally misogynistic, and use them as your guide. You’ll get up and dressed and make breakfast, a big one, a big ‘I’m sorry’ movie breakfast! Marcus will be happy. You carefully remove Marcus’s arm from you. His touch isn’t warm, it burns your skin and feels like a lie. You breathe better without his arm on you, without him touching you but you don’t allow yourself to enjoy that freedom because you have a job to do. You shower, shave, exfoliate, wear perfume, do your hair and put on a nice not-so-casual outfit before creating an expansive spread for breakfast. You’ve gone about the morning like a stereotypical 1950s housewife, all that’s missing is a husband that won’t appreciate your work.

It is just as you’re setting everything in place that Marcus appears. You can tell he’s confused like he’s trying to figure out if this is real or a dream. A dream… see you can be his dream if you just try.

“What’s all this?” he asks, confused. And now you feel silly…

“I- um-…” you’re suddenly nervous and can’t find the right words, the words that don’t scream ‘I’m terrified you’ll leave me so I’ll do and be whatever you want me to’. While fighting to find the words Marcus slowly makes his way to you. You take a deep breath,

“I just… I wanted to remind us how… good, happy we are together,” you muster out.

“Oh baby you don’t have to do that, I’m always happy with you, you never have to remind me,” Marcus says solemnly. ‘Then why are you interested in someone else’ your brain says. You nod as though you believe him.

The two of you sit and enjoy your hard work but it’s filled with a heavy and awkward silence.

“What time did you get up? I mean, you did all this,” Marcus says while gesturing to the food, “and you’re dressed up.”

“It’s nothing, I just couldn’t fall back asleep this morning so…” you shrug, “I got a head start on the day. Plus I figured it’d be nice for you to not have to wake up to what looks like a beached sea creature,” you joke. You smile and laugh at yourself, trying to ensure he doesn’t see how truthful you’re being, how negatively you’re seeing yourself. Marcus puts his cutlery down and looks at you seriously, leaning into the table and giving you his hands to take. You place your hands in his, leaning over the table yourself.

“You never, never, are anything other than beautiful to me, ever.”‘Then why did she catch your eye?’ “I love seeing you relaxed and happy more than anything, I love it because it's like you’re bearing your soul to me.”‘Then why weren’t my soul and I enough?’

His words burn, they hurt, you’d actually prefer poisoned words or a physical blow because what he’s doing now is so much worse. It’s a reminder of what was, what could’ve been, of what he’s capable of faking.

You smile and scoff, unable to take in his words completely without crying. He can’t see you cry. You take your hands from his.

“You’re the only one who thinks that Marcus and it might be because you need to see an optometrist. Plus,” you continue to ensure he can’t break down your defences, “I had time and wanted to remind myself how hot I can be.” Another joke, anything but face reality, change the topic, nod and smile, but don’t look in the mirror too long, don’t look at Marcus too long, don’t interpret his words, let everything roll off your back and avoid the actuality.

Marcus knows what you’re doing, he knows you too well not to and it breaks him to see you put up all your defenses. To have you listen to all the evil little voices in your head, to have you act and the worst part? He knows it’s all because of him. He knows these defences, he encountered them early on in your relationship, and he helped take them down. Now he’s the reason they’re up. You’re creating a version of yourself you believe he’ll like, a version he’ll love, but he truly does love the real you. He loves waking up to your relaxed body, no matter how awkward the position seems or the state of your pyjamas. He loves waking up to see the hairstyle your pillows made you, to see whatever face your face has found itself in even when it leaves you drooling, especially when it leaves you drooling. He loves your morning breath and your slightly cranky and disoriented mood when you first wake. He loves seeing your shoulders be relaxed and your jaw unclenched, even if it gives you less-than-perfect posture and a double chin. He loves all these things that you hate because he knows it means you’re at ease with him. That you trust him. That you don’t have to put a show on for him, a brave face that you wear too often. He’s one of the few that get to see you, not a facade. Got, Your brain quickly corrects, got to see.

“I think we need to talk about what I said last night,” Marcus says.

‘You mean how you found somebody else?’, “I don’t know that-...”

“I know it’s going to… suck to put it lightly but I told you for a reason. Because I do love you, and I’d never hide anything from you, including some silly crush.”

“Silly crush? You told me she took up your mind, that you were mesmerized by her laugh. It wasn’t just finding someone attractive or enjoying their company!” you begin to raise your voice.

“I know, I know. I- I just don’t know what to do. I do love you, I've envisioned our lives together, growing old and being the cutest couple in the care home…”

“Then how could you fall so easily for Teresa? How could you love me if you are able to forget all about me at the sight of another woman?!”

“I don’t know, I- My mind is a mess. I can’t give you an answer. I’m sorry. But… I don’t want you to do this, to be this.” Marcus says while motioning towards you and the absurd breakfast you put together.

“Marcus… I don’t know that I can do that. I look at you and… all I see are my flaws, reasons I’m not good enough. And I know you’ll argue that but it doesn’t matter what you say because I no longer trust a word you say.” Tears well up in your eyes, this isn’t how your morning was supposed to go, you were supposed to fake happiness until everything was fine.

Your words break Marcus’s heart. Flaws? You didn’t have any in his eyes. He’s desperate.

“But tell me you’re willing to try, please?”

I can’t lose him, he’s my everything. He just needs time, he’ll realize he’s being silly and come back to me. He has to. Things will be fine. They have to be.

You take a deep breath and nod, “I’m willing to try,” you say just above a whisper. The words hurt because it means stabbing yourself in the heart every moment that you look at him. Pretending that you’re enough when you’re not. This isn’t the same as pretending things are fine because Marcus has already admitted it isn’t, that he knows about your defences and doesn’t want you to use them. To openly let yourself get hurt.

— a week later —

The day has taken everything out of you, you’re exhausted but you’ve got housework to do. Truth is, this last week you’ve felt like utter garbage and have tried to hide it by putting more effort into your appearance. If you look good on the outside, you'll feel good on the inside right? Well, it hasn’t really worked but it’s given you something to think about besides the crushing cloud of melancholy that fogs your head. However, between the cloud and the energy you’ve exerted trying to ignore it, you’ve come home exhausted. Although it doesn’t feel much like home anymore, you’re constantly on edge now, waiting for Marcus to say or do something. All while finding subtle ways to improve yourself. You’ve slacked a lot on the house duties. Marcus hasn’t said anything and he’s picked up your slack. He reassures you that it’s okay given the circumstances, that he wants you to ‘focus on yourself’.

Marcus has found a way to come home early every day this week, except today. Your brain tells you that he doesn’t have to stay late to work but is instead spending time with Teresa. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re too tired if he wants to leave, and you knoe he will but at this point there's nothing you can do to change that.

While you mentioned taking a break, allowing him to explore, he really hasn’t. He’s felt so guilt-ridden about what he’s done to you, he just wants to make it all better. That in no way redeems him, he knows that. He’s invested more in you, trying to communicate how awful he feels, how he knows he fucked up. Then a case calls extra attention from the team and in walks Teresa… He sees her and feels guilt. He wants to run away from her and into your arms but then she smiles at him… and he forgets you. He forgets how you make him giggle when you wake up annoyed at your alarm every morning. He forgets how you always pour his coffee before your own. He forgets that you’ll plan spontaneous dates after a rough week to help each other forget about it even for a little. He forgets the adorable face you make when concentrating or trying to remember something. He forgets the way you jump and scream when he accidentally startles you that always ends in the two of you laughing in each other's arms. He forgets that he has a piece of the sun waiting at home for him.

You change out of your day's clothes and into some nice loungewear. Nice enough to be comfy but not enough to fall asleep immediately in. You put some music on and begin cleaning, maybe it’s the slightly messy state of your house that is attributing to your dark cloud. If you clean the house, you’ll clean your mind. You know that's not true, that this time it isn’t something you can clean or tend to, to solve. But you do it anyway, hoping it’ll provide some relief. You start in the kitchen, getting lost in the loud music, before you make your way to the bathroom and laundry, losing track of time. Then all that’s left is vacuuming.

It’s late, you haven’t eaten or bothered to prepare anything, it didn’t feel necessary when you heard Marcus wouldn't be home for dinner. You’re tired but the music is keeping you moving and there’s a small feeling of accomplishment from getting so much work done in spite of your down mood.

The moment work is finished, Marcus is filled with guilt again. He’s here with Teresa… you’re at home… It’s like she has a spell over him. He thinks of you and his heart sinks. He thinks about how sad he feels with you and happy he feels with Teresa… he’s made his choice. He goes home feeling sick to his stomach, but he can’t continue like this, in limbo. He thought he’d feel lighter with his mind made up but he feels heavier until he gets home and opens the door. You’re singing, and moving to the music while vacuuming. He smiles, he loves coming home to you, he wants to come home to this forever… Your singing is offkey and he loves it, it’s not a show you’re putting on.

Marcus goes and pauses the music and in a split second, you turn and scream before realizing it’s him. You put a hand to your chest, catching your breath. Marcus laughs,

“I didn't mean to scare you but this was the least startling way I could think of letting you know I was home.”

“How was work?”, you ask with a small smile, mustering all the energy left in your body to resemble slightly happy and not broken down. Work… Marcus thinks, that’s right, work, his decision.

“I’ve made up my mind,” You furrow your brows, too tired to connect the dots. “I know who I love, who I want to be with more,” ‘Oh… right, I let him pick, let him decide.’

“And?” Marcus takes a deep breath,

“I want to be with Teresa.”

Time stops and you’re numb, “oh,” is all that comes out. Your eyes aren’t focused and nothing feels real. “Umm… what does- where…” you begin to stutter out.

“I’ve booked a hotel and will find a new place.”

“You’ve already booked a hotel?” you ask emotionless.

Marcus nods, “Back at the office.”

“You’ve already planned…” He’s planned out how to leave. Staying wasn’t ever an option.

“I’m sorry…” Marcus starts but you can’t bear to hear it.

“No no, you- you told me what you felt and I gave you time to decide. You’ve decided. This is just… the cards we were dealt…” you say numbly. Marcus hates to hurt you because he really does love and care for you, he’s just not sure you’re his endgame.

“I-I‘ll go pack a bag,” he says before leaving the foyer.

He decided. In your clouded head and act you forgot that things could end. That no matter what you did… it wouldn’t have been enough. Somehow this hurts less than when he first told you about Teresa, maybe part of you already knew and grieved. Maybe it was the mix of self-hatred and pessimism that took over your life last week that made the blow more bearable. What hurt was the future. What was your future? Before it was always you and Marcus… now everything was… gone. You’d have to build yourself from scratch. The unknown for the indefinite future was horrifying. Your heart begins racing, everything you knew, the stability in your life, is being stripped from you overnight. Your breaths become shallow as you think about having to move, will you be able to find a new place? Will it be nice? Close to work? What if it’s a dump, infested with rodents and insects? Your hearing is long gone, all you hear is the whirlwind in your mind. Your shallow breaths make you lightheaded and burn your lungs. You lower yourself to the ground with the help of the couch.

Everything’s a blur and then Marcus’s face is there, in front of you. He looks worried, why’s he worried? What’s happened? Is he okay? Finally, he touches you and you hear an echo of your name come from his lips. Me, I am what’s wrong.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you breathe out, taking some grounding breaths, focusing on how hard the ground feels beneath you. When your senses come back to you, you briefly forget what Marcus has just told you. You see him and think you’re glad he was here to help, but then it dawns on you, he’s the reason it started.

You quickly get up like his presence hurts, because it does.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-…”

“It’s fine you’re okay,” Marcus says while moving to give you a reassuring touch. You maneuver away from him,

“I’ll let you get back to packing,” you finish without looking at him and walking out the front door. You need air and space.

You don’t go far, your mind is too busy to let your legs carry you far so you find yourself on a nearby bench, no more than 5 minutes from where Marcus is. You don’t know what to do, nothing feels real. In 30 minutes the night's cool air has appeared and made you shiver so you return to the place that hurts most with a new numbness from the cold.

Inside is Marcus with a few bags packed.

“I was worried, I texted you but,” he motions to your phone left on the counter.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, “lost track of time. Have you got what you need?”

“Uh… yeah…”

You nod, “when did you want to get the rest of your things?” This was really happening.

“Um, I’m not too sure yet but within the week for sure, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, not like I’ll be anywhere else,” you laugh coldly.

“I’m really sorry-…”

“Don’t. Don’t be, I- I want you to be happy so… don’t worry.”

Marcus begins to make his way towards the door with his bags, “I’ll text you about my things.”

“Of course,” you say with a sad smile and with that… he leaves.

The night is a bit of a blur, at first, you were in a mixed state of denial and numbness but at one point you were too tired to hold yourself together and you broke. You ended up laying down on the floor, the bed and the couch having too many memories of him. You don’t sleep and not just because the ground is uncomfortable.

At 6 am panic sets in. You can’t live here, you have to move. You open your phone and begin rapidly planning your future, taking screenshots and sending emails. Just like you have your whole life, you’re left to go it alone, to depend on no one but yourself, working yourself into the ground and then working some more. As heartbreaking and frustrating as it is, you also know one more thing about yourself: no matter what, you always get to the finish line, and you can depend on yourself.

—-4days later—-

You’ve spent all your free time packing and searching for your future. On your days off you’ve gone to different homes and renting spaces and neighbourhoods to see what could be a good fit. You find an apartment near your workplace that’s decent. It’s small but it’s just you so… it’ll work. It’s clean and safe and you can afford it which is all you can really ask for. You’ve been so busy you haven’t had time to grieve, or in other words, you haven’t allowed yourself to grieve by burying yourself in other things.

You’re signing the lease when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

It’s a text from Marcus that reads: ‘I can pick my stuff up tonight or tomorrow if tonight is too late of notice.’

You text him it’s fine and set to meet at 5 pm.

You get back to your place and begin packing, not only your stuff but Marcus’s as well. You try not to get sentimental about packing the things you once shared but tears escape nonetheless. You try to lessen the pain by forcing yourself to get as much packing done as possible, the sooner you can get out of this place, the better.

This place hurts to live in now, it feels like you’re living with a ghost. You yearn for Marcus to return but the old Marcus, the ghost of him. You’re constantly bombarded with flashbacks of happy moments between the two of you. That wasn’t the worst of it though. The worst was seeing what could have been. Walking into the kitchen and seeing the two of you attempting a new recipe together. Going to do laundry and seeing a new detergent that Marcus bought because it smelt nice. Going to bed and seeing an older you and Marcus reading comfortably in that same bed. It was like memories you hadn't yet created… and now never would. That hurt the most. These illusions make you want to run back into Marcus’s arms and make them a reality, but this reminds you of the second worst reminder: you never wanted to leave Marcus’s arms… Marcus wanted to leave yours.

You’re folding extra linens when there's a knock at your door. You know it’s Marcus so you just tell him to let himself in.

How weird that the two of you used to have keys to this place and enter with the relief of having finished the day and being able to see each other. And now, one of you has to knock, one of you is now a stranger and the other can’t bear living in these four walls.

Marcus walks in as you finish folding the item in hand, placing it in a box. He stops in his tracks just as quickly as he entered. He takes in the state of what was once his home. A lot of decorations and non-essential furnishings have been stripped off and gathered near the front door, along with boxes, more than was necessary for his stuff.

“What’s uh- what’s going on?” he asks confused.

“Packing,” you say quick, almost crudely.

“You’re moving?”

“Yeah,” you take a breath and finally stop and look to Marcus, “I just can’t live here being reminded-...” you can’t finish. Marcus looks to the ground nodding,

“Right, right.”

You walk towards a pile of what looks like miscellaneous items, “I just don’t know how to divvy this stuff,” you explain motioning to the pile.

Marcus takes a closer look at the pile and understands the pile, it’s items you got together. Most were pretty material except one, on the side lay a folded blanket, the fleece tie blanket the two of you made together. Each of you picked a fleece pattern and then the two of you sat on the living room floor and laid them out atop each other, made the appropriate cuts and lastly, tied them together. The blanket would find its home as a throw blanket on the couch that the two of you often used when cuddling together during movie night, date night, or just because. That breaks Marcus’s heart, and it’s then that he takes in the four walls that he’ll never see again, the place that made him so happy, that this part of his life is ending. But he did this, he doesn’t have the right to be heartbroken, this was his decision, his choice.

“Um I don’t think I need any of it,” he says quietly.

“Okay, well if you don’t want it I’m donating it, I’ve already taken what I need,”

“The blanket,” Marcus nearly yells, he says it so quickly like he was afraid it was gonna disappear before his eyes.

You notice there’s something in the tone of his voice but are too tired and broken to really care or process it.

“Okay,” you say while handing it to him.

Giving him the blanket fills you with heartbreak and relief. This was one of the items that hurt most to have to pack away and the pain it caused told you you couldn’t keep it. It not only held the memories of making it but the browsing of the fabric store together, Marcus choosing the most god-awful patterns he could find claiming it was his choice, the dozens of nights spent asleep on the couch after unintentionally falling asleep, and thousands of minutes spent under it.

Marcus feels every one of those minutes through the threads. Minutes he didn’t think would end, certainly not so suddenly. As he runs his hands over the material the memories run through his mind, memories he assumed he’d continue making with you throughout your mortal lives.

“Is that all?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts

‘You’ his brain thinks, “Uh no, that should do it.”

You nod. You have so many questions for him but the pain in your chest and hurt sob stuck in your throat won’t let you ask. Was it something I did? Why wasn’t I enough? I tried so hard. You knew asking wouldn’t help ease the pain no matter the answer he gave you, even if he apologized and ran into your arms the damage was already done.

