Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 15
Marcus Pike x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+
Word Count: 10k
Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Tooth-decaying sweetness, talk of pregnancy/impregnation, unexpected visitor, references to rough sex, possessiveness. Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex.
Summary: After almost a year together, you and Marcus celebrate your first Valentine's Day together with a weekend trip away.
Notes: We are inching closer to the wedding with every chapter! This week enjoy some sex and romance, Pike style.
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14
The flight from Dulles to JFK would be shorter, but there’s a certain charm to taking the train. The rhythmic clacking of the wheels on the track is almost romantic and Marcus had secured an entire compartment for you, him and Agent Sellers. Agent Bailey will meet you in New York with a car and to trade off with your other security detail, but for now, it seems like it’s just the two of you in the car. “Hotel first?” Marcus asks, kissing your fingertips and you look out the window at the passing scenery.
“Because you want to drop off our bags or because you want to test out the mattress?” Either way the answer is yes, and you relax in your seat all over again. This idea to go away for a few days for Valentine’s Day had made you feel guilty at first, but you were easy to convince once you remembered that it was around Valentine’s last year that everything has started to happen between you. Now that chaos of finishing the house and moving in together is over with, a couple of days in New York sounded perfect.
"I do need to see if your legs look different on my shoulders in New York than in D.C." he teases, wagging his eyebrows playfully. "Three days of no house details, no work, and all we have to worry about is walking out of our hotel room dressed."
“And making our reservations on time.” With your fingers tangled through his, this time you pull his hand over to kiss his fingers instead. “I may have called in a favor for our dinner tonight.”
"Where are we having dinner?" He had left the dinner reservations up to you, knowing you would have a list of favorite places you would want to go.
"Tonight we're going to see a friend," you hum, leaning into him as much as you can in your seat as the train speeds toward New York. "One of Syd's friends from culinary school opened a restaurant right in the city a couple of years ago and I've just never gotten the chance to go up and try it out. So I called in a favor and got us a reservation for after the theater tonight. Neo is an Italian steakhouse, which sounded right up your alley."
"Nice." He's impressed by the idea of a nice steakhouse that is close to you and Sydney. His hand slides down to your thigh and he squeezes it gently.
"And then tomorrow night..." Your hand over his on your thigh is basically just grounding. Holding you to him and making sure you don't float away on the bliss of having some time off with your fiancé. "Every time we watch FoodTV you get obsessed with watching Alex Guarnaschelli, so I got us a reservation at Butter."
"Really?" His eyes widen in delight and he can't believe that you would go through the trouble for something like that. It's the small things that you notice that makes him feel special. You do so many little things that show him you pay attention to his interests, passing or intense. "That's— wow." He shakes his head. "Thank you."
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. The train ride was a special treat but now that you’re almost in the city you’re eager for your trip to really begin. “I love you more than anything.”
"I love you too." He leans his own head against yours. "I booked our tickets to the Met." He tells you quickly, knowing you will like that.
“I’m sooooo excited for museum time with my own personal art expert.” He claims he isn’t, but you’ve learned in the last year not to listen to his protests. He practically gives guided tours whenever you go to the Smithsonian together.
He rolls his eyes playfully but he doesn’t naysay. He knows that you look at it as a point of pride almost. “Anything else you want to do? I think it’s a little too cold to take a boat out in Central Park.”
"There are a million museums and historical sites." And you can't wait to explore each and every one of them with him. "It's just too bad it's too early in the year for a ball game."
“We can always make a summer day trip.” Marcus immediately offers. “Maybe the subway series?”
"That would be fun." You perk up instantly at the idea of it. "The MET is tomorrow, so how about we ask the concierge at the hotel what their favorite underrated attraction is for today before the theater?"
“That sounds good.” He agrees. “Something that is kind of off the beaten path sounds fun.”
The last hour of the trip is smooth sailing, and early check-in at your hotel means that you and Marcus are unpacking your suitcases in almost no time. It’s snowy in New York but not in a way that will add up, and it makes the whole thing look quite picturesque from your seventh-floor window.
“Too bad the fireplaces have been closed for years.” Marcus comments. “Couldn’t you imagine curling up next to a fire and watching the snow fall?”
“Next year let’s rent a cabin,” you hum, leaning back in his arms as you look out the window together. “Get snowed in.”
“That sounds like something we can definitely do.” For the suggestion, you deserve a kiss. “Unless you are pregnant. Then I don’t know if I would want to risk it.”
“If I’m pregnant we’ll choose a very easily accessible hotel where we can watch the snow fall instead.” His concern is sweet enough to earn him a kiss in return, and they’re getting longer every time. “Someplace where we can get snacks delivered.”
“Pregnancy cravings.” Marcus practically moons at the idea and he cups your cheeks to kiss you again.
“So…I’ve been thinking about something.” This calls for a face to face conversation, and you turn around in his arms.
“Oh yeah?” He doesn’t think that it’s anything bad, you come to him when something heavy is on your mind. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking, sweetheart.”
The two of you have always agreed that the timing of your lives needed to be a joint conversation, but somehow you don’t think this particular idea is going to need much debating. Not much if any, knowing Marcus. “I think I’d like to stop taking my birth control the day before the wedding,” you tell him, slipping both arms around his waist. “I know it might not happen for us immediately, but I think everything else has fallen into place for us so maybe this might, too.”
Marcus tilts his head, a slow smile spreading over his face and lighting it up. “Yeah? You want to do that?” He asks quietly. “I— I think that’s perfect.” He admits. “As long as you are ready.”
You're glowing as you lean into him, already feeling like you could burst with happiness and pride. "I'd say we should start now but there's no way my wedding dress will fit me if I'm pregnant."
“I want you to be able to drink a toast at our wedding if we can help it.” Marcus admits.
"Especially since you went through all the trouble to pick out good toasting champagne with the wedding planner." It had been an entire conversation of wine pairings and champagne choices that you hadn't understood a word of but watching Marcus get excited about tasting notes had been well worth it.
“I think you will enjoy it. It will go well with our wedding cake.” He reminds you, knowing you are excited for the replica cake the bakery in Boston had fallen over over themselves to agree to bake.
"I'm excited for everything to come together." After so easily picking out bridesmaids' dresses last weekend and even finding a mother of the bride dress at the same shop, the wedding is feeling like everything is really falling into place. "Last things are to pick a place for the rehearsal dinner and to book our honeymoon."
“We’ve had so many ideas for our honeymoon…” he laughs quietly, remembering all the various places you’ve both come up with. “Have we actually decided on where we are going to go?”
"I think we've talked about almost every place on earth," you laugh right along with him. "But no. We haven't decided. I think the last time we talked we said it should be someplace that neither of us have been."
“Maybe we need to make a honeymoon wheel.” Marcus snorts. “Have you seen the trend where a guy will make a restaurant wheel to spin when their girlfriend or wife can’t decide?” He shrugs. “We could do the same thing with our honeymoon ideas.”
“Hotel room crafts.” It’s silly and sweet enough of an idea to make you giggle, and you press more kisses to Marcus’s lips and cheeks. “I don’t know about making a wheel, but we could do slips of paper with destinations on them in the ice bucket instead of a hat.”
“Like a lottery drawing.” He snorts. “That could be fun.”
“I have a notebook in my purse.” Which doesn’t surprise him one bit, but you tug Marcus back into the room from the window. “Grab the ice bucket?”
“In a minute.” He smirks and his hands slide from your waist to your ass. “You remember what I told you I wanted to do on the train?” He coos, leaning in and kissing your neck.
“Mmmmhmm.” A soft moan of approval and agreement sounds from deep in your throat, but you feel like teasing him just a tiny bit. “Something about…shoulders?”
“Your legs, my shoulders.” He grinds his hips against yours, his hardening cock proof of his desire and he smirks. “I need to see if you taste different in New York.”
It is pretty much never difficult to convince either of you when a good time to be intimate has appeared, and you nudge him backward again toward the bed. “Then why are we still wearing clothes?”
“That’s a good question.” He goes willingly and he reaches for the edge of your sweater to pull it up. “You’re wearing far too many of them right now.”
Sweaters, t-shirts, pants, and everything else end up scattered around the room, littering the carpet with evidence of the romance in the air. Marcus has you laid out on your back on the bed in no time and you happily tug him down to you for a kiss when he climbs in with you.
“My gorgeous hummingbird.” His hands slide over your clavicle and he kisses your collar bone gently. Worshipfully. “My love, my soulmate.”
“I love you.” Simple words, but meant with all the feeling in the world as your limbs curl around him and you melt under his kisses.
“I. Love. You. Too.” Every word is punctuated by a kiss. Making sure that he teases and caresses your skin with his lips.
“Baby.” After almost a year together, you and Marcus have no trouble finding the right buttons to push. You know each other’s favorite things, each other’s ticks and hidden kinks. You know Marcus adores being showered in praise just you like him to have a firm hand. The flow of your relationship has been built on respect and trust and mutual admiration. Which has made experimenting and finding the things you enjoy together all the more rewarding.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” Marcus pops his head up, eyes dark and fixed on you. “What do you want me to give you, sweet thing? I’ll give you anything you want, you just have to tell me.”
"Just you, baby." Anything and everything he is will to give you is always what you want. Just him. As much of Marcus as he is willing and able to pour into you any time you have moments to yourself.
“You have me, baby. You’ve got all of me.” He groans, adding to teeth to his kisses as he starts to move down your body.
"All of me." It's so true. And true for both of you. The complete devotion you have to each other is obvious. Lying naked wrapped in each other's arms might be the most honest and most vulnerable you ever are, and there is no one in the world you are more grateful to share that feeling with.
Marcus groans, your words of affirmation and affection always affect him, but none like they do when you are both stripped bare. When there is nothing between you but the air and your beating hearts. He drops a featherlight kiss on your stomach, which will one day hopefully protect his children, and then down to your hip.
"We really need to start asking hotels if they have sound proof rooms," you giggle, already sighing as Marcus moves lower and lower on your body.
"Let them hear." He chuckles, never having a problem with others knowing how satisfied you are. He brings your leg up onto his shoulder as he settles between your thighs and he licks his lips as he parts your folds to expose the sensitive little clit that he will lavish with attention.
The touch of his fingers makes you gasp, but you still chuckle despite yourself and know that you'll hold back more here than you do at home. Having the house finally be finished has been a blessing. "Last thing we need is a sound bite of the First Daughter getting eaten out."