You quietly help Marcus take his stuff to his car. Emotionally you’re numb but your brain is screaming at you that this is the end.

“Thanks,” Marcus breathes when you place the last of his things down.

“No problem,” you turn to walk away, returning to the four walls that allow you to cry in peace but turn back to him.

“Marcus?”

“Yeah?” he looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“I hope the two of you are happy,” you walk away before he can say anything or see the tears that fall. Marcus is left standing on the sidewalk with his things in his arms realizing he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life, and there's nothing he can do to fix it.

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @currentobsessionrabbithole @harriedandharassed @alberta-sunrise @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @louderfortheback @trey-18 (also tagged those that were so kind about the first part!)

#marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike

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furious-rogue-stuff · 7 months

Note

Congratulations, you so deserve all the followers and many, many more!!! As you know I am a HUGE fan of Heat and recommend it to all my friends. Anyhoo my ask is ⚖️🤨✨

My wonderful and most prolific cheerleader! I’m SUPER sorry for the ridiculous wait on this, but I finally got around to your wild Marcus Pike/Sex Pollen?! prompt. I really hope I did this sweet boy justice and that all the banter and smut make up for keeping you waiting so long~!

Thanks, as always, to @just-here-for-the-moment for putting up with my ass and beta reading to make sure this wasn’t complete trash and smutty enough.

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Spanish woman, written by a Latina. Here’s my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 17,000

🚨Author chooses not to include detailed warnings, but the following: Mentions of Teresa Lisbon, marriage, con artist behavior, crime, past relationships, unrequited love, sex pollen, deception, undercover work, graphic depictions of unprotected sex, and slight hurt-comfort.

Haze

There was a time when you were simply a skilled vixen – an entrancing, expert wheeler of the power of suggestion who'd been skimming your way through affluent circles from city to city, but never enough to draw attention to yourself. At least unless you wanted to.

Then, it'd all changed with a chance fumble that was spotted by the least likely source.

He'd been the special agent that had ensnared you and brought you into the fold – propositioning you into using your talents to sharpen the skills of the task force he'd taken the lead position in D.C. for. His team admittedly needed the consultation of someone with the experience and sophistication of being entrenched in the art world, albeit from the wrong side of the law. And you fit the bill.

You hadn't had much choice, considering the prospect of prison for your femme fatale lifestyle to date, and the precarious situation you'd been caught in by said special agent. So, you'd agreed to a career as an indentured asset to the bureau, with the tenure of your time working within the task force at his total discretion.

It had been a contentious adjustment.

Part of you was incredulous that you'd been foiled by the likes of Marcus Pike, and part of him was perplexed that rather than be eager to happily oblige the task force – and him, as its leader, you instead were intent to buck all conventions. This included a vexing, seemingly incessant need to push his buttons – buttons he never even knew he had.

Overtime, though, you'd both found a status quo – a begrudging understanding of how you'd each need to operate and let the other maneuver in order for the arrangement to work.

"—Hope you're not having another late night, Savedra. Not with all the work we have to tackle on this case—"

"Ah, I wonder: Was there ever a time in your life that you weren't in your pajamas and nursing your warm milk before Nick at Nite comes on, Pike? That you went out and had fun without fretting over an early bedtime? Don't worry, I'll be in bright and early—"

"That's what you said the last time, though—"

"Extenuating circumstances beyond my control, Pikey boy—"

"A 'couture trunk show' is Manhattan is hardly a good enough excuse to blame as an 'extenuating circumstance'—"

"To someone who wears the same rumpled suits? Oh, I'm sure it isn't. Now c'mon, Pike's Delight, tell me: How hard did the cashier at Kohl's laugh at you when you bought three versions of the same tie on-sale?"

"They did not—! This tie was a gift, actually—"

The pinch between his brows, the twitch of his lips fighting not to pull into a scowl, and the gruff way he countered back were his unmistakable tells that you'd needled him just right.

"You literally wore one that looked exactly like it the other day, and there was the blue version you had on for the inter-agency ops meeting last week—"

"They're completely different colors, though—"

"But they have the same dull polka dot configuration and they're the same exact semi-satin fabric, which makes them different versions of the same tie—"

"Alright, Dandy Lion. Give it a rest, and go before I set a curfew for your comings and goings."

Your smirk had been charming as you turned to lope down the hall towards the elevators, tossing a casual wave over your shoulder.

"Have a nice night, Pike."

The snappy repartee between you two had become notorious within the task force, and many couldn't help be amused – and take bets – on which of the two of you would have the last word, and the best zinger. Pike tended to score the most in the former, while you easily dominated the latter.

Still, though, Marcus found ways to rein you in, and started to take secret satisfaction in exasperating you right back.

"—I do not appreciate you freezing my accounts, Pike—"

"First of all, it's a single account, although I am considering having all your accounts frozen. Even the ones you think we don't know about—"

"That seems punitive and uncalled for—"

"The account in question is a corporate account, Savedra. It is for work-related expenses, not for lavish shopping hauls at Nordstroms—"

"Um, excuse me, that was a work-related expense. You want me to impersonate a wealthy socialite traveling to London for a black-market art auction, remember? I can't seriously be expected to do so without having the latest Fall must-haves—"

"Oh, so three Mooglar dresses and three Loubootan heels are the Fall must-haves, eh?"

Your full lips flattened in that peeved way for a nanosecond – the tell that indicated he'd successfully annoyed you before you placed your hands on your hips and smoothly deadpanned, "It's Mugler and Louboutin, Pike. And yes, they are essential if you want anyone to believe my cover—"

"You can expense one outfit. The costs of the other two will be docked from your stipend for next month—"

"So, it wouldn't be a good time to mention that I also pre-ordered a limited-edition Chanel purse…?"

"…How much?"

"Oh, it's an absolute steal! And, it'll only go up in value—"

"How much, Dandy Lion?"

You knew he meant business whenever he refers to you by your codename.

"Just a little over six grand…"

"That's more than three times your monthly stipend—!"

"…So then you'll let me expense it to the corporate card?"

"...Close the door on your way out, Savedra."

The smug purse of your lips indicated you'd been teasing him, and you confirmed so by chiming over your shoulder as you strolled out, "No worries. I already have a Chanel bag that'll work for the trip."

"Good. I'll make sure to call the Shanell store and let them know to go ahead and cancel that order, then—"

Pausing at the door, you turn to shoot a berating glare at him where he's sat behind his desk, and scoff condescendingly, "Oh my god, you are purposely butchering the label—you know damn well it's Cha-nel, not Sha-nell!"

You see the sly little quirk to the corner of his mouth he coolly veils by dropping his chin low as he shrugs and drawls, "Dully noted, dandelion."

You pursed your lips and grunted a cavalier sound before strutting out, deciding then and there you needed to do some forensic accounting of your own.

According to his records – the ones you pulled up after hacking into the bureau's internal database, Marcus Pike had been an FBI agent from right out of college. Graduating with honors from a Criminal Justice major, he'd been recruited, gotten stellar marks in Quantico, and received several letters of recommendation. He had an impeccable record, and was frankly a poster boy for a government do-gooder.

A few more backdoor breaches and search engine deep dives later, and you were able to paint quite a full picture from the social media collage-like bits of information you were able to access from college buddies, family friends, and federal databases.

Circumventing the encryption of his email provider allowed you an administrator's view of his account, and you were mystified that this man archived so many communications, no matter how inane, dated, or of innocuous consequence they seemed.

At least until you found the consequential stuff.

There was the correspondence with his divorce attorney from over a decade prior, the utility bills for the home he'd once shared with his ex-wife, the frank and disarmingly candid emails between said ex and him – one of which had the doozy of a line: I love you, Marcus, but I don't think I'm in love with you. I'm not really sure I ever was.

You felt guilty reading his response. Not because you were invading his privacy, but because you could feel how sympathetic he was towards basically being told how having married him had been a mistake – that they'd been fools who rushed into it at a young age before they even knew what they wanted in life. His answer, which was brimming with a veiled, resigned sadness to it that tugged at a heartstring – I guess I just got ahead of myself and took you along with me. I'm sorry – was a window into Marcus you didn't expect to get, nor feel deserving of having.

And then seeing the emails between him and an Agent Teresa Lisbon? How they'd gone from platonic forwards of suggested restaurants to check out, to apartment photos sent back and forth between them? Jumping then abruptly to a galling 'Dear John'-style email from her where she apologizes to him and offers to go in person in order to handle the shipping of her belongings back to Dallas, and promising to properly discuss her decision to break things off with him and not take the job he got for her at the D.C. FBI Major Crimes unit after all?

You'd been astounded.

"Did he really ask her to marry him after a couple of months of dating?!" was your flabbergasted rhetorical question to your empty office during the afterhours snoopfest.

Using your powers of suggestion, you'd eventually gotten more of the details from the task force's tech expert who'd come from the Dallas office with Pike, having befriended the congenial guy who tended to get very chatty over caffeinated drink breaks.

"—Totally brutal. Like, one minute he was smitten and cajoling her into picking an apartment, then he was fist-pumping about her saying yes to his impromptu proposal, and boom – she dumps him for Jane. Talk about getting mind-fucked," he prattled on over coffee, none the wiser that you were internally cataloguing everything.

However, this wasn't the usual fact-finding on a mark that you were used to undertaking.

Pike hadn't struck you as a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, and you perplexingly felt complicit in capitalizing on manipulating your way further into the good graces of the bureau thanks to him vouching for you with the powers that be, knowing now how much of a true-blue good guy he was. Even when he was getting his heart torn out and stomped on.

You ignored the thought about the parallels between he and you in that regard.

"—You with us, Savedra?"

Focusing back onto the meeting you're currently in, you curtly nod to Pike and quip, "Yes, I was just thinking about who would be best suited for the undercover side of the operation, since no offense, none of your fellas really fit the bill."

"Oh?" Marcus crosses his arms and leans back into the wall next to the projector screen that's currently displaying the pattern of the art theft ring's hits. "Care to share why you think so?"

Glancing across at the male agents, before arching a brow when you look at Pike, you gesture to the screen and explain, "The museums aren't the pattern; it's what they took that reveals the pattern. The items taken were antiquities – meaning requiring large crates and secure shipping out of country. Antiquity theft is a perfect front for the real heist: Moving narcotics across borders. They get packed in with the stolen piece, and act as payment for the traffickers moving it."

As you explain, you pull out your tablet and take over the screen of the laptop attached to the projector to screenshare several examples of police busts showing drugs packed in with stolen sculptures.

"There is a very elite pool of players with the means and networks to pull this kind of heist off, and based on the size of these antiquities? I think we're dealing with The Jackal."

Everyone exchanges looks of varying degrees of confusion before Marcus furrows his brow and queries, "Who?"

You roll your eyes as you seamlessly pull up the digital dossier that you'd taken the liberty to compile for the meeting. "It's a wonder how this task force is meant to achieve a damn thing, with the lack of intel you guys have involving actual international art theft…" is your aloof musing as you pull up a database cataloguing the thefts of antiquities and ancient artifacts. "So, The Jackal, boys and girls, is the head of an intercontinental ring of thieves operating in the Mediterranean the last five years or so. No one knows his true identity, but many of the buyers who were captured and cooperated with authorities in Egypt and Greece have given details about how they network."

"Ok…and what leads you to believe that no one here is suited to go undercover on this?" Marcus questions, crossed arms tightening as he eyes you intently when you give him a mischievous look.

"So, there's no way to actually infiltrate this ring. Which makes this operation moot. However, if we impersonate the ring to one of the trafficking syndicates, we might be able to find the buyers and retrieve the artifacts. And right now? None of your fellas resemble the description on file for The Jackal—"

"Wait, you want an agent to go undercover as The Jackal?" Marcus cuts in before he braces his hands onto the conference table so he can lean against it after you nod dramatically. "Well then. Care to tell us your plan?"

You do, detailing the honeypot-trap-style plan and how you'd be the facilitator for The Jackal and the targeted traffickers.

"—However, like I said, we don't have anyone who currently fits the bill for The Jackal—"

"And what is the bill?" Marcus inquires before remarking, "You just said so yourself. No one knows what this guy looks like—"

"No, but most do know rumors of what he's supposedly done, and his physical description leaves a lot lacking, but paints a general picture: Tall, broad-shouldered, boxer-like physique, tan skin, dark hair, strong jaw, dark eyes, and a well-kept beard. His demeanor is intense, intimidating, reticent, but quickly prone to violence," you elaborate, pointedly glancing around at every agent at the conference table, silently noting to Pike how none of them fit the description.

"However, I think with some sprucing up and a change of grooming habits, we might have a decent candidate," you remark coolly before you tap on your tablet screen to pull up a current badge photo of an agent in the task force that you think could be transformed to go undercover.

Marcus glances over at his own I.D. photo and watches the gif animation you created that augments his appearance by adding a beard and lengthening his hair slightly.

Some of the other agents have to stifle snickers or check their smirks as you innocently smile at their boss, who is glaring sharply at you.

Needless to say, when it's just you and him in his office after the meeting, you are able to argue your case effectively.

Marcus spends extra time at the gym, and grows out his hair in preparation. He even agrees to allow for your styling of him when the time comes.

A month later, Marcus has grown a beard and let his hair shag out into a more rugged style. You've been covertly taking notice, appreciating how his boring dress shirts now cling to his shoulders and accentuate the muscle of his pectorals and arms. It would still be another month before the seeds you'd planted for the sting operation had taken root, and likely a couple of additional weeks after that to actually execute the operation, so you figured you'd use the time wisely while your guy Pike threw himself into work across the task force's other major cases.

Marcus had gotten to a point with you where he didn't see you just as a rambunctious asset anymore, and with your cooperation and aptitude for the work, he began to categorize you as an integral member of the task force.

After all, you'd ingratiated yourself with the other agents and techs, helped train everyone in how to spot forgeries from the real things, and had volunteered to be the lure on certain cases, as well as his expert when it came to navigating relations with the bigger international agencies. There had been many times now he'd been complimented on the ingenuity of employing you to the cause, and there'd at least been one offer to take you off his hands if he was inclined to part with your expertise and charm.

Marcus took the praise in stride, and summarily declined the offer.

You were smart, resourceful, and masterful when it came to the work. His team was better for it, and he recognized – privately – that he was lucky to have you helping the task force look so skilled in cracking cases.

And the fact you were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen wasn't bad, either.

Still, he'd learned his lesson on courting while on the job, and you were definitely not someone he could earnestly consider as, well, anything more than an unconventional resource with a riskily long leash he was responsible for.

However, he debates about how sustainable this whole arrangement was, long-term. He'd gotten better at reading you, though, so he decides to bide his time for the right moment to discuss where your ambitions currently sit. After all, just because you were an 'indentured servant' didn't mean you weren't looking ahead to things – to a life after you'd done your time.

He wondered if you might want to become an in-field consultant, permanently. You'd partnered with the agents on his team on a whole variety of cases, and had earned their respect. Hell, they trusted you, and from what he could see, it seemed to be vice versa with you as well. And with every case you participated in, Marcus saw something new that slowly peeled the mystique and chipped away at the impression he had of you.

From witnessing how truly charming you could be while talking to foreign officials, to how genuinely kind and selfless you'd been when empathizing with victims of a museum heist, to the infectious warmth you exuded when the team was on downtime after a particularly grueling case. All these different facets had started to form a better picture of the woman you really were, and Marcus found himself looking forward to learning more.

When he returns from a short trip to Dallas for a deposition after a couple of days and heads up to the task force's floor to catch up on work late in the evening, he walks by your office and finds you pacing around with your tablet, in the middle of strategizing the big operation.

"That's a big artifact you've pulled from the archive," Marcus comments after he's watched you map things out.

You whirl around and snicker at seeing him lope in to survey what you've pinned to the transparent board in your office.

"Go big or go home, Shaggy," you can't help razz, grinning when he gives you a deriding look. "What? It's a good look for you, Pike—"

"Careful, Savedra. That sounded dangerously close to a compliment," he puckishly taunts and slips his hands into his gray slacks pockets when you squint humorously at him.

"Well, that's because it was," you remark simply, turning to retrieve your stylus from the desk and missing the way his features etched with surprise. "I think another couple of weeks of beard growth, and you'll be ready. Oh! And at some point, we have to go get you fitted for a couple of suits—"

Frowning, he crosses his arms and grumbles, "I have plenty of suits—"

"Correction: You have plenty of sad, drab, 'I clearly work for the FBI' suits. Nothing dashing and stylishly-tailored like what The Jackal has been rumored to wear," is your matter-of-fact counter as you sketch out a floorplan for the honeypot's meet room.

He grunts noncommittally and runs his fingers across his moustache as he looks over the map of the warehouse planned for the fake stolen art depot. "Well, it's a good thing I have a fashionista on the books who'll help spruce up my wardrobe, then, wildcat," he drawls in a raspy musing, and you can't help glance his way and admire the broad set of his shoulders under the gray blazer.

"So, how was Dallas?" you find yourself asking as you busy yourself saving the schematic that's on your tablet screen.

He turns halfway to look at you, as if surprised, before shrugging and recovering the aloof look on his features while he turns back to the board. "It was uneventful," is all he replies, but by the way he balances his weight onto one leg and crosses his arms tight, you can tell he's lying, but trying to be cool about it.

He's lying to himself—trying to convince himself it was uneventful.

You hum, and set your tablet and stylus aside on your sideboard before sitting on the edge of your appointed desk. "Well then, Pike's Delight! Please tell me you'll do something eventful? Have a wild weekend planned? Or are you going to spend it organizing your sock drawer—?"

He turns with a snort to snicker, "Give me a little credit. If you keep the sock drawer organized, you don't have to spend time getting it organized," and at your chuckle, he adds, "I'll spend it likely how I did last weekend—"

"Oh, let me guess: Farmer's market, then back to your place for dinner in front of the TV—"

"…I don't always go to the farmer's market to grocery shop, but yeah, dinner and a movie, sure—"

"Bet things were riotous at the produce stand—Oh! And I bet you watched something racy on Lifetime?" you can't help jibe irreverently as you cross your arms and lean into your perched seat more.

"Nope," Marcus smoothly refutes, before admitting, "It was TCM, and nothing racy."

You smile, truly amused. "Food shopping outside, cooking, and a Turner Classic Movie? Sounds like some action-packed shi—"

"Instead of ragging on it, you should try it out for yourself," Marcus finds himself blurting charismatically before he's registered the gravity of such a proposition. Your features betray mild intrigue, as if you're waiting for him to say something else to signal it's a joke. When he begins to muse, "Ah, I only mean—it's a cool spot with great vendors. I'm not much of a splurger on that kind of thing, but every once in a while, I go and get stuff to whip up a nice dinner—"

"Oh? Have you been holding out on me, Pikey boy? Are you a secret foodie?" you chime with a lilting tone, smile brilliant when he scoffs, as if caught. "You are! Well then, now I gotta see this 'nice dinner' and be the judge of your culinary compétence, cowboy. Although, I'm pretty sure I can whip up a way more delicious supper—"

"I'm gonna have to see that for myself, so it's settled, wildcat."

How you ended up making plans to meet up at the farmer's market on a lovely autumn afternoon to ingredient shop and have a cook-off at Pike's place is beyond you, but then again, he had a way of wearing your guard down into lightheartedness, and it wasn't the first time you'd had fun just bantering with him either. So, here you were, with your canvas tote at your shoulder over your nondescript leather carryall purse as you glance around for the agent in the promenade's foot traffic. Thinking about the puckish smirk he had on his full lips when he called you 'wildcat' – the nickname he seemed to prefer when he wanted to disarm you, while 'dandelion' is what he used when he was charmed by you.

"Well, you actually showed."

You turn to see Marcus in a pair of comfy-looking jeans, light-gray Henley shirt, and dark leather jacket with matching boots and belt.

He eyes you with an appraising glance before admitting, "I had to do a double-take to make sure it was you. I think I've only ever seen you in fancy tailored outfits the entire time you've been with us."

"I'm just channeling a cool and relaxed normie at a farmer's market," you tease as you smoothen down your comfy thin-cotton terracotta sweatshirt, feeling at ease in the formfitting black jeggings and cognac-colored boots.

"It suits you," he compliments before his brain has registered the inappropriateness of it.

You can't help smile before you hand him the shopping tote and deride, "That's quite the compliment, I suppose. Now make yourself useful and carry this so I can have my hands free to peruse, hot stuff."

Huffing in amusement, he takes the tote and falls in step with you as you both start strolling through the bustling outdoor farmer's market.

It's an afternoon filled with light conversation, quipping repartee, and lots of shopping thanks to you both agreeing to a friendly cookoff back at Pike's place. Once your shopping tote is full and he's carrying two paper bags filled with items, you both head down to the nearest metro station and ride the line to his stop.

The walk to his apartment is pleasant, even though you're arguing.

"—Why keep it a secret?"

"Because you'll have a smart remark and develop an instant bias—"

"We're cooking in the same space, Pike—"

"So? You just make your dishes without spying over at mine—"

"Ugh, fine. Oh, we haven't discussed what the winner will get—"

"Lifelong bragging rights?" Marcus proposes smugly as he keys open the entry door and holds it open for you.

"That's it?" you snicker while opening the foyer door and holding it open for him.

"What else is there?" he jokes as he leads the way to the elevator.

Once you're both in and he's pressed the button for his floor, you chime, "How about if you win, I'll quit ragging on you for a week, and if I win, you let me out of my servitude—?"

"That's hardly equal in value, dandelion," is his glib counter as the elevator doors slide open.

"Alright, M. Then what do you propose?" you lilt sardonically while he leads the way to his door and keys in.

Marcus grunts a humored sound, thanks to your James Bond codename reference growing on him the more you use it in convivial conversation.

"Winner gets to pick the movie?" he compromises as he opens his door and gestures for you to enter.

You do so, and take in his bachelor abode with so much veiled intrigue that it takes you a moment to think of a retort to his proposal. "Uh, fine. Sure," you finally singsong, as if resigned to it, but really you don't mind it.

After all, you're too busy admiring the art on his walls.

The apartment was cozy. He had a large L-shaped sectional couch and mid-century modern side tables mixed in with functional bookshelves and accent pieces that made the space warm, yet tastefully elevated compared to the general bachelor pad.

It's an open floorplan, so the kitchen is adjacent to the living room with the island separating the spaces, making it easy for Marcus to catch your appraising surveying after he's set the grocery bags down on the counter next to the stove.

"Alright. C'mon, let me have it," he charismatically jibes, gesturing for you to go ahead and voice your critiques of his place.

You chuckle and shake your head irreverently as you lope over to set down your full canvas tote onto the opposite side of the kitchen island from where he's standing.

"I'm impressed, actually," you tell him honestly, smirking when his brows arch up in surprise. "No, really. Being confronted with proof that you do have good taste is quite gratifying—"

"And there it is," he scoffs and blows a raspberry as he sheds his leather jacket and tosses it onto the nearest kitchen table chair's back before hiking up his Henley's sleeves and drawling, "Alright, Barefoot Contessa, let's get this show going. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Placing your purse on the end table with the lamp and strolling around to go to his sink, you nod towards the record player stand with the organized shelf filled with vinyl albums you spotted next to the entertainment center and remark as you wash your hands, "Impressive collection. What's the last record you had playing?"

He's just finished setting out all his ingredients onto his designated end of the kitchen island when he quirks a taunting brow and drawls, "Nothing you'd be into, I'm sure—"

"Hah, try me. Put it on, and I bet I can guess what it is—"

"If you can't, then you have to tell me your favorite album, and if I don't have it, you have to pull it up on your phone and play it," he challenges with a charming smile as he goes to the record player.

"Deal," you chirp as you take stock of his kitchen before checking in the bottom cabinets for the pots and pans that you'll need.

You get a head start on setting up for your cooking thanks to him fiddling with the record player before you hear the speakers crisply come on as the distinctive intro to the song reverberates through.

At the melodic plucking of guitar strings, you smirk and shout over your shoulder, "'Roundabout' by Yes, off of their album 'Fragile'."

Marcus is impressed, poking his head around from where the wall beam blocks you in the kitchen. "Well, shit. It didn't even get to the chorus—"

"I told you, Pike. I know my stuff," you smugly rub in as you start to chop vegetables on the cutting board you found in the nearest drawer.

"Marcus."

You pause and look back over at him with a curiously arched brow when he lopes in and leans his shoulder against the beam after crossing his arms, casual and relaxed as he stares with warmth in his dark brown eyes at you.

"We're off the clock, so…you can call me Marcus," he elaborates.

"Well then, you do the same," you tell him softly before dipping your chin down to hide your delighted smile as you resume chopping.

He leaves the album to play, and you can see his broad frame near in your peripheral. His baritone is like velvet over steel when he says your name, then rasps, "—We're each doing three courses still?"

Your brain fixates on how Marcus said your first name for the first time. Not the shortened version some of the other agents and techs refer to you by while at happy hour, but your full first name, and he enunciates it the way it's meant to be, which sends an exhilarated, effervescent tickle up your spine.

Heat tingles into the seat of your core, for some odd reason. "Yes. Best of two out of three wins, and gets to pick the movie," is your smooth retort as you cube the rest of the tomato. "Now, quit cheating and go to your corner of the kitchen!"

He chuckles and hops to it, seeming unconcerned with the needing to do any prep for his dishes.

"So, you're into 70's rock?" he queries as he washes his hands in the sink.

"I like all music. But c'mon, that was a classic. Anyone would've guessed right—"

"You'd be surprised," he counters affably as he dries his hands on a dishtowel. "If it isn't from the last decade, most people can't name it—"

"By most people, do you mean 'most women I break out the record collection to' can't name it?" you joke, smirking over your shoulder at him when he turns to look at you coyly. You're tempted to ask, 'Did Agent Lisbon pass your music test?' but decide against it, and instead muse, "Well, lucky for you, I have great taste – in all things."

Marcus glances over at you, and smirks, remarking in a cool hum, "It would seem so."

The cook-off becomes more of a banter session while you both work on your dishes, maneuvering around each other and trying to keep your attention on your individual courses in order not to spoil the surprise of the grand reveals.

"—You were in a band?!"

"Yep. Back in the day—"

"Oh! Let me guess…you played rhythm guitar—"

"Nope! I played bass, and sang vocals. Well, backup vocals, mostly—"

"So you can totally play the bass riff in 'Roundabout', right?"

"Most definitely. Although, don't ask me to sing—"

"I wasn't. I was going to demand that you sing—"

"Quit trying to distract me. I'm doing delicate work here, wildcat—"

"You've literally not started anything on the stove—"

"My dishes are fairly quick, though, so I'm being chivalrous and giving you the advantage…for now," Marcus roguishly quips while seamlessly uncorking a bottle of wine, pouring a serving into a nice glass before handing it to you with easy charm.

You giggle despite yourself before sipping the wine.

Before long, you have enough of your meals in progress that you offer to change the record while Marcus starts marinating and whisking things in the kitchen.

"Oh, you do have my favorite album!" you exclaim convivially, causing Marcus to grin as he seasons his main entrée's protein. "Ok, I'm putting it on, and you better be able to guess—"

"Ah, I will, dandelion. Go on," he lobs humorously over his shoulder as he starts to cook.

The aromatic cornucopia of cooking fills the apartment with so many interwoven scents that it's difficult for either of you to decipher what the other's dishes are, and all his pots and pans have opaque lids, or are in the oven covered with tinfoil.

Marcus is contemplating taking a little peek at one of the simmering pans you have on the back burner when he hears the record start playing.

The instrumental piano bars sound prescient through the speakers, but Marcus knows instantly what album it is.

"That's 'Imagine' by John Lennon, off of the 'Imagine' album," he declares as he gets the griddle hot on the available burner, smiling broadly before asking, "This is really your favorite album?"

"Yes! I love John Lennon—"

"I'm more of a Paul McCartney guy."

And so begins the next round of banter between you.

Soon enough, though, you're both plating your dishes and hiding them on the opposite ends of the kitchen's countertops before Marcus sets the table and brings over the bottle of wine to top off both your glasses.

"—Alright, ladies first," Marcus declares as he sits on one end of the square table.

You are more than happy to go first, believing there's no way he can top any of your three dishes.

"Well, M. First, I present a bruschetta with both heirloom and cherry tomatoes," you place the dish before him, and Marcus marvels at how delicate yet rich all the ingredients look on the toasted crostini-style breads.

"Next, is a black bean and mushroom risotto," is your lilting announcement as you return and place the piping dish down, smiling as he leans forward to catch the curling aroma wafting up from the center of the risotto.

"And finally, herb roasted chicken breast with garlic confit mashed potatoes," is your confident declaration as you place the dish down.

"Wow," is all Marcus can muster as he eyes the gourmet-looking spread you were able to whip up. Begrudgingly impressed, he scrapes his palm along his bearded cheek as he marvels, "This…this is good—"

"You can't say so until you've tried it," you snicker as you sit across from him. "Well? Time to show yours, Mr. Confident."

Marcus's lips quirk at the moniker, and the dark gleam of cocky amusement warms his eyes before he stands from his seat.

"Ok, close your eyes. I'm gonna carry all three out at the same time."

You do as you're asked, smiling goofily at the mental image of him in a ruffled apron effortlessly flouncing around a kitchen with all the dishes balanced in his arms.

"Ta-da!"

You open your eyes, and stare dubiously at the three courses he's placed before you before shooting a snarky stare up at him.

"Oh my god. You literally went the Denny's route?!"

"Hah, Denny's got nothing on any of my dishes! Here is my special vanilla-cinnamon French toast with homemade sausage patties and pure maple syrup. Texas-toast grilled cheese with Monterrey jack and cheddar cheese – with a creamy tomato soup with freshly-picked basil sprinkled on top for dipping. And last, but not least, cheese burgers with lettuce, onion, and tomato, and hand-cut steak fries, with my own mix of salt, pepper and dry-rub buffalo seasoning sprinkled on 'em," Marcus grandly presents and gestures to every dish before giving you a boyish little smile.

Diplomatically, you stand to arrange all the dishes to be within reaching distance for you both before you pat the chair nearest you, indicating he should sit there rather than across from you.

"Ok, cowboy. Let's dig in while it's all still hot!"

You both try each other's dishes, and are blown away by how delicious they are. Then, you eat from your own courses, and trade compliments. Soon enough, the bottle of wine is dry and you're both full – unable to eat another bite. So you help Marcus pack what's left and store it away while continuing to rate which of you won out in the cookoff.

"—How about this: We call it a tie, and we'll surf through the channels until we find a movie we both want to watch?" Marcus proposes as he uncorks the new bottle of wine while you take your boots off and set them aside by the front door.

"No! C'mon, no participation trophy draw," you challenge with a goofy scoff before rounding his couch to meet him halfway to take the offered glass of wine.

"Ok, then you tell me, who medaled in each course?" he derides as he puts the bottle onto the kitchen island and joins you on the sofa with his own topped off glass.

"Hmm, let's see…I think scrumptious breakfast always trumps its challenger, so my bruschetta is out," you rationalize out loud and cross your legs as you lean back into the comfy cushion. At his proud grunt, you quickly caveat, "But! While I really liked your burger, I think my herb roasted chicken was slightly better."

"Alright, so then the tie-breaker is the second course round," he remarks, and at your hum in agreement, he honestly rumbles, "I really liked your risotto."

"And I really liked your grilled cheese and tomato soup. So I think we're stuck with one win each," is your faux huff, but the smirk pulling you lips is impish when he squints dubiously at you. "What? Do you disagree with my assessments?"

"I don't," he drawls, picking up the remote with his free hand before offering it to you. "Start surfin', wildcat."

You do, and end up surprising him by stopping on the TCM channel and looking over at him when the movie description lists Gold Diggers of 1933 as the film that was about to begin.

"This is a good one. Up for watching it—?"

"You like old movies?"

"Well, yes. There are few good ones. I think I've must've seen Casablanca in six different languages at this point," you retort with genuine delight and shrug when he balks at you.

"Really? Casablanca?" he asks, truly charmed when you smile sheepishly for the first time. "No, I'm not teasing. I just don't think I've ever met anyone other than my grandmother who liked that movie too—"

"Well, I moved around a lot, and no matter where you're at in the world, classic cinema will be playing on some channel or at a theater. Watching old movies overseas – when they dub over the English, or at least list the subtitles beneath? It's a great way to learn the language," is your thoughtful rationale as you shift to comfortably sit in a way that you're angled towards him. "They're filled with old-fashion charm, glitz and glamour – even when they're dark and tragic stories...but this one is a silly romp of a musical, if you're into that kind of thing."

He knew your history from the intel reports he'd been given after you'd been detained. Clearing his throat, he set his wine glass aside and got comfortable on his end of the sofa, making the split decision not to broach the topic further.

"I've only seen parts of this one, so I'm good with watching it," is Marcus's easygoing remark, glancing over at you with a smile as he assures, "Go on. Stretch out and take a load off. If you get chilly, help yourself to the throw blanket."

You don't have to be told twice.

Soon enough, you're both engrossed in the film. You sit with your legs tucked underneath you, the blanket over your lap, and your arm folded over the back cushion while Marcus lounges with his sock-clad feet propped up on the edge of the coffee table. Every so often, one of you points out something, or joke around during the short commercial breaks.

"—I find it real telling how you spent so much time raggin' on my low-key evening plans," he chuckles now after he's finished his latest glass of wine. When you feign incomprehension, he rolls his eyes and rumbles, "You're just as big of a relaxed homebody as me—"

You snort, conspiratorially leaning towards him, a bit uninhibited now that the wine is cruising through your bloodstream, and confide in a flirty murmur, "What can I say, Marcus. I just enjoy hassling you."

A flicker of thrill flares in his apex at your words and the beguiling smile you give him. The alcohol's started flushing his cheeks, but the blush that creeps up his neck is definitely not from all the imbibing.

"I kind of picked up on that…eventually," he finds himself replying, lopsided smirk infinitely endearing to you. He was just about to say something else, when the commercial break ended and the movie returned on screen.

Before long, that film ends, and you're both in such a mellow state that you end up watching the next movie that runs right after it.

You talk during the breaks for that film too, and are charmed to learn more about each other.

"—So your mom liked art?"

"Yeah. She loved watercolors. Every so often, she'd take me to the museum when they had a new exhibit. Growing up, she wanted to be a painter…"

He tells you about how he'd grown up of humble means. His father had died when he was still very young, so his grandparents – a retired police deputy and first-grade teacher – helped raise him while his widowed mother held down two jobs. It explained a lot about him – his timelessly endearing charm, the chivalrous way he comported himself, and his love for classic films.

"…My grandmother loved Gone with the Wind the most. My granddad would watch old Jimmy Stewart Westerns pretty exclusively, though," he finishes remarking with a faraway smile on his features.

You can't help smirk as you lilt, "A real Bandolero! fan, then?"

Marcus snickers after draining the last of his wine. "Yep. Although The Man from Laramie was his favorite."

You both enjoy the rest of the movie once it resumes, but at some point, all the food and wine catch up with you both, and the movie on the TV becomes the perfect ambient-inducer for slumber to occur.