"Then it's a good thing they don't have access to those little videos we've made, isn't it?" He smirks, having enjoyed the clips of sexy scenes both of you had made together and while you were apart to send to each other. They were in a locked file and heavily guarded so no one could get to them.
"Well I don't want you to miss me while you're on a long case," you rationalize, letting out another deep sigh as his finger paints a long stripe along your slit.
"Oh I always miss you." He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose against your clit before he samples a small taste of your essence.
He knows how to make you moan. He knows as well as he knows his own name. And yet the first moment your back lifts off the mattress always takes you by surprise and you have to remind yourself not to squeeze his head too tight between your thighs when they clench with that first feeling of pleasure. "Fuck, baby."
The noises you make are always so fucking sweet. He’s addicted to them, to you. His own groan is sounded into your pussy as his tongue flutters around, sweeping the edges of your folds in a pattern that always makes you whine.
The fingers of one hand twist into his curls and you’re prepared to thank every possible god all over again that Marcus has been growing out his hair. It’s all his own style of course, but you don’t mind having a handle to keep him close as he devours your pussy every chance he gets.
The small whine of pleasure that he gives at the pressure of your hand in his hair is one you thoroughly enjoy and he gives you that sound every time his cock twitches against the bed. Making him even more eager in his task as he flicks his tongue over your soaked hole.
Curses and praise and moans of pleasure fill the room, babble verging on incoherent as Marcus plays you with as much skill as his bass or guitar. It’s the w of pleasure that makes you feel like you’re floating all the way above the mattress. It’s ecstasy, all on the curls and flicks of your soulmate’s tongue.
Marcus has always enjoyed sex, enjoyed giving and receiving pleasure, but there is something incredibly unique about his intimacy with you. There is a fusion of your bodies that match your souls, where your pleasure magnifies his own and he gets lost in it.
You shatter for him as easily as breathing, although in the moment you come apart you’ve replaced panted breaths with an orgasm so intense that your mind goes blank as you sob his name into the bright white afternoon. It’s almost like being at peace, the way he breaks you apart and puts you back together with tender caresses and loving kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Your come down is his favorite part of foreplay. The pliant limbs and pleasure warmed skin. He loves the dazed look in your eyes, as if you are surprised by how good you feel. “Maybe I need another taste.” He murmurs against your lips.
“Babyyy.” You whine and grab his shoulder when he ducks his head like he’s going to travel down your body again. “Don’t you need to see if I ride you just as well in New York?”
He stops, tilts his head as if he is considering that point before he sighs. Making it seem like it’s a big concession on his part. “I think that needs to be explored too.” You love to ride him and he always lets you be in control when you want it, since so often you want him in control.
“It seems very important.” You nod in agreement, grinning lazily to see his eyes light up at the prospect of having your tits in his face while you bounce on him.
He comes back up to kiss you thoroughly before rolling onto his back. His hard cock laying against his stomach as he reaches out and caresses your side. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
It’s just teasing, but you straddle his waist and lean over to press a kiss over his heart before shifting back into position. “That’s a very dangerous thing to promise your fiancée.”
“Not at all.” His hands find your waist and he squeezes gently. “I mean every word.”
“Dangerous.” You admonish him again with a tsk, but sink down on his length all the same — making both of you gasp and moan in unison.
Marcus’s eyes flutter closed with a silent prayer of thanks. His fingers digging into your flesh and for a second, he wishes you were already off your birth control. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” He groans when you roll your hips in a little circle and clench down around him.
“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good.” Letting your head fall back makes it feel like he’s gotten all the way up into your throat and your whole body tightens like a bowstring in response.
“That’s because you’re so perfect.” He groans in appreciation, rocking his hips up. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He flashes a grin and twitches inside you. “Last little cunt I’ll ever fuck too.”
"All yours." As many times as you promise him that, it never diminishes how much you mean it. He has your whole heart for your whole life. "All yours and you're all mine and fuck you have the best cock in the world."
He chuckles, proud of your happiness with his abilities. His hand slides up your neck to cup the back of your head as he drags you down for a kiss.
The rhythm you set is quick but thorough, making sure to rise and fall on every inch of him to swallow his moans in equally thorough kisses.
He loves when you ride him. Your tits bounce and your kisses are greedy, leaving him to touch you how he wants to while you use his cock for your pleasure. “Fuck, baby.” He grunts, twitching when you swivel your hips.
The figure eights you draw in his lap are his favorite. They always have been. They're brilliantly drawn out and exaggerated to leave him groaning and greedy, pawing at you as you bounce on him. It's greedy for both of you in different ways, which is probably why this is one of your favorite positions.
“You’re teasing me.” Marcus huffs, lunging up to capture one tit in his mouth and scrape his teeth over your sensitive nipple.
"You — ah! — love when I tease you." And since he's so good at teasing you back, you don't ever hesitate.
Marcus just groans against your breast and slaps your ass playfully. Rocking you harder on his cock as his mouth works your breast.
It’s the hungry kind of sex where you know you’ll be sticky and sweaty and need a shower after. Where you know Marcus is going to leave teeth marks pebbling your skin. Where you know without a shadow of a doubt that you’ll be achy and feeling him in your theater seat tonight. And it’s exactly the right kind of fierceness for both of you, so you amp up your pace and throw your head back, letting the bliss of it all wash over you. Lovemaking is what you’ll do tonight, with moonlight streaming through the windows and soft touches and whispered promises. This is a deeply cathartic and energizing fuck — the perfect way to start your weekend.
“Fuck.” Marcus hisses and his fingers slide down to find your clit. Sensing the urgency to your pace and knowing how badly he wants to see you fall apart for him before he finds his own release.
Your whine of agreement is high from the added touch. His fingertips are calloused, giving you added friction as well as added tension, and every time you roll your hips you get more pressure and friction. It's stunning, the way he drives you toward the edge of that cliff of pleasure, and your head spins from how close you are.
“That’s it baby, you’re so good to me.” Marcus groans, loving how you just give him everything you’ve got. “So pretty on my cock. You gonna cum for me? You know I want to see it. Cum for me, sweetheart.”
"I'm so close baby." So close that you feel like you're about to fall over onto his chest from the way you're tensing up. Every part of you is tense, right down to the way your greedy cunt is clamping down on his cock.
“That’s it, fuck- you’re so tight.” Marcus hisses, watching you as your hips stutter and your shoulders start to shake. “So good baby, want to feel you.”
"Fuck, fuck, oh my god, Marcus!" The freedom to cry out, even though you joked about volume earlier, isn't lost on you. The way you tense and shatter and cry his name is his favourite music in the world.
He can’t help himself. Lunging up, he presses his lips to yours desperately and rolls you over to keep pistoning his hips and drilling into your spasming walls. Working you higher through your orgasm and chasing his own.
It would be a whole different ballgame if you were already off your birth control, but you still want Marcus to cum inside you. There's no better or more indulgent feeling in the world, so you wrap your legs around his waist and shake with the last waves of your own orgasm knowing that it will bring him toward his own.
“I love you, I love you. I love you.” Marcus begins to chant as his hips rock forward desperately, barely pulling back as he feels his body pull tight.
"I love you." Those words never diminish, especially not when he's driving his hips forward to bury his cock deep inside you, coating your walls with his searing hot release.
He whines your name as he rides out the release of every tense bone in his body. Pouring himself into you as he collapses against you. “Fuck.” He huffs, face buried against your neck and panting softly. “Always.” He murmurs, kissing a damp patch of skin over your pulse.
“Always.” A fact which leaves you breathless and tangled up in each other more often than not. Right now you hold him tight, hanging on to a confessional sigh. “I almost wish I was off my birth control already,” you admit quietly.
“Me too.” He chuckles because the two of you seem to always be so in sync about your goals and desires. “But we know that it would be better to keep to our original timeline.”
"It's a nice dream, though." Your fingers run up his shoulder and through his hair, and the softness in your eyes is pure adoration when your eyes meet again. "And I can't wait for it to come true."
“I know.” He smiles softly as he presses his lips to yours. “You know I’m going to be feral over you.” He warns. “Not going to be able to stop touching you.”
"Oh nooo." The laugh in your voice is as joyous as your smile but you toss a tone of sarcasm into your teasing. "That will be terrible. I just hate when my fiancé, the sexiest man in the whole world, wants to fuck me."
“You might hate sex while you are pregnant.” He huffs, knowing he would hate it, but he would never pressure you to sleep with him if you don’t feel like it. From what he can tell, it’s hard work to grow a human.
"I don't think I will." Of course, you can't be sure. But as you stretch your neck to kiss him again you enjoy the image tucked away in your mind. "I think I'm going to melt in your arms every single time like I already do."
“I love you.” The simple words are more vow than statement, completely true and undeniable. Luckily, the nasty rumors have tapered off and you have been able to enjoy the wedding planning so far.
"I love you, too." It doesn't take much surging to kiss him one more time, and then you're grinning all over again. "Now...how do you feel about naked honeymoon planning?"
“Naked anything with you is good for me.” He jokes. “Unless it’s frying bacon.”
"Aprons when we cook." You quote Sydney with a grin. "I think I can walk. I'll grab the notebook from my purse and we can write down the ideas we're serious about?"
“If you can’t, I’ll grab it for you.” He smirks, a little pleased when you are unsteady on your feet climbing out of the bed after he rolls off of you.
"Why don't you grab the ice bucket, baby?" Your purse is much closer to the bed than anything else, so it barely takes you two shaky steps before you're slumping back onto the mattress with a grin.
“Can’t make it, can you?” He chuckles as he stands up and crosses over to the desk where the ice bucket is located.
"Shut up." A playful little huff and a pout comes from the bed as you stick your tongue out at him. So what if you barely made it? You managed to grab your notebook and a pen and that's what matters. "You fucked me so good I can't walk, be nice."
He winks at you. “I fucked you so good you can’t walk because I’m nice.”
"I love you very much, now come and get back in bed," you stick your tongue out again and pick up your pen. "So what are your top choices. Are we doing top three each or top five?"
“I say we do five.” Marcus suggests, grinning as he saunters back over and plops down beside you with the bucket. “And then we use the bucket idea for the next nine anniversaries.”
"That's actually super cute." So much that it earns him a kiss when he comes and sits back down with you. A sheet of paper from your notebook is torn up into ten strips, and you hand him five. "I'm thinking my top five are Paris, Scotland, Napa Valley, New Zealand..." You grin unapologetically. "And Disney."
He shakes his head, faking a disappointed pout. “No naked honeymoon in Disney.” He grumbles. “We would be banned and then our kids would never forgive us.”