You don't know how, but when you eventually wake early the next morning, you find that in your sleep, you'd stretched out length-wise on the couch – and had slept snuggled between Marcus and the back cushions, with your head resting on his shoulder and your arm around his waist, while his was folded around your back.

Besides the sobering shock of it, your senses are flooded with the appealing whiff of his faint cologne, and the intermingled scents of his soap and natural musk. His body against yours felt good, and the alluring urge to nuzzle into his neck has arousal tingling down into your core before you're able to come to your senses and jolt up.

Marcus wakes groggily at the shift of the cushions as you amble up and shimmy away from the spot next to him you'd just vacated. The TV is still on, playing Father of the Bride, and it isn't until you're tossing the throw away from your legs that he snaps fully into awareness.

"Mmph, shit—sorry. I didn't mean to doze off like that," is his gruff mutter, baritone rough from disuse as he yawns and stretches.

You're too busy trying to hide your mortification as you bolt up from the sofa and round it to grab your purse before heading for your boots. "Um, yeah. It's morning, so, I'm just gonna let myself out—"

He sits up and frowns as he scratches at his mussed hair, realizing indeed, it's before dawn.

"Hey, you don't have to rush out. I can give you a ride to your place – I'll make us coffee, and whip up some breakfast before we go," Marcus offers warmly, not realizing you've already got one boot pulled on and are fussing to get the other on.

"No, that's alright. I'll catch a cab," you're telling him as you stand, looping your purse over your shoulder, crossbody, before self-consciously brushing your hands over your hair and finally sparing a glance his way as you remark, "I don't wanna impose any more than I have already—"

Marcus springs up from the couch, internally swearing at the morning wood he's sporting, while already assuring, "C'mon, you're not imposing at all—"

Bemused, he's just turned after covertly adjusting himself in his jeans to see you already at the door.

"See you at work, Pike."

You're out the door before he's even able to articulate a response.

If you were both honest, there had been a not-so-subtle buildup occurring between you.

However, after cookoff-gate, things had swerved into a direction neither of you seemed equipped to maneuver.

Your guard was all the way back up with him. So much so, you weren't even verbally sparring with him at the office anymore.

Marcus handled it the only way he knew how: Focus exclusively on work, and leave no question that his intentions were recalibrated back onto what he assumed you expected. That you wanted nothing but a professional rapport, and to rebuff anything else.

Even after that theory was tested with the club incident soon after the distance between you began – a torrid event that had left him pining for something more, Marcus was left more confused than before when you instead became even more distant.

You were on the precipice of uncertainty for the first time since you'd been ensnared into the task force.

So much so, that you were planning on making the antiquities sting your last.

None of this was because you didn't feel anything for Marcus. Quite the contrary. Your attraction was magnetic, and you hadn't realized how much you'd longed to be safe with someone the way you did when you were with him. It was too dangerous to give into it. That's why you intended to keep your walls up and to suppress all your feelings on the matter in order to concentrate of your impending exit strategy.

But then, things are never that simple.

Marcus is livid when he gets off the elevator and storms at a stalking pace down the corridor several days before the undercover operation is targeted to begin. Everyone takes notice, but the uncharacteristic glower on his rugged features is so intimidating that no one dares check in with him.

He makes it to your office, abruptly enters, and slams the door after himself before stomping to where you're sat behind your desk.

"What the hell possessed you to go around my back and contract an informant without my authorization?!" he shouts forcefully as he looms over you while you stare up at him and frown.

"Nothing. He's been part of the plan since the beginning—"

"Part of the plan that you haven't disclosed to me. And had you told me about the fence you recruited from within the group we're trying to take down, I would've never allowed it!" is Marcus's furious harangue, hands going to his hips to prevent him from gesticulating angrily at you. "You went to the U.S. Attorney and secured an immunity deal with him without my consent—!"

"There was no feasible way to infiltrate this organization without someone on the inside willing to vouch for me, and who can also co-sign that you're The Jackal. He's one of the very few people in the world who has actually seen him and knows his demeanor. And, he's got the motivation to not screw us. He wants out of the life, and knows we're his only chance of making it out alive," you rationalize as you stand and round your desk to point at your transparent board. "See? He's given me key coordinates, and after this morning's intel session with him, I have even more crucial info—"

Marcus grabs your elbow to steer you around to face him and his unwavering scowl. "You are not an agent, Savedra. All you are is a resource – an asset to this team, with no standing to orchestrate these kinds of things behind my back—"

"Listen, Pike. I'm the last person you have to remind of how short my leash is here. I've never forgotten that, least of all that you're the one holding the other end of it. Your task force is a joke, mostly. If you're going to be meek about how you go after these syndicates, then you might as well close shop and go back to Dallas," you snap and shrug your arm out of his hold, staring at him fiercely as you add, "Now, be mad all you want, but if you pull the plug on things now, you're going to derail weeks of work, and set your team back months. I, for one, would like to make all the effort count."

Clenching his jaw, Marcus exhales through his nose and pins you in his dark glare as he grounds out, "Fine. But this is the last time you pull a stunt like this. Understood?"

You nod curtly before turning away to recalibrate your poise as you sigh out.

"Now that we got that out of the way, I set up a session with him so he can detail to you what you need to channel when you're undercover."

Said session does nothing to assuage Marcus, but at least he gets the needed context of what this middle-aged criminal knows, and is briefed on key intel no one has on The Jackal.

The initial meet a few days later with the traffickers goes according to plan.

You convince them of your expertise as a collector of privately-acquired relics, and they buy your explanation of needing the help of a network in order to transport the large, archaic limestone Greek statue of the sphinx you sought to move overseas to a wealthy buyer. The fence, Elio, steers the crew to The Jackal being the appropriate track, and as planned, arranges the fake meet between the traffickers, you, and The Jackal himself.

Marcus didn't need a lot of motivation to channel a reticent, stony man quick to intimidation. His intense demeanor was exactly what everyone in the room expected, thanks to The Jackal's reputation preceding him. However, Elio had divulged one thing that no one outside of this kind of black-market syndicate knew about the head of the Mediterranean art theft ring.

"—Before I give my blessing to this transaction, I'd like to get to know who I'm doing business with."

You'd turned to Marcus and expertly portrayed cautious intrigue. It really wasn't hard, with how dapper he looked in his dark black suit, sans a tie and with a matching open-collared dress shirt underneath the tailored blazer. His hair was swept back, curling in shaggy whisps at his nape and behind his ears. And while his beard wasn't as thick and full as Elio had mentioned The Jackal's being, you thought he looked roguishly handsome, nevertheless.

"And I would be obliged to do whatever necessary to make our business nothing but successful, Sciacallo," you tell him, using the Italian moniker The Jackal favors when doing business.

As planned, Marcus leads you out of the impromptu gathering at the hangout the traffickers use and escorts you to the private quarters upstairs. However, unlike you'd planned up until five minutes before you'd entered the hideout for the meet, you and Marcus weren't dropping your covers once the door to the room closes.

You can't. Not with Elio mentioning that they had installed hidden cameras throughout the hideout, and he couldn't guarantee that the security goons monitoring the feeds wouldn't leave any camera or audio device on in the private quarters.

Marcus had been fuming when you'd faked leaning in to flirt with The Jackal, and whispered about the cameras in the room upstairs. His eyes had hardened and his jaw clenched, but he feigned like he was annoyed by someone talking too loudly close to you both.

So, having not planned this part, you were anxious and exhilarated.

The door clicked shut behind you, and Marcus gave the room a cursory stare before turning to you and murmuring, "See? Much better. We can hear ourselves talk. Perhaps you'll repeat what you said downstairs?"

You feel butterflies in your stomach as you approach him sultrily and caress your hand over the lapel of his suit. "I said, I'm eager to partner with you, handsome," you purr, eyes inviting as you glance up at him through the fringe of your lashes.

"That's what I thought," Marcus husks before trailing his hand up your arm to graze along your shoulder before snaking across your collarbone and up to clasp the slender column of your neck and wrap his thick, dexterous fingers around your throat lightly. He can feel your pulse racing, so he backs you up slowly into the nearest wall before cradling your jaw with a possessive caress of his hand as he rumbles, "I like eager and beautiful women."

Your body reacts, arching into him as you tilt your head back and stare alluringly at him before he leans down and kisses you with voracious zeal.

You dimly wonder if it's truly improvised undercover work when you've wanted Marcus to kiss you like this for weeks – maybe even longer, if you were being honest with yourself.

Marcus is wound tight in his chest with worry, but the way you loop your arms around him and hum into his mouth when he deepens the kiss gives him some relief that maybe this isn't a complete clusterfuck. The thought that they could be watching you both, though, kept him on edge – focused on not getting carried away in how phenomenal having you like this was and instead hyperaware of staying on task.

Mercifully, before things got carried away, a clueless underling walked in on you both, which gave Marcus the perfect opportunity to showcase the infamous fury The Jackal was known for.

He was off of you and slamming the guy up against the doorframe in an instant, yoking him up and contumely cursing him out before the dude could stammer an apology and the girl he had brought up with him ran off to avoid any wrath herself.

Fracas smoothened over by the underling's leader, who profusely apologized to The Jackal, things went back on track as planned, and you were able to leave the hideout with a guarantee that your antiquity could be smuggled overseas and sold to your contact.

The final meeting for the sting operation, however, did not go as planned.

You'd made it all the way up to the handoff at the warehouse when the boss of the trafficking syndicate suddenly tried to change the terms of the deal, by trying to make you reveal the name of your buyer overseas. There you were, surrounded by underlings and enforcers who were packing the crate housing the artifact with the contraband supplied by The Jackal, when you had to smoothly refuse.

The burly man had approached you swiftly, making a veiled threat you'd already composed a rebuttal for when all hell broke loose. You don't even know how it happened, but one second the tactical team rushed in and the guy pulled out a knife while he was lunging to grab your elbow. In a blink, though, you're yanked away and the knife swung wide and slashed at one of the stacked bundles near the crate.

You'd given up on trying to regain your bearings with how your eyes and sinuses were burning, vision watering and stinging as you blindly let Marcus haul you out of the sting's warehouse – having barreled into danger to extract you. The unidentified powder was part of the narcotic contraband to be stored in the crate with the artifact, but the contents of the torn bundle went airborne and caked over you before he was able to whisk you out of the fray and to a safehouse.

Even in the hyper rushed aftermath, his ears were still ringing.

Marcus had yanked you away from being attacked or taken hostage, but not before the powder exploded out like a confetti-cannon over you while shots started ringing out in the warehouse.

The pink haze had the consistency of dry cement as it fluttered down, and even he wasn't spared the hit of it flitting against the side of his face in the chaos.

The fallout was technically his fault, but the main target of the sting had threatened you, so he'd rushed in with backup. The ensuing pandemonium of the raid and the frenzy of pink powder haze and bullets flying had made it a frenzied operation for him.

He'd acted first and thought second, which was not the norm for him. But the threat? It had propelled him to determinedly bust in to extract you, cover being blown be damned. As far as he was concerned, it was unimportant now and of little consequence to him.

Well, now, while he hissed and scrubbed the chemical residue from his face as he locked the door and engaged the security system, he did let his anger swirl up in him all over again.

He hears you coughing in the bathroom, and no matter how exasperating you've been, something fierce coils in his chest at the distressing sound of you dry heaving and gasping to catch your breath.

Tucking his service weapon into the holster underneath his leather jacket, Marcus finds his way down into the narrow hall where the bathroom is, squinting the entire way as he absently wipes at his heated features in attempt to get the strange powder removed.

He knocks on the door before grousing lowly, "Hey, you ok?"

You croak some sort of scoff before running the faucet again and trying to get the cakey residue out from your nostrils so you can breathe without wheezing. Once you've splashed water over your face, you mumble, "I think so."

The door cracks ajar before Marcus pokes his head in to survey you. "What?"

"I said, I think so," you snap, cupping your hands under the faucet and splashing water messily over your flushed features.

"Damn…here, come sit and let me have a look at you," you hear him grumble as his footsteps approach you from behind.

He cups your elbow and firmly tugs you away from the sink to steer you towards the bathtub's ledge, yanking a hand towel from a nearby rack as he sits you down so he can try helping you scrub the remnants of the bubblegum-pink powder off your face.

You sneeze, which causes an itchy sensation in the back of your throat that sends you into another coughing fit, so Marcus hurriedly gets the glass you'd left on the sink vanity and refills it with cool water before placing it in your hands and helping guide it to your lips.

"Small sips. Take it slow," he murmurs in a firm baritone, ignoring his own discomfort to tend to you.

"Mmph," you grunt before taking a breath and shaking your head. "What the hell—what is this stuff?!"

"I'm not sure—"

"What if it's some kind of toxin?!" you exclaim as you try to stare at him without having your eyes water from the menthol-like burn.

"It's not. Remember the narcotic contraband was loaned to us by DEA. There's no way they'd let something toxic be used for a sting—"

"Then why is this stuff making me feel like I just got hit with powdered speed?!" you gripe as you snatch the towel from his grip so you can scrub your face more.

Marcus feels feverish and antsy himself, so he goes to the sink and runs the tap to splash his own features with cool water. "Probably just an irritant from the pink dye—"

"Ugh, I'm covered in this crap," you grouse as you begin to scrub the damp cloth down your neck and decolletage, ignoring how your slinky black dress is hanging in a racy, askew manner at your bustline from the strap drooping off of your shoulder.

Marcus catches himself staring at your cleavage before he hoarsely clears his throat and turns away. "I'll go see if there's anything you can change into," he croaks as he rushes out of the bathroom, heading for the spartan bedroom at the end of the hall and into the armoire across from the bed.

It's then while he's muttering crossly to himself, that he realizes his phone is vibrating in his jacket's pocket. Swearing, he retrieves it and answers, "Pike."

"Jeez, man! I've been calling yah nonstop," the DEA partner, Agent Jarvis, who helped coordinate things with the narcotic contraband for the sting, is barking in his ear. "Where are you?!"

"At a safehouse—"

"I was told your asset got a face-full of one of the powder bricks when shit went south—"

"She did. I caught some too, in the melee of trying to extract her—"

"…Shit. Ok, so, we have a problem," Agent Jarvis warns, before seriously instructing, "Listen to me very carefully, Pike. You and your asset were exposed to Pheral. If you haven't already, you're going to start feeling some effects from it—"

"Whoa, what the hell are you talking about? Pheral? What even is that?"

"So, it's a designer drug out of Amsterdam that's becoming big in the affluent, socialite drug scenes at clubs all around the world. It's a synthetic chemical composite of human pheromones, but it's potent and has the same effects as doing ketamine and acid. However, it's a disinhibitor; it hits the system and can cause coronary distress—"

Marcus is listening in horror while the man instructs him to remove any tainted clothes and rinse the residue off as soon as possible, all as he feels the effects of the drug start to palpitate in his chest. His pulse had been racing and he'd chalked it up to the adrenaline of extracting you from the botched sting, but now he's realizing that it's an elevated sensation pounding in his veins and zinging south, making him feverishly aroused.

"—How do you stop it?! Is there an antidote?"

"Lab hasn't been able to come up with one yet. It's absorbed through mucus membranes, so it hits the bloodstream quick. Get as much fluids in her to clear it out as quick as possible, but mostly, just keep her from hurting herself, Pike. She's going to be jonesing for physical gratification like a hellcat in heat. It's supposed to be the ultimate aphrodisiac—a heightened state of euphoria, but only when done in dab-like doses. If she was doused bad…I don't know. Users get so desperate from the effects when they overdo it that they lose sense of their pain thresholds—"

"I gotta go."

Marcus ends the call quickly before discarding the phone and then pulls the holster with his gun from the back of his waistband to be plopped onto the dresser in order to sprint down the hall to check on you.

He hears you whimpering just before he burst through the bathroom door.

"M-Marcus."

You're in a state of amplified arousal that is bordering on hyperventilating distress. Sweat has broken out along your hairline, and your bare skin is dewy from the overheated racing of your pulse. The ache of desire has you squirming in discomfort, feeling hypersensitive and raw-nerved as you stare wildly up at him from where you're curled into the corner of the floor by the tub.

He rushes to your side to cradle you against him as he hurriedly turns the shower's faucet handle to start spraying cold water into the tub. He says your name firmly before explaining in a hoarse rasp, "—I gotta get this stuff off of you and you're gonna have to drink more water for me."

You sob and grip onto his shoulders, trembling as you whine, "What's happening?!"

"It's the drug," is all he says as he hastily sheds his leather jacket in order to ease his own overheated discomfort, grabbing the glass to fill it to the brim with water before chugging half of it and refilling it in order to kneel down and insistently press it to your lips so you can guzzle as much as you can. When you drink your fill and push the glass away, he blindly sets it down on the back of the commode's tank lid before he rasps, "Now, c'mon, dandelion. I gotta get you under the cold water—"

"Come in with me?" you plead as he lifts you to stand on shaky knees. "You got it all over you too, Marcus," is your watery whisper as you caress his face and swipe at the pink smudge on his cheekbone.

The contact to his skin makes Marcus shudder, and against his control, arousal throbs riotously into his apex and pulses in his loins.

Rock-hard now, he huffs raggedly as he insists, "I gotta take care of you first, so let me get this off of you."

You're feeling like liquid fire is thrumming under your skin and your pulse is at your center, blood pumping from the silken clutch in your pelvis rather than from the organ in your chest. The usual tingle of arousal is instead a rapacious, searing heat at your core – making you quiver and drip with desire while Marcus rushes to gently remove the slinky black cocktail dress off your torso.