“We can still be naked in the hotel,” you remind him, grinning unapologetically as you drop the last destination into the ice bucket.
“Yeah, yeah.” He swats your thigh gently and sighs. “So I need to pick other destinations, right?”
“That’s the idea.” Being done before him lets you lay back in the pillows and idly stir the slips in the ice bucket while he thinks.
“Okay, okay…” he takes the notepad you’ve left on the bed and writes on the first one. “Ireland.” He shoots you a grin. “It’s different from Scotland.”
“Yes, it is.” You smirk at him, wondering if he’s going to pick places near all of yours.
“Let’s see…” He taps his chin. “Ohhhh Bora Bora would be good.” He scribbles it down. “Fruity alcoholic drinks, and tiny bikinis for you the entire time.”
That earns a grin from you, and you lean over to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Tiny bikinis are a favorite vacation theme for you.”
“It’s as close to naked as I can get you.” He huffs. “Unlessssss…” Marcus flashes you a teasing grin. “We go to one of those nudist resorts. Should I write Hedonism II down?”
“You try explaining that to my mother when she asks for vacation photos,” you snort, knowing that that choice would go over like screen doors on a submarine.
“Yeah…no to Hedonism.” He doesn’t write that, but he pretends to and mimes ripping the sheet out and balling it up. “How about Chile?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Atacama Desert or Easter Island.”
“Chile would be gorgeous. It’s too bad we couldn’t bring your bike down with us.” The image makes you hum, and your shoot him a grin. Marcus sitting astride his motorcycle in any setting just does things to you. “We’ll have to rent one when we go.”
“Absolutely.” He has rediscovered his love of having a woman on the back of his bike and often will bring you along if you can get away for a quick drive in the evenings.
“So…Ireland, Bora Bora, Chile,” you prompt him, tucking off your fingers. “Two more.”
“Greece.” Marcus decides and sends you a small smirk. “Rome.” He writes them down as well so they can be added to the trip bucket.
“Alright.” Dropping each slip into the ice bucket and stirring it around, you give it a few shakes for good measure before holding it high above either of your sight lines and angling it toward Marcus. “Go ahead. What’s our honeymoons going to be?”
Marcus grins and takes the bucket from your hands. “Let’s not pick now.” He teases. “Why don’t we pick at the end of our vacation?”
“You live to torture me!” You groan dramatically, dropping the ice bucket between you. “Do you really want to wait?”
“You don’t want to?” He teases, leaning in and kissing you playfully. “I guess we can decide now.” He rolls his eyes and picks the bucket up. “You choose. That way you can’t blame me.”
"Blame he says, as though they aren't all great choices." It calls for blowing a raspberry in his general direction, but you dip your hand into the ice bucket high above your head and swirl your fingers around to snag a single slip of paper. "Here we go," you intone dramatically, pulling the slip open and wiggling it around. "Looks like it's going to beeee..." Flipping the paper up, you grin at him. "Scotland!"
Marcus laughs at the glee on your face, knowing he would be happy going anywhere with you. “A stone cottage in the Scottish highlands where we walk the moors and burrow into each other in front of a roaring fire sounds perfect.” He puts on a thick Scottish accent for the dramatic flair.
"We can see the Highlands and the cities and go all over." Actually having a location picked out makes you giggle with excitement, and you lean over to kiss him before practically jumping out of bed. "Just like we can go explore this city right now. With clothes, of course."
“Now she can walk.” Marcus groans, climbing out of the bed after you. “What do you want to do before Ellis Island?”
"We should check what time the ferry runs." The concierge downstairs had given you a few ideas but ultimately you had decided to take the trip out to Ellis and Liberty Islands. It’s an important piece of American history and Agent Bailey won’t admit to it but she’s excited to look up her family from their crossing. "Why don't we grab a quick lunch? Give ourselves back some of the energy that we just burned off?"
“That sounds perfect.” He agrees, unable to resist grabbing a handful of your ass when you bend down to pick up your clothes. “Build up reserves for tonight.”
It's hardly a surprise when you and Marcus end up in a little café halfway between your hotel and the ferry to Ellis Island, ready to feast on French bistro classics for lunch. It's warm in the picturesque little restaurant and the snow is still falling without collecting on the sidewalk, so it's a picture-perfect winter day in the city.
“I think it’s safe to say that I will have to have the French onion soup.” Marcus tells you as he looks over the menu. “At least to start. What about you?”
"I think it's going to be a boeuf bourguignon day," you hum, spotting the item on the lunch menu and salivating over it immediately.
“Would you hate me for hurting Thumper if I had the rabbit cassoulet for the main?” He’s grinning and shrugging slightly.
"Not if you won't hate me for having cute little escargot for my first course." The one time he had expressed finding snails cute had obviously stuck with you, and since they're one of your favorite gourmet treats, it's a fair trade.
He huffs in feigned offense and sighs dramatically. “I suppose.” He jokes. “It’s only fair and I know it makes you happy.”
"What do you want to see first at the MET tomorrow?" The café is buzzing around you but you're happy in your little bubble. Just you and Marcus, cuddled together and happily plotting out the rest of your day.
“I’m not picky?” Marcus asks, playing with your fingers. “But Lady with a Parot and Perseus.” He rattles off with a guilty grin.
"Not picky, but two very specific choices." You grin at him, charmed all over again by the beauty and relaxation of the day. Agent Bailey is enjoying herself at a table across the café, also doing her best to relax despite being in the busy city. "Okay, you're on. And I want to track down Madame X."
“The American Wing.” Marcus instantly replies.
"That's my man." Of course he knows, that doesn't surprise you at all.
What does surprise you is the woman walking behind the hostess, currently approaching your table to be seated right next to you. "Vanessa?" Of all the gin joints in all the world, you think ruefully, but it's been so long since you heard from either her or Sam that you're just sort of shell shocked to see her instead of upset or angry about it.
Marcus turns to see the ex that he had hoped to never run into again - even more than Teresa - and wonders what the hell is about to happen. He warily glances behind her and around the smaller café. “This is a surprise.” He intones dryly.
“Just a coincidence.” Vanessa promises. She thanks the hostess and takes a seat, though she wishes there was literally any other table left. “I’m just having a bite after class. Forget I’m here.”
“Class?” That catches Marcus’s attention and he glances over at you to make sure that you are comfortable continuing the conversation. He feels like if there’s a change in the dynamic of your foes, you should learn all you can.
You nod subtly, but Vanessa doesn’t catch it. She’s thanking the waitress for her water. “Class,” she confirms when the waitress is gone. “I’m getting my master’s. I—” she looks between you, her former foes, and shrugs slightly. “A lot has changed.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” There’s no pressure to be applied, but it’s an offer. An olive branch, just like the one extended at the engagement party.
That’s a bit of a sticky question, but Vanessa nods. Her own is far less subtle than yours, as it’s meant to be seen. “I left Sam,” she begins, feeling that that is the most important news. “He was…he was getting out of control. There was never going to be an end to it as long as he had people on his side.”
Marcus squeezes your hand gently, the confirmation of it being on purpose was right there between the lines. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly. “When you said you had discovered your soulmate, it was Sam, wasn’t it?”
“It was.” Vanessa confirms. There’s no reason to beat around the bush after everything that’s happened. “He’s just…he’s not the man he was when I first fell in love with him. Not anymore.”
“Vanessa….” Marcus sighs softly. “What was the root of the issue? We didn’t cheat. Why was Sam so obsessed with hurting us?” He phrases it that way so she doesn’t feel like he’s attacking her, and because he honestly never really imagined Vanessa being the ringleader. Now it seems as if she was a hopeless idealist, blindly following her soulmate down the wrong path.
She sighs, biting her lip slightly, and looking between you both with regret shining in her eyes. "Birdie was supposed to be his ticket to the White House," she admits, although the confession isn't hers to make. "When Marcus appeared on the scene he started getting paranoid, and then...then when you broke up with him? He seemed like he was just taking it a little too hard in the beginning but he started to go down a dark path pretty quickly."
“Did he hurt you?” Marcus’s voice gets soft, his jaw tense at the idea of violence perpetrated against any woman, even one who has wronged him. “Or made threats against Birdie we should know about?”
"No. No, he never would have had the resolve to hurt me physically. And the only threats he made never worked out." Vanessa assures him. "The worst founded one was the engagement party. Whatever you two and your social media team did to get ahead of that, well done."
“You went along with it because he’s your soulmate?” Marcus guesses. “The rumors and the whispers that were being fed from somewhere?”
"I can't exactly defend myself." Vanessa twists in her chair to face you fully, so this conversation can be quiet. "I was jealous."
"Of me...for being with the man you were in love with." You finish her thought without effort, understanding the instinct fully but from the opposite direction. "I was jealous of you. When you were with Marcus. We just...we had things switched around, I guess."
Marcus frowns, never realizing that she had been so involved with her feelings in the brief relationship. “I thought…you were waiting for your soulmate and just having fun with me?”
"I was trying to get over Sam." This is bound to be an uncomfortable conversation of confessions for Vanessa, but she is going to tell the truth. "In a sense you were a rebound for a relationship I never had. And when I realized who my soulmate was I thought everything was finally going to work out the way I wanted. But...that was even more wrong than I ever could have guessed."
“I’m sorry.” Marcus murmurs softly. “I hope that one day, you find the love and happiness you have been searching for.”
"I think I have to love myself first." Vanessa shrugs her shoulders and laughs. "I know that sounds cheesy, but...I started seeing a therapist and I got myself into grad school, and taking control of my own life has been really good for me."
“That’s great.” Marcus assures her, squeezing your hand again and glancing at you. “I can tell you that therapy will be good for you. Doesn’t matter what you’re going through. Sometimes it’s good to just learn how to cope with life.”
"I'm doing my best." Marcus has always been a kind man. It's good to know that that is just who he is, and that Vanessa hadn't been so blinded to people's good natures as to have misjudged him at any point. "I really want to apologize to both of you. Some of the things we did...that I did for him...were truly despicable. If I could take it all back, I would."
It’s not his place to accept an apology, especially when most of the attacks were focused on you. He squeezes your hand again, and defers to you.
"I wish we could have made amends sooner." You tell her, gently squeezing Marcus's hand in return. "But I'm glad that things are looking up for you, Vanessa. And I hope they continue to go in a positive direction. Nobody deserves to be defined by their mistakes when they're trying to better themselves."
It’s a gracious acceptance of the offered apology and so on point for who you are that Marcus wants to kiss you. “I completely agree.” He adds. “You focus on yourself and things will work out for the best.”