Your blush feels like you've been sitting under the Saharan sun, and the brush of Marcus's touch over your ignited body has you shivering and biting back a whimper as he strips you to your black cotton and lace thong before lifting you into the tub and under the cold spray of the showerhead.

The yelp you let out when the water beats down on your bare skin has him scrambling to grab you as you writhe to be in his embrace. "N-No, the water will help—"

"It feels like needles!" you cry and cling to him, quivering as you grip on to him desperately and chatter, "You feel good," before nuzzling his neck and giving yourself over to the urge that's become an incandescent force inside your body.

Your bare breasts press against him, nipples studded and tingling for gratification while your pussy clenches at how good his skin tastes when you suckle a kiss into his neck.

Marcus can't keep a lid on his own baser urges any longer at your distress melting away the more you touch him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he gravels out and kisses your burning cheek, and at your breathy mewl, he kisses your mouth. The water on your body soaks into his shirt and jeans as you clamber to wrap your legs and arms around him with intoxicated urgency.

When he breaks the kiss to catch his breath, he has to soothe you when you whine for him.

"Can't—I can't just…don't want to lose control—"

You kiss him possessively and slink down his front while simultaneously yanking on his clothes he now desperately tries to peel off of himself.

Feeling his feverish skin press against yours after he shoves his clothes down and rushes to sit on the edge of the tub to kick the remainder off while simultaneously yanking you down – settling you to straddle onto his lap, you moan at having the length of his cock nestle against your damp cloth-covered crotch. You can feel your folds drench with arousal, making you ache to be split by him to the hilt – to be filled by his throbbing erection.

"No antidote—can't lose control. D-Don't want to hurt you," is all he's managed to string together as he gropes you against him and grazes wet, open-mouth kisses along your neck and jaw. Your clit throbs when he grips your waist and starts edging you onto his cock.

"You won't! W-Won't hurt me," you groan and encircle your arms around his shoulders before whining, "Please, please, Marcus—"

He shakes his senses loose of the horny haze to press, "Listen to me, wildcat. We need to wash this shit off. It'll be quick—we'll do it quick, and once it's off I'll do whatever you need—"

"Need you. Want you," you exhale in a frenzied state, staring with blown-out pupils at him as you start to pleasure yourself by rubbing your aching pussy along his cock. The friction of your soaked panties along his velvety, pulsing erection has Marcus buzzing from the electric pleasure sparking across his nerve endings.

"You'll have me, dandelion. C'mon, be a g-good girl for me," he husks and stands, holding you in his arms as you cling to him and whimper.

Once sure you won't bolt, he gets in under the shower spray with you.

The water doesn't feel as horrid against your skin as it had the first time, so you snap out of the hedonistic daze once Marcus has stood under the frigid spray for a few minutes and clumsily scrubbed the pink residue from your shoulders and back for you.

You hurriedly unlatch yourself from him to stand on quaking legs in order to wash the pink powder remnants quickly off your skin and hair, then help Marcus get it off his beard and neck while he lets the water spray directly into his face in hopes to get the maddening sensation to cease.

Now that the water going down the drain is no longer tinged in pink, you and Marcus maneuver so the spray can run down his back while you sway on your feet and try to regain your wits. Instead, you both end up standing in the cold cascade, staring into each other's flushed features.

It feels like a fever dream – seeing his naked body like this, and your pussy clenches around nothing when you caress your palms down his abs and watch his ruddy, pulsing erection twitch at your sensual touch.

He murmurs your name when you lean forward to kiss along his heated skin after nuzzling your face into his pecs, chasing his delectable scent.

You're dialed into this primordial attraction, so you kneel at his feet from how your mouth waters to have his cock stuffed in it – to have the weight of it on your tongue before he fills your pussy with it the way you're convinced he needs to in order to stop this feeling from consuming you like a leaf flung onto a blazing fire.

Marcus shakily cups your jaw as he rasps your name again, and at the skittish unease of his tone, you stare up at him and snake your other hand between your thighs to touch yourself while you mewl for permission to do what you hunger for. The sight of you has him trembling, and his thumb grazes over the corner of your mouth, attempting to tow you back up to him, but then you lick it and make a needy sound that sends a jolt of insatiable arousal to his cock.

"T-This'll make you feel better?" Is his hoarse whisper, cold cascading water raining onto his back completely forgotten.

"Yes, hot stuff. I want you in my mouth—"

He groans, muscles flexing in anticipation. "Wanna give you what you need, baby—"

You gratefully hum and finally put him in your mouth, savoring his salty pre-cum and the velvety smooth thick of him you suck lustfully on.

His hand buries in the back of your wet hair, a raspy moan tumbling from his lips as he grapples to stay balanced with the other planting against the tiled wall.

You're enthralled by his reaction, sucking him off while gripping the base of his cock and pumping him in your fist every time you let his thick cock slip from the warm purse of your mouth so you can catch your breath. All while you rut against the palm heel of your other hand to try and ease the ache of arousal pulsing beseechingly for gratification.

It's when you grind too hard and whimper like it hurts that finally snaps Marcus to focus on you and not the exquisite pleasure that you're giving him.

Your senses sway as Marcus manhandles you off your knees and picks you up to be carried out of the cold shower.

Latching your arms and legs around him with a yelp, you wail, "M-Marcus, wha—?"

"No hurting yourself," he grumbles heatedly as he hurriedly stalks as best as he can, in the state he's in, to the bedroom with you. "M'gonna make you feel good so you don't hurt yourself by accident—"

You hiccup, "Hurt?! What's h-happening to us, Marcus?"

He makes it into the room and puts you on the bed. You're both still drenched from the shower, and he eyes you intensely as he peels your soaked panties off of you whilst trying to soberly explain, "The pink powder? It's a designer drug. The way you're feeling—that we're both f-feeling is because of it. You got dosed with way too much of it—"

You rear up onto your splayed hands and gape at him once he's tossed your drenched thong aside. "C-Can't they give us something to counteract it—?" you begin, but he shakes his head vigorously and sends water droplets to halo about before a shudder makes him wring his hands across his overly-heated features.

He's still rock-hard, and completely naked in front of you now, and the insatiable force in you is suddenly dismissing your panic to instead fixate on him.

"Marcus?"

"Hmmph?"

"Are we going to die?"

"N-No! Jeez—no, of course not," he begins to assure as he drops his hands from his face and rushes to convince you, but ends up avidly staring as you provocatively spread your legs to show him how needy you are for him, keeping your gaze fixed on his blown-out pupils. He watches you sit up and beckon for him to come to you while you shimmy backwards onto the bed.

"Ok then. Take your socks off and get over here, now."

Marcus looks down and realizes that indeed, he still has his socks on. They're sopping wet from the shower, and explain why he had such a difficult time getting traction over the tile and floorboards as he carried you from the bathroom to the bed.

Yanking them off with as much dignity as he can muster, with how worked up and ravenous he is, Marcus tosses them and clambers onto the bed after you. You admire the way his broad, muscularly toned physique looks under the bedroom's track lighting, thrill tangling excitedly in your core at how thick and hard his ramrod cock is as it bobs from his prowling towards you.

Once he's in reach, you loop your arms around his shoulders and pull him down for a rapacious kiss, wanting to have his weight on top of you finally.

His hands are warm and assertive as he pulls you into him while his tongue plunders your mouth, and yours encouragingly grope down to grab his ass when you mewl and roll your hips into his.

He breaks the kiss suddenly, as if compelled to keep his wits about him while he stammers, "W-We don't have to do this. I-I can just—"

You roll your positions so that he's on his back with you straddling him now.

"You said I could have you. I want you, Marcus," you husk silkily as you brace your palms over his broad chest and undulated your hips to grind yourself against his ramrod cock. He groans and grips your thighs, so you lean down to kiss him before you purr against his panting lips, "Now let me have you, handsome."

Marcus feels like you've hit the payload that is his stockpiled arousal he's been trying to keep buried deep in his gut, unleashing a feral desire he's never allowed himself to experience.

You gasp in surprise when he sits up and lifts you by your waist so he can nudge his cock between your soaked folds in order to notch the smooth tip at your dimpled entrance before plunging you onto him to the hilt.

The moan that falls from your lips comes out almost like an overawed wail at how amazing he feels inside you, making you arch into him and cling to his shoulders as he starts fucking up into you with bruising, ruinously precise thrusts that have him stroking nerve-melting pleasure to flare inside you.

"Oh my god!" you cry out when Marcus starts using one hand clutching the small of your back to slam you over and over onto his cock while the other squeezes one breast before pinching your nipple while he suckles the other into his mouth.

He barely registers the sting of your nails pinching into his upper back when you whimper his name after a particularly nippy suckle onto your pebbled flesh, and he doesn't realize how overcome you are with pleasure until you start begging in a frantic tone he's never heard you use.

"Marcus, I—I can't—oh Marcus! Please—"

His hand abandons your breast to instead grip the back your neck and anchor you to him as he nuzzles your cheek and soothingly coos, "Tell me, gorgeous girl."

You feel overwhelmed. The heat of it singed across your face. It has you sobbing against his jaw, "I want more – w-want you to use me. Please, Marcus. I need you—"

There's something primordial that you're both dialed into, and at your words, Marcus just knows what he needs to give you.

Pivoting up on the bed with you, he tosses you onto the mattress before manhandling you onto your hands and knees so he can possessively yank your hips to be positioned just right for him to spear his cock back into your molten pussy from behind.

"Fuck," Marcus grits between clenched jaw at how your walls clamp greedily onto his shaft while you let out a sound akin to a hearty cry of triumph. When he crowds you and starts to pound into you insatiably, he moans at how you rock back to meet his thrusts.

You feel like an animal in heat. Like all there is right now is his cock inside you and his body enveloping around you and his taste and his scent and his sweat and it all has your head spinning in the best way while you interlace your fingers in his and crane your neck out so his face can fit perfectly in the crook as he suckles on your dewy skin.

For Marcus, it's like something was turned on inside him – an undiscovered feeling of belonging and power and accomplishment was cresting free, and the more he reveled in you, the hotter and brighter it was burning in his chest.

It was so liberating that he let his feelings escape the hive-like place in his heart where he kept them trapped away.

"You make me feel things I've never felt before," is growled into your jaw, and you clench around his cock like a silken vise while you moan and arch into him.

"Marcus—"

"M'gonna protect you. Was scared—scared I'd lose you—"

You whimper, "Oh, Marcus—"

"Tell me what you want, wildcat," he gravels in a rough timbre that rakes exhilarated desire through you.

"Fuck me, Marcus. Want you to fuck me until this feeling stops—until I'm yours. M-Make me yours—"

All inhibitions are gone from him now.

Marcus fucks you with abandon, railing you with such ferocity that you're turned into an alight, moaning mess as bliss tears you asunder with a deliriously scorching orgasm that has you bowing down into the bed while Marcus pounds through your fluttering cunt flooding his apex with your climax.

His hands grip your hips as he pivots back onto his haunches and prolongs your ecstasy, eyes glazed with his lust for you and watching you continue to mindlessly rock back to meet his thrusts.

He's throbbing for release, but this heightened state of arousal caused by the drug has an insatiable, prolonging effect – extending his libido's hold-out like a refractory period.

When you dissolve into the bed face-first with an exhausted mewl, Marcus pulls out and marvels at how much slick coats his cock and drips down his apex.

The scent of sex permeates the once sanitized-smelling air that came from the filtered vent system. The room feels humid from how elevated your body temperatures are, blood pressure feeling like it's sky-high as your pulses race. He knows that's dangerous, and in the syrupy miasma of his sex-dazed mind, he remembers the instructions he was given.

You are a blitzed-out heap of tingling nerve endings. So much so, you barely absorb when Marcus rumbles, "Gonna get more water. Be right back, dandelion," as he rolls you onto your back and pets the damp hair sticking to your warm skin away from your face.

"Stay," you mumble and take his hand, kissing the inside of his palm.

He grunts a reassuring sound before kissing your forehead and promising, "I'll be right back."

You vacantly nod and roll on your side with a tired sigh.

Marcus strings together enough control of his fine motor skills to rush out of the bedroom and go for the closest source of water. He enters the bathroom and finds the shower spray still on – having not realized he'd completely forgotten to turn it off. After doing so now, he grabs the discarded glass and refills it in the sink. He guzzles several glass-fills down, feeling more clearheaded the more he rehydrates. His body is running hot, tremors of arousal like muscle spasms in his apex that leave a tingling throb in his loins and have him idly palming and stroking his erection – gauging the muted sensation compared to normal – as he chugs the last of the water before he tops the glass off to take back to you.

When he enters the bedroom, he finds you still on the bed, but you're now restlessly trying to get yourself off – hand between your thighs and panting harshly as you grind against it.

He goes to your side and places the glass down on the night table before wrangling you into his arms.

"No, you'll hurt yourself doing that," he protests while you whine and squirm in his embrace. "I'll take care of you, baby. Just settle down enough to drink some water—"

"I don't want water. I want you," you complain heatedly, slinging your arms around his neck to anchor him down into bed with you.

He picks you up to maneuver you both on the disheveled covers, attempting to appease you before pressing, "I know. I want you too, wildcat. But you need to get fluids—"

"Marcus, you need to keep fucking me until you give me those," is your raunchy counter, smiling when he gapes at you before you start kissing along his cheek and suckle on his earlobe. He groans and ruts up against you, so you purr, "Please, I need you inside me. All of you—"

"Alright, then sit on my cock, naughty girl," he husks bawdily and clasps his hand to the back of your nape to tow you back so he can stare intensely into your dazzling eyes as you squirm in excitement. "You can use me – ride me as hard as you want. But first, you have to drink the water for me."

You look sinfully delicious as you worry your bottom lip between your teeth and arch your brows to obediently nod while already reaching between your bodies to guide his erection to be aligned with your plunging undulation over his lap.

Marcus groans hoarsely and guides you to remain still – flush over where you're both now joined – before hurriedly reaching for the glass and offering it to you.

Compliantly, you drink, and realize how parched you are, so you end up chugging the water until you gasp in relief and uncaringly glide the glass back onto the night table before burying your hand into the back of his damp hair and pull him into a hungry kiss.

Your tongue flicks and twirls against his as you start to fuck yourself onto his cock, mewling heatedly from the effort while Marcus fondles his hands possessively over the globes of your ass before squeezing them when he bucks up into you.

After you reach bliss riding him, shouting his name and staring at him in euphoric satisfaction, Marcus rolls you onto your back so he can dominate you into the bed, spinning you up into delirium all over again as he snaps his hips into a devastating angle that has him colliding dead-center with your nested pleasure clustered deep inside your fluttering sheath.

Time is lost to you both as you couple like animals during mating season.

He can't count how many times he makes you come, nor keep track of all the positions he takes you in, and you're so far flung in the throes of insatiable need that you don't realize until he's just got you off after fucking you with your legs propped up against his shoulders, that he hasn't orgasmed once.

While he slows his barreling thrusts into you once you've melted breathlessly under him, Marcus kisses along the crook of your neck and relishes how you quiver from the aftershocks of your climax. He's just about to shift back and pull out when you clench your floor muscles suddenly around him.

"Oh fuck, mmph," he moans gruffly before maneuvering your legs off of his shoulders and hooking the backs of your knees at his forearms so he can rear back and haul you with him as he says your name warningly and growls, "—You keep doing that and I'm going to lose control."

Your pussy aches, every muscle is sore and protesting, but still the insatiable heat persists, so you stare sultrily at him under heavy lids and coo, "I want you to lose control, you dope. Want you to fuck me until you come, and then keep fucking me until we both can't move or think anymore—"

He swears gruffly, but you feel his cock throb inside you, clearly betraying how enticed he is.

"It's not like I've been holding back. The drug takes the edge off and changes our pleasure and pain thresholds; affects sensation. I don't think I could come even if I tried," Marcus admits lowly as he wrings his hand over his heated features, clearly embarrassed.

"Hey, M."

"Hmm?"

"You're gorgeous when you're all flustered and naked and hard," is your silky murmur, smile cheeky when he pauses swiping the sweat off his brow to stare at you heatedly. Your smile sobers meekly as you admit in a mumble, "And, you're so sexy. Even when you're being maddening and all I want to do is wring your neck and run away…"

Marcus feels that incandescent pressure in the back of his sternum – the one that makes him feel like his ribs ache but feel full at the same time.

Overawed, he sits back on his heels and pulls out of you with a hiss before leaning over you to kiss a worshipful path up from your navel to your jaw. After he presses a kiss to your cheek, he nuzzles your ear before murmuring, "Don't run away. Stay with me, dandelion."

You feel stripped raw and soothed over at the same time by his words, and before you can stop it, your heart wrings in your chest as you confess, "I want to. I've wanted to for a while, b-but I can't help feel this way—"

He props up to gaze wondrously at you. "Feel what way?"

"Ugh!" you groan and cover your eyes with your forearm, too jelly-jointed to do much else to keep your frazzled guard up. "You know, M—"

"No, I don't," he firmly huffs and stretches out onto his side next to you in order to pull your forearm away so you have to look at him.

"…It doesn't matter. This is a mistake – a fluke accident and the weirdo horny mating drug doesn't change that reality—"

"What reality?"

"This!" you shout and weakly gesture between you and him. "Whatever this has become is a mess. I am a fool to feel this way, knowing how reckless you think I've been already and how badly you want to be done with the hassle—"

"…You're serious," Marcus deadpans, derailing your ramble, and when you focus on him, he scoffs and shakes his head, as if astounded, before rumbling in a honeyed baritone, "You don't even know, do you?"

You frown, confused.

Marcus sidles close, dark brown eyes softening as he exhales sardonically before caressing your chin between forefinger and thumb so you can't turn your face as he looks at you purposefully.