"That's very kind of both of you." And probably more than she deserves, but Vanessa isn't going to split hairs when she's stumbled into the chance to move forward. "And very diplomatic. It's...it's very easy to see, from the outside, why you're such a beloved couple." A fact which had made you both difficult to tear down, and is probably why Sam failed so entirely.
“We had some not so diplomatic moments.” Marcus admits, feeling that she is owed some truth as well. “But we aren’t going to punish you for mistakes that you are owning up to and trying to rectify.”
"Thank you." Vanessa half-smiles, looking around the small café, and makes the decision for herself with a small feeling of relief letting her shoulders relax for the first time in longer than she cares to admit. "I should let you enjoy your lunch," she says after a pause, and she stands. "It...was good to run into you. To clear the air."
“Good luck.” He won’t ask her to stay and continue the conversation and neither will you, but he wishes her well as she gathers her things.
"That was...unexpected." You murmur, watching Vanessa cross the street outside quickly, and duck into a pub instead of the little café you're still sitting in.
“Yeah.” Marcus blows out a breath and picks up your other hand. “How do you feel about it?”
"Weirdly...good?" It feels awful to admit, but getting an apology from someone who was actively trying to ruin your life not so long ago feels incredibly settling. "Or at least it feels validating. To know that we weren't crazy in thinking that Sam really was trying to hurt us so actively." It also feels awful to know that you were right about your ex not caring about you during your entire relationship, but that is a separate issue.
He sees the frown and he brings your hands up to kiss them gently. “At least we know now. You know.”
“Knowing is good.” You can agree to that, even as downtrodden as you feel right now. You got out of the relationship, found your soulmate, and are getting married. Everything is falling into place in the best way possible. But the sticky, icky, despicable sensation in your chest at being used isn’t exactly nice. “It still doesn’t feel good, though.”
“No it doesn’t.” He knows that feeling in a sense. Looking back at things objectively, it seemed like Teresa used him to prod Jane along, to pull his buried feelings out of him. “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” He asks softly, hating how your shoulders are rounded and your voice has dipped down.
“No.” This awful feeling will pass, you’ll regain your good humor, and this weekend won’t be ruined by a chance encounter in a restaurant. You won’t let it happen. “Let’s enjoy our lunch.”
He wants to ask if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. Giving you a reassuring smile, he glances towards the waiter. “How about a glass of wine?”
Determined to smile and to not be upset over a relationship that you ended willingly to begin with, you sit up your seat, roll your shoulders back, and turn your eyes back to Marcus. “Something bubbly, I think? We’re on vacation, after all.”
He smiles and nods. “I think that is completely appropriate. And it looks like they have a nice champagne on the menu.”
“Perfect.” You squeeze Marcus’s hand gently, thanking him for sticking with you through the tidal waves of clashing emotions you’re dealing with.
“Not nearly as perfect as you are.” There’s an odd sense of relief to have that chapter firmly closed, at least on Vanessa’s end. “Hopefully nothing else will happen.”
“Fingers crossed.” Huffing a soft laugh, you just shrug your shoulders and get in with ordering your lunch. It does no good to dwell and ruin the time away you have with Marcus. No good at all.
Panting, Marcus stares at the ceiling, nearly giggling at the bubbly, blissed out exhaustion that settles in the very marrow of his body. “Good girl.” He praises. “Good fucking girl.” Your own body is collapsed in a spent heap and he trails his fingers over your spine as you come down from the last, most intense orgasm of the night.
A matching giggle bubbles out of you as you curl into his side, utterly spent and gazing up at him with moony eyes. “Baby…” you laugh again, and half-turn toward him lamely. Your wrists are still bound with the tie he wore out to dinner. “Can I have my hands back?”
“Maybe I like you all bound up for me.” He teases, turning and working on the knots that are now harder than what he had originally tied because of you pulling and tugging on the restraint. Eager to touch him and frustrated by your inability to do so. “Next time I’ll tie you to the bed.”
“We’ll be back in our big four poster at home tomorrow night.” With your hands free, you loop your arms around his neck to kiss him soundly. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
“There’s something about being at home, isn’t there?” He asks, his hand coming up and tenderly caressing your throat where he had held it as he pounded into you. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“Perfect level of rough,” you promise. Experimenting with his more dominant side had turned into a much-loved habit over your year together, and though you don’t get rough every single time you have sex it is definitely something you both enjoy.
“Do you need anything, sweetheart?” He asks. “Water, a rag?” Sometimes you like to keep his cum inside you, sometimes you like to clean up right after. And after every rough session, he likes to dote on you.
“I should say water.” Your eyes gleam with mischief. “But do we have any more wine? That bottle we bought in the Village was amazing.”
He smirks at your cheeky response and leans in to bite your bottom lip. “Sure.” He hums before he is climbing off the bed to get the lovely wine the two of you indulged in before your romp.
Tonight is one of those nights that you both indulged in the fantasy of getting pregnant, and lying in bed with a glass of wine with the sticky slick combination of your cum slowly dripping from your pussy sounds like pure indulgence. Plus you stashed Marcus’s Valentine’s gift in the bedside table, so there’s that too. You grab it now and slip it under your pillow, waiting for him to come back.