"I feel the same way," he tells you, smirking softly before professing, "I love you."

You can feel his body heat and see the unwavering truth in his handsome face, and your flustered mind is processing that this is real while you're carnally supercharged already for him.

"That's the drug talking—"

"No, it's not—"

"Marcus—"

"If you don't feel that way, it's fine—"

"That…that's not it. I'm saying we can't trust what we're feeling right now. We're literally in heat—"

"I fell in love with you before getting hit in the face with pink dust, wildcat—"

"Attraction is not the same as love, Marcus—"

"Oh trust me, I've learned that the hard way plenty already," is his deriding huff as he tucks his chin and smiles self-deprecatingly.

You pout and cup his bearded cheek, caressing it lovingly before mumbling, "You're too good for me. Literally – I don't think I can take how sweet and considerate and…and wonderful you are—"

He says your name huffily before caressing his touch along your side reassuringly, crooning, "—Don't be like that. A sexy little smartass like you can't be contrary all the time."

"Oh yeah? You're seriously not dying to unload me, after everything?" you mutter as you brush your lips along his bearded jaw and card your fingers through his hair. "It isn't just the libido drug making you talk crazy?"

"All the drug is making me do is stay rock-hard and be bold about saying how I feel," he says honestly, and smirks when you hum interestedly before palming his thick erection. When you trace your touch along the underside of the shaft, he husks throatily, "You've clearly grown on me, dandelion. P-Pressed all my buttons, made sport out of challenging me daily, and I hated it all…until I started liking it."

You feel your heart summersault in excitement at that, so you nuzzle his cheek after you carve your hips around his to nestle his throbbing hard-on against your warm, wet pussy, lightly grinding on it as you whisper, "Liking is not the same as lov—"

"Tell me how you feel."

You pause and stare into his eyes. Pressed this close together, you can see how brown his irises are, and how free of judgment they are twinkling soulfully at you.

"I—I care…care more than I ever have, and I feel things that I haven't felt—that I haven't felt in a long time. I just…" you trail off, huffing at yourself before admitting, "The way I feel about you is something I don't know how to manage."

Marcus keeps your hips rocking against him, all the while you flustered to the truth.

"That kind of sounds like the same thing I'm telling you I feel about you, stubborn girl," is his amused rumble. You can't help snort and bashfully curl into him. He doesn't let you hide your face in his neck, though. "C'mon, look at me."

You do, shivering when he cups your jaw and pins you into place with his passionate stare.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you whisper, feeling like you've just jumped off a cliff with no idea what's beyond the precipice.

But the look Marcus gives you – the way his handsome features brighten with delighted surprise, it makes something twinge warm and hopeful in your chest. You kiss him before girlishly scoffing, then stammering, "W-What're we going to do?"

"Right now?" Marcus sits up and caresses his hand down your body to touch where your warmth is flush up against his twitching member. You mewl and melt a little when he teasingly grazes his lips over yours before purring, "Right now, we're gonna keep fucking like rabbits until this damn drug is out of our systems."

You giggle enticingly before timidly snickering, "I'm exhausted, cowboy. I don't think I can manage doing anything but this right now," as you undulate against him for emphasis.

Smirking, Marcus hums, affectionately squeezing your thigh as he croons, "I got an idea."

He assertively rolls you over onto your opposite side and spoons up behind you while possessively fondling your curves. You mewl at the feeling of his warm body up against you from behind while his cock starts rutting against your pulsing womanhood.

Marcus lets you acclimate and simply revel in the feeling of being in his covetous embrace while you rock back against him lustfully. When he starts pressing his throbbing arousal into your pussy from behind, you moan an ecstatic little sound before whimpering, "More, Marcus. Please."

With a deft thrust, he gives you more, and more, as he cups your pussy and grinds his fingertips over the hood of your clit while grazing his teeth down your neck to claim it with a rough kiss at the base.

You reach your arm backwards to sling around his neck so you can keep his mouth on you while you both set a ravenous rhythm, bucking backwards onto him while he fucks forward into you.

The hand that cradles the curve of your waist tightens when you cry his name and desperately loop both your arms backwards to hold onto him as you're lost to the euphoric ecstasy of reaching bliss like this.

Marcus aches when you sob a gratified cry, and he feels pride crackle in his chest when your hands grip the hair at the base of his nape so you have leverage to pivot in his grip in order to kiss him passionately.

His cock pulses inside you when you break the kiss to lick at his bottom lip before you susurrate, "I want you to fill me with your cum, Marcus."

Incredibly turned on by the prospect, Marcus bucks into you with a gruff groan before gravelling tensely, "Now that's the drug talking—"

"No, it isn't," you contradict and look at him with sultry heat blazing in your eyes as you purr, "What's a girl gotta do to get you off, Pikey boy."

You feel him strain enticingly against your fluttering walls at the pet name, which has you shivering in delight just as Marcus growls, "Keep telling me what you want. Please."

That has you divulging things. Some seductive things, like, 'Want you to be all mine, cowboy,' and some salacious, authoritative orders, like, 'Fuck me like you want me, Marcus. I want you. I'll let everyone know you're mine, but only if you make me yours.'

The more you tell him what you want, the more worked up into searing arousal Marcus gets as he buries his moans into the back of your neck whilst he fucks you faster and harder – hands clutching you to him as your pitch gets more alight from your own pleasure cresting incandescently through you.

He's feral with need by the time he's got you on your stomach with your ass up for him to plunder his cock deep into your fluttering cunt. You're blitzed out – lasciviously keyed into the wild throes of carnal elation of being ravished by him. Sweat and slick and the heat of your flesh pressed together is making both your senses flare with rapturous yearning – panting breaths wild as you both are finally at the precipice of savage release together.

At his thrusts picking up frenzied pace that has your warm flesh colliding rhythmically over your hearty sounds of pleasure, you press the button he didn't know he had in him.

"Please, m-make me yours, sweet boy—"

The exhilarating, searing pleasure that snaps loose from Marcus at your airy mewl has him barreling ferociously into you while moaning in guttural, incredulous bliss just as you cry out and orgasm with him.

He buries his cock deep and clings over you as he shudders through the bursts of his climax that fill your rippling sheath while you exhale a rapturous, sated sound and melt under him, toes curled and arms draped around his as they clutch you to him. You feel made whole as the warm bloom of his spend filling you diffuses through you, and Marcus feels like lightning struck him and the electric buzz still scintillates through his sinew.

Reduced to trembling, breathless heaps tangled against each other, you and Marcus lay on the sullied sheets for a while. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, and he can feel your pulse against the hand pressed between the bed and your womb. Neither of you can think beyond the content reassurance that the other is still there, warm and safe.

Feeling returned to yourself a disorienting amount of time later, you shift clumsily under him to squirm around and face him. Marcus heavily rolls off of you and grunts from the effort, but groggily rubs at his forehead to get the matted hair off his skin.

You tiredly rest your hand on his tacky chest, caressing it along his broad pectorals soothingly.

"…You ok?"

"…Yeah…can't move."

"Same…you feel ok?"

Marcus snorts exhaustedly before lulling his head to stare with hooded eyes at you. "M'feelin' like I fucked a marathon. You?"

You snicker girlishly. "I'm feeling like the marathon you fucked."

His laugh is raspy, features dewy and relaxed from sweat and all the over-exertion. Your hand reaches up to trace his bearded jaw, affectionately caressing along it until he hums and closes his eyes contently.

"Do you still feel in heat?"

"It's more of an aroused little tickle now versus the raging inferno of insatiable mania of before," you answer as you continue to caress his handsome features. "You?"

With a cleansing exhale, Marcus rumbles thickly, "About the same. I'm gonna need a few before I can go again, though—"

"Oh my god. I just said I'm not in nymphomaniac-mode anymore, you dope—"

You catch his sly smirk when he cracks an eye open to goadingly peer over at you. "You're cute when you're all worked up, gorgeous—"

With a scoff, you silkily mutter, "You're so lucky I'm too wrecked to slap you around, hot stuff—"

"C'mon, wildcat. Wouldn't you rather just have your way with me instead?"

You laugh, as if intrigued, before sidling up to him and giving him an alluring look, purring, "Is that what you want, sweet boy?"

Marcus feels arousal skitter down into his loins, zinging pulsing want into his cock before he can even try to not react to the titillating pet name that was much of his undoing.

"Yes. That's what I want, wildcat," he husks, too tired to be timid about it.

Appeased, you slink up against him and loop your arm around his midriff. "Good," you lilt around a yawn before murmuring, "That's what I want too, sweet boy. After we conk out for a bit."

His chuckle is like rich honey to your senses, and the warm tingle that tickles down into your womb when he nuzzles a kiss to the top of your mussed hair has you shivering with delight.

"Sounds like a plan, dandelion."

_____________________________

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful.

Taglist:

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x OFC #Marcus Pike fan fiction #The Mentalist #The Mentalist fan fiction #Marcus x Dandelion #ROGUEFURY's 400 followers drabble prompt #drabble prompt #ROGUEFURY's 400 follower drabble prompt

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morallyinept · 9 months

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A list of all my favourite MAXWELL LORD Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Dancing With Myself, & Frankie Say Relax Maxwell x M!OC - @ghostofaboy

It Could Be Better Series - @boliv-jenta SexWorker!Maxwell

A Man's World Series Switch!Maxwell, Grapefruit & Vodka & Rings & Recordings - @coastielaceispunk

In The Heights Part 1 & Part 2 - @wardenparker

Sheer - @prolix-yuy PlusSize!Reader

The Election Senator!Max, Kinktober Oct 28th Flogging, The Masked Initiation, The Right Formula & Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @absurdthirst

Anything You Want Subby!Max & Congratulations - @palioom

Flufftober 24 Wonder Woman 1984 - @dyns33

Gold Rush Series & Rumour Has It - @thewayofthemandalorian

No Rules - @violetmuses

What I Want - @flightlessangelwings

Fools Gold - @missredherring

To Wish For A Chance - @lunariafe

Mastermind - @mandoalorian

Shutterbug & Jackpot - @lowlights

I'd Punch You But That'd Ruin That Pretty Little Face - @forever-rogue

Kissing In The Rain - @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

Why Did You Do It? - @simpingcowboy GN!Reader

Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @toomanystoriessolittletime Couldn't pick just one!

Kinktober Maxwell Series - @toomanystoriessolittletime Modern!Maxwell

Surprise Visit - @holobandit

Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @pintsizemama Couldn't pick just one!

Recovery & A Deserved Break Sub!Max - @pumpkin-stars

Gender Swap, A Christmas Wish & Role Play - @supernaturalgirl20

Rings - @honestly-shite GN!Reader

Blissful Sensations & Greed SugarDaddy!Maxwell - @whiskeynwriting

Maxwell Lord Masterlist & Wild, Unknown Men Series Featuring Marcus Pike Great Gatsby AU - @starlightmornings

I Think I Want It - @lavendertales

Do You Remember Yesterday? - @soft-persephone

Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @musings-of-a-rose Couldn't pick just one!

Of Thieves & Wishes - @maxwell--lord Featuring The Thief

Webcams - @bitchin-beskar

Working Overtime - @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Feels Like Christmas - @gosmigenergy

Stiff - @idolatrybarbie

The First Time For Everything - @palioom

Picture This - @ghostofaboy M!Reader

#pedro pascal characters #fic recs #maxwell lord #maxwell lord wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord wonder woman #wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal character fics #pedro pascal character stories

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wannab-urs · 11 months

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The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol. 9

Hi friends!! This week I read several series that had like... a lot of parts... including ones I've previously recced but just now finished (Looking at you Lie To Me by @iamskyereads). I also went to Pride and basically read nothing from Saturday to Monday. That being said, I'm pretty proud of the amount of fics I was able to scrounge up for y'all this week, and I think we have a pretty good selection.

The Spreadsheet can be found here and you're always welcome to tag me in a fic or send it to my askbox if you want me to read it (I'll read any Pedro boy!).

Recs below the Pedro:

Puppet - an Ezra one shot by @jksprincess10

I love these fics that are like "What if we went to extreme lengths to shut Ezra the fuck up," and I especially love how this one ends. Also the side effect bit made me giggle. You're a genius, Nad <3

Hot and Heavy - a Joel series by @tieronecrush

I think I established recently that I'm a sucker for the nanny trope. We also know I love angst. So here we have one of those time bomb relationships where we know it's gonna end, not once, but twice. Excellent angst/tention building. Then we also have super fucking sexy delicious smut, Joel being a fucking adorable father, reader being like actually awesome... and I lowkey think readers mom is on it but that's just me. OH and "Mariposa" are you KIDDING ME?! perfect.

Run to You - a Marcus Pike series by @foli-vora

Talk about angst... and it's fucking PERFECT. The little flashback scenes and then the sharp cut to such a painful present situation UGH. The world building is excellent. The characterization is so fucking good bc of COURSE Marcus would fall in love on an op of fucking course he would. Marcus "Marry Me" Pike over here. Fucking idiot. I love him. I can't wait to see how this story progresses. It is so. fucking. good.

Pretend Alleyways - a Dieter/Marcus Moreno series by @radiowallet

Would I ever have thought about pairing up Marcus Moreno and Dieter Bravo? No. Am I eternally grateful someone put my two softboys together? YES. They are so perfect together. So sweet and precious. They need each other fr. This made me all warm and fuzzy inside and also horny obviously.

Like Water in Your Hands - a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters (Part of the Punisher anthology)

I. Love. This. So. Fucking. Much. Top tier. The smut? The plot? The characterization? Queen shit.

Don't Be Scared - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Din being scared/nervous omg. So cute and sexy. I love him so much UGH. Looking forward to the Din revival fr

the lakes - a Joel one shot by @tieronecrush (Part of the folklore anthology)

This is literally one of my greatest non-smutty fantasies with Joel. Just telling him how much he means to me and promising to be there for him and convincing him to let himself be happy and comfortable. I wanna hug that man so bad AGH. This was beautiful Sam <3

Summer Lovin' - a Joel one shot by @atinylittlepain

I don't know why I've been reading so much asshole!Joel lately.... but I'm loving it. I love all the little details in this. I was genuinely pissed the fuck off at Joel. I have more sympathy for the ice cream than that fucking idiot. Sarah, his ex, and reader all deserve so much better than that dipshit UGH

Unusual Situation - a Din/Ezra one shot by @absurdthirst

Not only am I back on my Din/Reader/Ezra bullshit AND my M/M/F bullshit in general, but this is the fic that caused it. These two space idiots were meant to be together, I am 100% certain. The way Ezra manages to gently reassure Din that reader wants him while they're both balls deep in various holes....??? How do you do it. How do you make something tender and sweet while also being complete and utter filth. I am fascinated.

Of Gorgons and Gardens - a Din/Ezra series by @concussed-to-pieces

Following the absurdthirst story, I found this one.... and boy howdy. I am a SLUT for sex pollen fics, so obviously that was excellent. I also love how it was like "oh the plant makes men want to fuck women" but hinted that neither of them would be particularly upset about fucking each other either. Mando was like... i don't give a fuck, dude. And then it went from absurdly smutty (but also kinda sweet) in part one, to just like tender and sweet in part two. Like yeah yeah horrible harrowing near death experience yada yada... the STUBBLE SCENE??? The PAIN KINK?? the TOUCHING?? I just about died. And then in part three we get my top all time kink PLUS Din and Ezra and Reader just being so sweet it hurts a little. I am feral for these boys UGH. AND AND the nickname being bird in mando'a was so clever??

Late July - a Jack (Whiskey) series by @concussed-to-pieces

So I read the Din/Ezra thing and obviously had to peruse the masterlist. I love my dear appalachian cowboy. I really really liked the whole premise of this story and the follow ups. The smut is fucking masterful but also like hello, plot??? Truly incredible. I really liked seeing frat-boy Jack and also seeing him work through his trauma and shit. But also Jack tied to a chair need I say more?

Defanged - a Din one shot by @concussed-to-pieces

Alright so this one is the same sex pollen from OGaG but it doesn't hurt which is super dope. Hey Alexa play "In Love with a Stripper" but it's Din in love with a sex worker just bc he put his dick in her. I fuckin love this.

hunt and peck - a Javi P one shot by @toxicanonymity

You really said lets take this slut and make him even hornier and I LOVE IT.

----------oldies but goodies-----------

soft!dom joel - a Joel a series by @joelscruff

Letterman Jacket - a Javi P series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

I want you to stay - a Dieter one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Below the Line - a Dieter series by @prolix-yuy

Midnight Rider a Jack (Whiskey) one shot by jazzelsaur (ao3)

Rare - a Joel a one shot by @swiftispunk

One Hundred and Fifty Seven - a Din one shot by @theidiotwhowritesthings

Heatwaves - a Javi P two shot by @mishasminion360

In the Dark - an Ezra series by @frannyzooey (favorite ez ever maybe)

Lover of mine - a Dieter one shot by @psychedelic-ink

Morning - a Dieter series by @write-and-buried

--------------my recents-------------

In the next one - based on Lucy Dacus' (boygenius) song We're in Love and a standalone addition to my loose fit Dieter series A Ghost of You - focuses on Dieter's belief that he's been with you in every single past life and lost you in each of them + him coming to terms with his belief that he'll lose you in this one too.

----------------------------------------

Happy Reading

#the spreadsheet digest #vol 9 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #fic recs #joel miller fics #ezra (prospect) fics #din djarin fics #marcus moreno fics #Jack Daniels fics #Mandalorian fics #Agent Whiskey fics #marcus pike fics

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littlemisspascal · 2 years

Text

The Infinity Cube Part 20

Main Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Word Count: 3400+

Series Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

Warnings for the chapter: language, Devil!Dio deserves a warning for being Devil!Dio, making out, inspiration from Star Wars Rebels + JLU, references to previous chapters, fluff + angst,

Author Note: One year later and here we are, the final chapter. I’ve had this ending in mind from the very beginning and I can’t believe it’s finally over 😭💜 I want to thank every single reader of this series, seriously y’all’s support has meant the absolute world to me and gave me the motivation to keep writing this crazy roller coaster. Fingers crossed y’all enjoy it and also be sure to keep an eye out for an epilogue coming soon 👀

Special shoutout to @beecastle for talking me out of losing my sanity several times and helping me cross the finish line 💗

PART 1 / PART 19

Gif by: @nicolethered

You find yourself looking up at a large, solid white house draped in ivy vines with circular windows and, if you squint enough against the blinding afternoon sunlight, a rooster weathervane on top of the roof. It’s a nice place, charming in its own unique way, but whose it belongs to and why you’re standing in front of it are two questions you lack the answers to.

Despite being in an unknown location, you’re not afraid. There’s no hint of tension in your muscles or anxious thoughts spinning circles in your head. Instead there’s only a numbing sort of calmness, a sense of certainty telling you you’re in the right spot.

You’re thinking about walking up the front porch steps and knocking on the door, but then, as if reading your mind, it swings open and an impatient Dio appears in the doorway, looking down his nose at you.

“Finally,” he says, enunciating every syllable with a punch of passive-aggressiveness. “Took you long enough. I’m starting to get gray hairs, Specs.”

Eyebrows lifting, you do a double-take of your surroundings, then look back at Dio, expression still bitchy.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, more confused than fearful. “Where are we?”

“Oh, right, duh, where are my manners?” Dio makes a show of smacking himself in the forehead. “Welcome to my own little corner of hell. Yes, yes, I know it’s beautiful so stop staring and get your ass inside.”

After huffing out an incredulous laugh, you obey, finding the inside of the house to be just as pretty and solid white as the outside. White walls, white floor with a white rug, white furniture and accessories all elegantly arranged. You stand in the living room, thinking it looks as if Dio copied a page out of Better Homes & Gardens, and the thought is so absurd it has you rubbing at your nose to conceal a smile.

“I asked if he robbed Pottery Barn,” a voice chimes in from behind.

You whirl around, finding a woman sitting in a chair nestled in the corner. One look at her face has your heart freezing solid in your chest. It’s quite possible your brain has stopped functioning too, because there’s no way it can be her, that she can be here with you in the same space.

“Stranger things have happened.”

Your eyes widen. “Can you…?”

“No, I can’t read your thoughts,” she says, mouth curling up with a smile. “Our face, however, is an open book. We’d be absolutely shit at poker.”

It’s so easy, so casual, the way she confirms who she is. And you would have laughed at her remark if your brain wasn’t too busy exploding.

You’d seen a photo of the thief and his dear, saw she wore the same face as your own. Still, being here together, looking at her as a real, living and breathing person, a carbon copy of yourself, is so fucking bizarre.

Dearheart, in contrast, seems calm and composed, expression almost serene. It occurs to you then with a bright flash of clarity, she’s finally free. After countless cycles of temptation and heartache and endless waiting, she’s no longer a prisoner of the cube.

Your eyes well up with tears before you can stop them, chest constricting with emotion, and a sob escapes your throat. It catches up to you all at once—you solved the Infinity Cube, the long journey has finally finished, you can go home. It’s all finally over.

Dearheart stands up and throws her arms around you, uncaring of how you immediately bury your face in her shoulder, sobs wracking your body with every gasp of breath. Your hands grab fistfuls of her shirt, finding comfort in her physicality, in her quiet shushings and murmurings.

“You did it,” she tells you over and over again, squeezing you tighter, and there are tears in her voice now too. “You saved us.”

You don’t know how long the two of you stand there, hugging and crying, but Dio’s patience only lasts so long before he’s pointedly clearing his throat.

“As much as I love witnessing touching moments,” Dio starts, completely unaffected by the twin glares directed his way, “we three have much to discuss.”

Although you hate to admit it, you know Dio’s right. You scrub at your burning eyes and wipe away the residual tears clinging to your cheeks. It’s actually more than a little embarrassing, being the one being comforted instead of offering it to Dearheart. Swallowing harshly against the thick lump in your throat, you manage to croak out, “Start talking, Dio. Why are we here exactly?”

Dio drops down onto the couch, arms casually stretched wide over the fluffy white pillows. “The cube brought you both here, back to where it all began.” He smiles then, a wide thing with too many teeth. “I never said congratulations to you Specs, did I? Welcome to the finish line, you clever girl.”

“I didn’t do it alone,” you reply, thinking of Javi’s help and of Dearheart’s hints along the way. You turn to look at her, finding her already staring back. “That was you, right? Marie Shaid and the book?”

“Not entirely. With my magic, I can’t create matter out of thin air, only alter how people perceive it. The book was real, in that universe, at least. All I did was make you see it a little differently,” Dearheart says. Her gaze falls to her hands then, turning them over palms up and wiggling her fingers. You swear you glimpse little sparkles of light leaping between the digits, almost like firecrackers. “That trick nearly drained me of my magic, but I had to get your attention somehow.”

You stay quiet, staring at her hands still faintly glowing. It makes sense she has magic—after all, the thief had also possessed it and Dearheart is from the same universe. Still, actually witnessing it up close is enough to send your head spinning. Just when you thought there wasn’t much more the multiverse could surprise you with, it throws you Dio, his picturesque white house, and your variant with magical powers all at once.

“Be careful, would you? I’m still trying to get rid of the magic stains from your partner’s failed attempt to steal from me,” Dio gripes, but there’s mischief glittering in his dark eyes, indicating he knows exactly which buttons he’s pushing. “We don’t want a repeat of past mistakes now, do we?”

Dearheart’s eyes narrow, hands curling into fists, and your own tongue burns as if it can feel the scathing retort she’s about to unleash. You quickly intervene before any furniture or limbs end up broken. “Dio, we made a deal, remember? I solve the cube and you make sure everything goes back to the way it was.”

Dio smirks, and it’s the same little mean curl of his mouth you’d previously thought made him look like a cat who caught a canary. It bothers you now to see it just as much as it did then. “Of course I remember.”

A beat of silence follows. The kind of quiet before a bomb drops, before everything irreparably changes and what was familiar is gone. Lost forever.

Your alternate self must feel it too, this almost tangible fizzle in the air, because she steps closer, arms brushing. A touch that says: you’re not alone. Not anymore.

The Devil sits up, bracing his forearms on his knees while pinning you with his stare. “I have a question for you, Specs. And it might just be the hardest one you’ll ever have to answer in your whole life, but once you do, I’ll send you home. Both of you,” he corrects before you can argue.

“I don’t like this,” Dearheart mutters, and you tilt your head in wordless agreement. Unfortunately, as guests in Dio’s home, you don’t have much of a choice.

Exhaling a quiet breath, you ask Dio, “What’s the question?”

He studies you for a long moment, like he can see straight through to your fractured heart and tender soul, expression uncharacteristically blank. The seconds of quietness stretch on, each one adding to the weight pressing down on your lungs.

And then, “Do you wish to forget?”

Your heartbeat stutters. “Wh-what?”

“Not many can say they successfully fulfilled a deal with the Devil. You’ve…impressed me, Specs,” Dio says, and a beam of sunlight bounces off his silver star earring, as blinding as it is surprisingly beautiful. “So, I’m giving you a choice. Carry the memories of all your precious Brown Eyes back home with you, or leave them behind.”

You’re uncomfortably aware of the two pairs of eyes watching you, waiting for your response. You turn the question over in your head for a second, thinking about how you feel, about your conversation with Javi. He’s already forgotten about you. Everyone you’ve ever met across the multiverse has had their lives reset, none the wiser you ever crossed paths at all.

Is it really so bad to want that same blissful ignorance they have?

You make the mistake of glancing at Dearheart. One look at your face, and she already knows what you’re going to choose. One look at hers, and you know she’s okay with it.

Somehow, that makes the small pang of guilt hurt all the worse.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s…” You make a face at your tongue’s clumsiness, fumbling for a way to explain everything, how it feels like the memories will continue to fester inside of you until there’s nothing left of who you are. There’s just too many of them. You’ve lived too many lives.

She smiles, and it’s soft and devoid of judgment. You blink harshly against the burn of returning tears. “You don’t need to apologize or explain. I already know.”

“But—”

“You’ve done more than enough for me, Specs,” she cuts you off, gentle yet firm, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You deserve a peaceful life with the one you love. The life the multiverse intended for you.”

“You deserve that too,” you blurt out, impulsive yet sincere.

Dearheart blinks with surprise, visibly taken aback for a second, before letting out a quiet laugh. “It’s hard to imagine it. A pair of thieves settling down together, living a quiet life. Then again,” she gives you a pointed look, one eyebrow arching up, “strangers things have happened, yeah?”

It startles a laugh out of you. “Yeah,” you nod, smiling wide. “Yeah, they really have.”

“And I’ll hold onto them. Every single one,” she says, lifting her hand from your shoulder to tap her temple. “Maybe write a book or something.”

“Well, well, well, wouldja look at that,” Dio remarks, pitching his voice higher to reclaim the spotlight once more. He stands up, moving closer to stand in front of you both. “Everybody gets what they want and goes home happy. I thought endings like that only happened in fairy tales.”

“What are you going to do with the cube, exactly?” you ask, carefully watching his face.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind about it,” he answers flippantly, but the cracking of his knuckles does little to mollify you. “It won’t be a problem for you or your Brown Eyes anymore. That’s what you’re really asking, right?”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

“You do you, clever girl.” He shrugs, looking like he could honestly care less about your poor opinion of him. “Now, let’s get this all wrapped up already. I’m a busy guy. I’ve got other souls to play with. Punishments to inflict. Deals to arrange.”

The tempo of your heartbeat accelerates, the realization that this is it buzzing through your nerves. “What–” your voice cracks under the weight of emotions suddenly springing to life inside of you. “What do I do?”

Dio chuckles, a genuine-sounding one, like you’ve just said something funny. Then, without sparing a second to explain himself, he licks a long, wet strip up the center of his palm, a strange symbol lighting up in the center of it, before he begins chanting in a language you’ve never heard of before, words tumbling out of his mouth rapid-fire in a low, steady stream.

Your whole body goes stiff, limbs held in place by invisible strings. You open your mouth to yell or curse at him, only to find you’ve lost your voice, just a weak gasp of air escaping your lips.

“Don’t fight it,” Dearheart tells you, voice breaking through the thunderous sound of blood pounding in your eardrums. “Just breathe.”

It feels like you’re being torn apart from the inside out, all of your atoms burning one by one. A scream presses against the backs of your teeth, the taste of blood sharp on your tongue. You might be crying; you can’t really tell anymore.

Dio continues his chant without any sign of stopping.

“Breathe,” Dearheart says again, sounding so close it’s as though she’s inside your head, wrapped around you, holding your hand. “It will all be over soon.”

Her words are a balm against the worst of the pain, and something inside of you relaxes upon hearing them. You close your eyes, forcing yourself to follow her command and breathe. In and out, in and out, even as numbness starts to creep up your legs. Along your spine and abdomen. Inch by deadening inch.

Your senses are next to go. Dio’s voice fades away seconds before the floor disappears. And you’re left with the sensation that you’re floating in a sea of nothingness. A second passes, then another, and another, and then—

Then you’re falling.

The room is full of open doors.

That’s the first thing you realize upon opening your eyes and regaining your bearings. Every direction you turn your head there’s dozens of doorways leading to unknown locations. The air is still, neither hot nor cold, and the entire space is as silent as a tomb. It’s…unsettling, to say the least.

A tugging sensation prompts you to start walking, even though you have no idea what or where your final destination is. There’s no sky here, no light source, but somehow you’re able to see the path in front of you clearly, each step sure-footed.

Every doorway you look through when you pass them reveals glimpses of the same woman and man in different settings. There’s a sense of vague familiarity, a name sitting on your tongue you can’t quite recall. Sometimes they look happy, obviously in love, other times they’re fighting, spitting curses and crying tears. Their physical characteristics change, too, hairstyles and ages and the appearances of scars. For all the variations though, there is one single constant.

They’re always together.

In one doorway, they’re sitting on a beach, the woman leaning back against the man’s chest while she holds up seashells from a small collection pile for him to see. Whatever the man says about one of them makes her laugh, tossing her head back against his shoulder, and he hides his crooked smile by burying his face in her hair.

The next shows them with a little baby girl crawling across a carpet floor. She’s got a head full of curls and a pair of beautiful, sparkling eyes matching her parents’. The man is videotaping her, the widest of smiles on his face, while the woman watches from the sofa with an expression you can only think of describing as pure contentment.

Another reveals them in an office arguing over a gemstone clutched in the man’s hands. The woman makes several attempts at grabbing it only for him to keep evading her reach, holding the item close to his chest as though it were his most precious treasure. You don’t know what’s going on, why the gem is the source of their strife, but you have the sinking suspicion their situation is about to go from bad to worse.

There’s a split-second you actually think about pausing—to do what, you’re not exactly sure. Yell at them? Reach through the door and take the stone for yourself? But then that internal tugging starts up again, more insistent this time, urging you to keep walking.

So you do.

The doors keep emerging from the blackness on either side of you, far more than you can count, and vanish just as soon as you pass them. This is without question the most elaborate dream you’ve ever had, but curiosity overrules your desire to wake up. If there is an ending to this, you want to see it through.

Eventually, after what seems like miles even though your feet don’t ache at all, you reach a fork in the road, discovering two doors which look different from the rest. On the left, light pours out of the open doorway, so much you can’t even tell what the scene is inside. On the right, a door which has been shut, offering no clues as to what’s on the other side of it.

Wary of the closed door, you approach the left one first, squinting against the brightness until you can make out the shapes of furniture and people. A green leather sofa. A massive fireplace. The man and woman are wrapped in a passionate embrace, kissing each other as if they’re starving for it, hands roaming over each other’s bodies.

You must make a sound, a gasp or something, because the woman’s eyes lock onto yours as she exposes her neck for the man to continue lavishing with his lips.

And then, as if it isn’t awkward enough already, she wiggles her fingers at you. At first you think she’s waving, or perhaps shooing you away, but then the door abruptly slams shut like it’s got a mind of its own, causing you to leap backwards with a yelp.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” you murmur, blinking at the now-closed door.

The only option left, whether you like it or not, is the other door. Nervousness twists a knot in your stomach, growing a little bit bigger with every approaching step. There’s nothing outright scary about the door—it’s literally just a door. Rectangular piece of wood with a brass knob. But the unknowing of what awaits you on the other side has your hand hesitating. After all you saw on your walk here, the possibilities are endless.

Okay, okay, okay. Stop overthinking things. You can do this. It’s no big deal. Just turn the knob. Just. Turn. The—

You tilt your head, a faint sound tickling at your eardrums. Your brow furrows, recognizing it to be music playing, and then your eyebrows climb up your forehead in disbelief when the lyrics click within your brain. That’s a One Direction song. And it’s coming from behind the door.

As if reacting to the beats of the song, the tugging in your chest starts to synchronize with it. Come on inside, it seems to say. Don’t be afraid.

You take a deep breath, pushing down your fears.

And you open the door.

You may not look it—bobbing your head along to the One Direction song blaring from your computer, shamelessly mouthing the lyrics—but you take your job quite seriously. You’ve been an archivist for the FBI’s art crime division for a little over a year now, responsible for cataloging, organizing, and examining recovered museum artifacts with gloved hands and a pair of specially designed spectacles hanging from a chain around your neck.

It’s tedious work, no doubt about it, but if not for this job you never would have met your boyfriend, Marcus, aka the man of your dreams. And for that mere fact alone, you wouldn’t trade this life for any other.

“Hey, Specs, you ready to head home?”

You look up from your computer, locking eyes with Marcus standing in the doorway. He’s dressed in his usual dark blue suit, but after a long day’s work his dark hair has been ruffled by restless fingers, striped tie hanging undone around his neck, and overall looking eager to cuddle on the couch in your apartment and watch a Netflix documentary.

There’s something about him that looks especially beautiful today, you can’t quite put your finger on it. You’d seen him earlier at lunch, but the strange ache in your chest, heart overwhelmed by a sudden burst of adoration, makes it seem like it’s been years or something. God, he’s turning you into such a hopeless romantic it’s ridiculous.

Turning off your computer, you go to him, greeting him with a kiss on the lips, soft and tender, a little teasing nip at the end promising more to come later. You nuzzle your nose against his before pulling away to grab hold of his hand, loving the way his fingers immediately intertwine with yours. He really is perfect.

And he’s all yours.

“Yeah, Brown Eyes,” you say, smiling and pulling him along. “Let’s go home.”

#the infinity cube #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

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creedslove · 8 months

Note

https://x.com/wizardjarin/status/1712462306339323950?s=46&t=rTZevp4RRSn2NzzndfvEVQ

Bestie, bless you and the person who made this post! Marcus Pike is the love of my life and he deserves the world. He definitely writes love notes and I dare to say that if you ever write back some love notes for him, he will keep them all in a box in the bottom of his drawer ❤️🥺😍

#ask #answered #marcus

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popcornforone · 10 months

Text

Pike & Prejudice

A Marcus Pike Fan Fic

My summer vibes are going well, it’s now time for Marcus Pike to have a bit of a vibe with you. Marcus is just such a romantic isn’t he, he deserves so much better. So when I randomly thought of the initial scenario in my head I knew I had to write it & find the right Pedro character for it. I just didn’t expect it to go for more than just a few paragraphs. Once again I’ve built relationships, that’s clearly my strong point, im starting to notice that now.

Synopsis: Marcus lovingly mocks all of your romance books when you decide to buy a place together, however it’s a few months later when his own romantic moment that he wants to create, leads to something’s that aren’t discussed in some of those classics.

Word count: 4100

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18! PIV sex, shower sex, established long term relationship, teasing, pleasuring, swearing. Most of this is fluffy & romantic until we get to that one part of the fic.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, it’s all ways appreciated, please drop me any feedback at all.

Today is finally the day, you’re moving in together. You brought this place a while ago but you have had to wait for your last assignment to end so you can move states before you moved to the new offices. He’s already been in a for a few weeks & you’ve been to see him to consummate your decision to finally take the plunge & live together. He’s been good while he’s lived there on his own, he’s decorated the main bedroom & lounge, you have helped when you could, any excuse to go & see him. Living away has had its struggles but today is the day it actually becomes a reality.

“You only lived in 1 room how the hell do you have so many boxes?” Marcus asks as he carrys in another box to dump in the spare room for sorting. “Just because I lived with room mates, doesn’t mean I don’t have lots of stuff” you reply as you carry in your house plants, & put them on the sideboard in the hall straight away. Marcus pulls a face “well they aren’t going to live there, not enough natural light” “are you saying I’m gonna kill my house plants?” You accusingly reply. Marcus shrugs with a giggle & you hug him & give him a tender kiss. “I’m so happy we’re finally doing this Marcus . It feels like it’s taken forever” your noses rub sweetly against each other. “You’ve got to take it slow, if it’s right for life” he replies, his lips finding yours again, the sweetest kisses in the world come from this man’s mouth.

You’d brought most of your clothes over during the week, but most of what is yours has been dumped in the guest bedroom for you to sort out when you got here. Marcus has been slowly sorting his things out, but he wanted to make sure your new place together is a mix of both of you, not just something you’ve added too. Most of his stuff is in the dinning room which he’s not yet eaten in. “So I was thinking,” you start as you finish eating your sandwich. “That we make the lounge look good first. You’ve already painted it & the floor is down & the sofa & tv are up, but why don’t we build that book case? We have lots of books just sat in boxes, duplicates we can store but we should combine our collections together. Show people we have passion for literature as well as each other” the smile on his face when you mention reading or books, means you know you’ve cracked him. It’s something he’s wanted to do for the last few weeks, but he didn’t want to do this without your input. “You’ve read my mind baby, I’ve waited so long to get my books out. Let’s build that bookcase after lunch. I mean how hard can it be?” He laughs as he gulps his juice.

Turns out very hard “where’s screw F?” He starts to flap as he builds while you read the instructions. “I handed it to you literally 20seconds ago” you reply rolling your eyes, mockingly tutting. “Maybe this is why it takes couples so long to move in together, as they argue about building furniture” he scoffs. You’ve just noticed where the screw is & aren’t saying a word as you read the next two stages of instructions. “Well you said you wanted to build it with my input so…” “are you being sarcy?” He rolls his eyes & glances at you “no…” you smirk, you know what’s coming. Marcus crawls across the floor to you, pinning you down & starts blowing raspberries on your ticklish neck. “Ahhh baby, I’m sorry, ahhh” you giggle & scream & he chuckles away too, before he stops & you both calm down as your eyes meet. The lock is intense, & the way his lips feel as he embraces yours is one you will never tire of. So deep & connected. It’s only as he comes up for air, ready to go for another kiss, that he catches out of the corner of his eye where screw F is & a smile falls across his face, as your hands stroke each others cheek before bookcase building resumes.

You both are impressed that you built that bookcase & didn’t attempt to kill each other, that’s a good start to life together, but now comes the interesting part. Your 7 boxes of books between you put by the entrance of the lounge. “So should we decide on an order for putting them in first, or go through the boxes & then see what we have & then decide” Marcus asks. “Well I think Biography’s should go separate to everything else, they aren’t fiction, but other than that, I don’t mind. Maybe we should unpack each others books?” You smile as you grab the first box of his. “Oooh absolutely I like that idea, we then each know what are going to be duplicates” & Marcus grabs your first box. You start looking through his box, making 4 piles. Paper backs, hardbacks, biography’s & duplicates. “Well I didn’t have you down for reading this?” You hold up his copy of Britney Spears biography. “Oooh baby baby” Marcus starts singing baby one more time, & you laugh when he does the high note of “still believe”. “I think you just upset the neighbours cat, that was so high” you laugh, continuing onto his second box.

“Well you know I can’t sing, after we met at that karaoke night 2 years ago, & yet you’ve still stuck around.” He smiles as he puts to the side your copies of 50shades rolling his eyes at them, he knew he’d find them eventually in those boxes. “I think the porn star martinis had a lot to do with how that night turned out” you smile”& look at us now, going through boxes & wondering why you have 2 copies of Ready Player One?” He asks doing a double table, making sure he hadn’t lost his mind. “I had a copy & then I won the other at a quiz night I went to, but the one I won is a 2nd edition so that’s for selling one day, when it’s worth a bit” “fair enough.” Marcus replies still looking through your books.

“How many romance novels do you have?” He asks on the final box he’s undoing. “Not that many” your interrupted by him”how many is many? Cos so far I’m up to 12?” “12?!” You’re shocked “seriously?!” He beacons you over & he shows you a pile in the floor. “I had no idea” you look at them “well some of these are classics though, which everyone’s reads. Never let me go, Emma, Little Women. I don’t think they count they are just…” “13!” He waves the next book in your face as he interrupts “Pride & Prejudice” “ahhh Mr Darcy” you giggle & he playfully hits you with the book. “I mean no book collections should be without this, bet you’ve got the film too?” He asks raising an eyebrow. “With Firth & Macfadden” you smile & kiss his cheek. “Can’t believe everyone got hot under the collar about Firth getting out of that lake all dripping” you say as a throw away comment. “Marcus smiles at you. “Okay I see your point with all the classics that true, but it’s still a lot” he smiles as he gets the last 3 books out of the box, the last one over all being Gone Girl. “Now this… this is a book…” he smiles. “Don’t worry” you say as you rub his shoulders, resting your head into his neck, “I won’t go all Amy on you” you cackle. “But I might use that line if we ever get to our 5th anniversary baby” he says winking. You’ve read the book countless times & it makes you both laugh & blush. “Well I look forward to that day Marcus” his head turns to face yours & your kiss is soft & tentative, safe in you both being exactly where you want to be in life.

Months pass & summer arrives. You’re both so happy living together. Work does get in the way, but you both knew this would be the case with him being an fbi agent. But you always try to make Sundays your couples day & this Sunday is a rather glorious Sunday, perfect for a walk by the lake after a bit of lunch before heading back home to a dinner you will cook together, & then settling down to watch more of the Peaky Blinders Marathon you are doing.

As you sit in the cafe by the lake eating your sandwiches , after a lovely walk taking photos, Marcus says something very spontaneous which isn’t like him at all. “We should rent one of those boats after lunch & row on the lake” he’s even shocked the words have come out of his mouth. You look at him perplexed. “Are you okay? Have you been swapped with another Marcus Pike?” You ask, prodding him to make sure he’s real. “Didn’t you ever as a kid want to go on one of those boats?” He asks as he sips his coffee “yea but I was 5 or 6 not 30” you chuckle as you steal one of his crisps “well now we’re adults, we live together, no parents to say it’s a waste of money & not worth the time” Marcus is making a very good point & you can see the excitement in his eyes to do this. “Fuck it, why not” you say “you right let’s do it after lunch” His smile is mischievous at your comments & he caresses your hand across the table.

“$25 for 45mins on the lake” the boatman asks & Marcus pays & he helps to get you comfortably in the boat. They have lockers & you have left most of your stuff in there. You’ve got your camera to take pictures of the boat ride & that’s about it. Marcus insists on rowing, so you can be treated like the queen you are. He slowly starts to row out into the lake & you start taking photos. “I’m getting some really good ones here Marcus, I can’t wait to show you some of these later.” “Whatever you take is always so beautiful my love, I always love your nature photos, so calming & peaceful.” He says slowly rowing further around the lake. He insisted on putting on canvas one of your sunset photos from a few years ago, so people see it when they enter your house. “How are your arms baby?” You ask after about 10minutes. “I’m happy to row too…” “no no no…” he chuckles “this is all for you, trust me” he smiles & you go past a beautiful willow tree before he stops the boat in the middle of the lake & starts to shimmy across towards you tentatively.

Your heart is racing, only a moment like this in the middle of the lake in the sunshine, as he wears his favourite white shirt & jeans as he slowly stands up, with his eyes full of desire, can only mean one thing. He’s going to ask you to marry him. You’re trying to just stay calm about this but your mind is racing, already thinking of venues, flower girls, first dances. You glance up at him as he steadies himself & starts to speak.

“My love, Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.” He pauses “or maybe I’m remembering it wrong…” he’s quoting all your romance books, declaring his love for all to see. Your eyes are filling with tears as he recites them all. You are a little too overwhelmed & he can see this, & so he bends a little to come & hold your hand, to finally you hope ask that questions, that you both know will be answered with i do.

Then the next minute is a blur, but not for the reason you expect. Another boat isn’t looking where it’s rowing & it crashes into yours, just at the point where Marcus lifts his leg to take a step. Neither of you can react, it just happens. He loses his balance as the boat rocks & as you go to grab him to steady him you make the boat move even more, & he tumbles into the lake. “Ahhhh Marcus” you screech. The people on the other boat realising what they have done. Up he come spluttering for air, drenched to the bone, while the other boat rows around to help him back into your boat & keep it steady.

You camera is still in your hand & you start taking photos of the incident, & then you stop. He pulls himself out of the water. The crisp white shirt is now see-through, & completely stuck to him. Every muscle well defined & on display & you just gawp. You know Marcus has a good body but it looks too good here, you’re jealous that others are seeing what delights you most evening before bed. He gets over the initial shock of going into the water & sits back down on the boat with the people on the other boat still apologising profusely. He tells them he’s okay & shouldn’t have been standing up in the first place. He then sees your eyes dilated in desire lusting over him unable to speak, jaw almost on the floor looking at your man. “Well you can call me Mr Darcey now if you want” he smirks which brings you back to reality. You laugh “are you okay baby?” You ask, there’s a blanket under the bench you are sitting on & you hand it to him to dry off. “Well when I’m home, warm & dry I will be” he smiles “it’s cold in there despite being so warm today” “it is a natural lake baby,” your little giggle always makes him melt a little. Those big brown eyes always fall more in love with you when you do that. “Let me row us back to the boat house” you grab both the ores & carefully navigate your way back to the boat house. He may not have asked you to marry him, but this will be a story you both tell for many years to come.

You’ve never seen Marcus move so quickly when you get home. He’s up those stairs & changing out of his clothes running the hot water for him. You’re busy getting some things out ready for dinner tonight when you receive a message asking you to join him. You’re never turning that offer down, so you go upstairs taking your clothes off as you go.

In his wet clothes he looked good coming out of the lake, but seeing him from behind washing his long naked body, as the steam starts to form, you bite your bottom lip. An arse so peachy, perfect for squeezing, always being admired by your wondering eyes. Watching the lather from the soap drip down his back as he rolls his head around. “I can tell you’re biting your bottom lip my love.” He mumbles, not even turning “maybe it’s time we shared those lips” it’s a much deeper & seductive tone, & you don’t deny him. You walk around in front of him & grab his wash puff & caress it over his chest. “My big strong leading man had a bit of an adventure today, didn’t he?” You say as he sighs as you get covered by the cascading water too & you rub circles around his chest. “I’m always on an adventure with you baby” he echos back. He takes the washer from you, putting in on the side shelf as he towers over you leaning in to claim your lips at last. Your naked body trembling with anticipation.

He slowly pulls you into him so he’s against the cold tiles of the shower, your lips hungrily chasing after each other. His hands on top of your arse tracing over those round cheeks, while you have one hand in his hair as your faces merge, & the other trailing down from his chest, slowly edging near his happy trail, to then eventually start stroking his length. When your hand makes contact his eyes shut & he gasps. “I’m not sure this happens in any of your romance books my love,” you go to protest before he continues “you can’t call Christian Grey romance” “yea your right” you reply before you start kissing his chest, chasing all those water droplets that are covering & flowing from his body. Watching him pant expectant for more that this seduction.

He slowly turns you so you are now against the tiles & spreads your legs a little. You’ve had shower sex with Marcus before, but not since you brought your own home together. He knows the best way to enjoy this & he is making sure you are ready. He leisurely strokes his length which you had been teasing with your own hand. “Real romance storys leave out the naughty bits” he says eyes twinkling at you through the steam. “Then I’m very glad we aren’t in one, because I would be livid if I wasn’t satisfied with a happy ending” you gaze upon him as his head comes down to take your lips again. Your hand joins his on his penis & once he has done with an initial tease, your moan is deep as he enters your core in a couple of slow motions. Making sure you’re okay to start, then checking he’s alright & then seeing how deep He can go, as drags along your walls.

“Fuck Marcus…” you pant out. He always feels so much bigger when he has you like this “fuck yesss” your hand grips into his shoulder as he starts to make regular movement. Marcus doesn’t say to much during sex ever, he likes to hear you whimper & moan. You don’t put it on but when you do you make sure it’s sound sexy. His eyes, lips & hand say what his words don’t. Feeling all the man that he is as he attends to every need your body gives aways. A hand stroke here, a quick dance around your nipples, grappling you thighs, he reads your body so well & it shows. “Ooh my love, you’re so tight tonight.” The words come out softly as he sucks on your neck, his moves getting faster, you feel him even deeper insider you.

“Please baby please” his hand is on your clit, making each gasp & pant longer. Your body’s rhythm now matching, as you feel like he’s pushing you into the tiles & through the wall into the guest bedroom. He’s delicate & also powerful when he needs to be, but it’s exactly what you need. He makes sure that your body responds to each touch, & he can see it react each time. He can also feel the way he drags in & out of you, filling your cunt with his penis. Making sure that you will remember this sensation & moment for a little while. The heat is steaming off you both, making the actual hot shower feel cold. The passion you have to make sure each other feel good, is unrivalled, & it’s growing every single time the two of you make love. “Marcus, make me yours” you’re going high pitched as you look up at the ceiling. The mist isn’t the only thing blurring your vision as you start to lose control & can feel your orgasm approaching.

Each thrust pushing the air out of your body, makes your moans louder. His pace is getting fast but it’s not blistering. It’s methodical & he is enjoying every second, feeling your body go numb & he hears you beg for more. He burys his head in the crook of your neck, rocking into you nibbling at it. He then slowly rests his mouth next to your ear & whispers “you’re ready baby, let go” it’s deep & seductive much like the eyes that you know are looking deeply into your soul. As your core gives in & you gush & soak his cock deep inside you, the moan you make can probably be heard by the entire street. “Just like that, good girl” he returns his head to your neck for more indulgance & pushes fully into you, thrusting his hardest. Making sure he coats you with his essence. He is silent as he cums, but you can feel he has as warmth embraces your cunt. “Fuccckkkk” you moan. Your can also see his shoulders relax & his movements slow, now he has experienced his favourite pleasure. “Marcus, my Marcus” you pant desperate for air, as you return from your high back to the reality of the shower, water & mist & the man you adore. You don’t need a proposal to know this man loves you. It’s the look in his eyes as you finally lock them with yours again that tells you all you need to know. He is yours, you are his, you don’t need any other validations other than the come down kisses you are about to have.

Cleaned & dried off after your exploits in the shower together, Marcus & you put on your jammies & start cooking dinner together. A slight kiss her, a bum grab there. Harmless usual Sunday late afternoon flirting. Something that’s so you two. It’s cheesy but it always makes you blush & feel all unnecessary & always keeps the spark alive in your relationship. Once you’ve eaten, you sit on the sofa ready to watch the next part of Peaky Blinders, however you’re shocked when the menu screen for Gone Girl appears, but you don’t complain, it’s one of your favourite movies & books of all time. You smile as Marcus wraps the blanket around the two of you & you start watching the thriller movie.

About 5mins in he pauses it after the line about the 5th anniversary, remembering what you’d both talked about months ago, when putting the books on the shelf. “I can’t remember if that line is just made up for the film or if it is in the book?” He whispers. “Go check my love.” & he gestures at the copy that’s on the side table which is used with a few other duplicates you have to show off to people. You scoot across the sofa & remove the fake sunflowers propped on top of it & life of Pi & flick towards that page, when something shiny lands in your lap. There it is, the engagement ring you thought might not come.

Tears well in your eyes as you turn around to see Marcus on his knee off the sofa. “This may not have been the way I planned to do this today, but I think this makes it more us” he says his hands now in your palms intertwined. “& I also don’t think that quote about fucking her & then slapping his cock on her saying that some wood for you would have been the most romantic way to declare my intentions while standing on that boat” this makes you smile & laugh even more, brushing your eyes of water. “But what do you say to getting that far my love? Will you be my wife? Will you let me be your leading romantic man, faults & all?” He pleads. You nod silently as his own tears fall & he places the simple small diamond on your ring finger. “Forever baby, I’ll say yes forever” you hold his face before you make out. Lips entranced, devouring each other desperate to never break this moment. “I don’t need any romance novels ever again. I have you, the most romantic hero any woman could ever ask for” he tucks your hair behind your ear before he delivers another cherished kiss to your lips & then knuckles. “My perfect fiancé” he says as he wraps you in his arms & he puts the film back on. You both now know that love doesn’t need to be picture perfect like the books or films, it’s just got to be right for the both of you.

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