Pouring two glasses he turns back to admire your sprawled form as he bites his lip. It’s Valentine’s Day and the two of you have completely indulged today. Now, he needs to give you the gift he had picked out months ago.
“What’s that look for?” You hum, grinning back at him when he returns to your side in bed. “Did you suddenly remember how amazingly lucky I am to have you as my soulmate?”
“More like I remember how lucky I am.” He retorts. “I have a wonderful, sexy woman who indulges my desires and matches them.”
“So I guess we’re both lucky, then.” He hands you your glass and you take a sip, glad that you opted for a white wine tonight so you won’t accidentally ruin the sheets if you get playful. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiles as he leans in to take a kiss from your wine soaked lips. “Have you enjoyed our weekend away?”
“To me it’s been perfect.” There are more kisses for both of you, never able to have enough of tasting or even just being near each other. “Have you enjoyed it too?”
“Hell yes I have.” He promises. “It’s been an incredible weekend, one we needed. No work, just us.”
“I’m just glad we both got through the weekend without any work emergencies.” The inn is in good hands, as Selena has finished her training to become your new manager and she and Malachi are running the place as smoothly as ever between them in your absence.
“Yeah, me too.” He takes a sip of the wine and sighs softly. “Part of me doesn’t want to go back. Just live in the hotel and run away from responsibility.”
“You would miss work pretty soon.” He loves his job, and you know that. It’s a very serious point of pride even though it’s very taxing on him sometimes. “My offer still stands, my love. Whenever you decide to retire from the FBI, you have my full support.”
“I know, and I’m very grateful for your support.” He promises. “It will come eventually, but I’m happy in my career right now and my team is excellent.”
“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” you promise him. With Marcus it’s always about support and communication, so having the small check-ins often is key.
“How about you?” He asks. “The inn is becoming even more popular and nearly full every night.”
“It’s nice that we’re not seeing the after affects of the smear campaign anymore.” It seems like the good will from your social media posts surrounding wedding planning has really worked to verse the damage Sam did months ago, and ever since the holidays the inn has been booked solid. “I’ve been thinking about adding an afternoon tea,” you admit, giving him a sheepish look. “Syd’s sous chef is English and French trained and the three of us were thinking about trying out an Italian-inspired tea service for Mother’s Day.”
“Like the tea cakes and sandwiches?” Marcus smirks slightly. “I can see that being a real draw.” He admits. “Older ladies coming in to socialize and then young girls coming in to learn how to take tea. Paninis and cannolis. Cups of tiramisu.”
“Teacups full of individual tiramisu was Syd’s first idea.” It’s sweet to see him get excited and you glow with pride. “I thought it would be nice to give Syd this Mother’s Day off but she came back with a whole new business idea.”
“I think she’s imagining Constance having tea there, with our girls when they are old enough.” Marcus smiles at the thought.
“It’s a beautiful thought.” The dreaminess on his face is obvious, making your heart swell at the promise of growing the family you’re building with this man. Your other half. Your better half. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” He promises softly, his own dreams for the future in his eyes. “I have your present, to show you how much.”
“I thought my roses were my present?” In fact, you and Marcus must have given the hotel staff a good chuckle this weekend, because you both ordered a dozen long stem red roses to the hotel room — addressed to each other — that arrived with your breakfast tray with room service this morning.
He gives you a look, one that tells you that you are being ridiculous and moves to his bag to pull out the lovely wrapped gift he had brought for you.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you laugh, sliding his gift out from under your pillow to hand over to him.
He huffs at you, even as a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You should know that roses were going to be your only Valentine’s Day gift.” He hadn’t been expecting anything, and his eyes soften at the sight of a gift for him.
“They weren’t going to be your only gift either,” you tut. But sitting up together in your hotel bed, naked with glasses of wine and hearts utterly full, seems like the perfect time to exchange gifts. “This looks suspiciously like a jewelry box, Agent Pike.”
“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” Marcus pleads his innocence, even as he smirks.
“Mmhmm.” Giggling to yourself all over again, you nudge Marcus’s package toward him so you can both open them at the same time.
“I need you to open yours first.” He wants to watch your expression and put it on you if you want.
“Very mysterious.” You eye him but obey, pulling open the ribbon on the little wrapped box and tear away the dark red paper to reveal a silver jewelry box — exactly as you suspected. When you remove the lid, a small gasp of surprise and wide eyes come with an open mouth reaction. “Is this…?” The delicate silver necklace inside has a heart pendant hanging from it in the center, but the back clasp is on display in the box: a lock, not a claw.
“A collar.” Marcus nods, watching you seriously as he picks up the small, ornate key and showing it to you. “We’ve talked about it, teasing about it, but I found this and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
"Honey, it's beautiful." To the outside observer, the inconspicuous little heart is a sweet token of love from your soulmate. For you and Marcus, it's a next step into the world that you've been exploring together. "I wouldn't have been able to stop thinking about it, either."
“You know you have me, every single part of me, and I have you.” He reaches out and caresses your neck. “This would be between us. Our little secret from the world. My claim on you.”
The little lock on the necklace is meant to be done for you, and you raise your eyes back to Marcus. "Will you do the honors?"
“Do you want to wear my collar, sweetheart?” He asks seriously. “Keeping me close to your heart every day?”
"I really do," you lean across the small expanse to kiss him, just as soft and steadily as the rhythm of your heartbeat. "Even though you're already in my heart every single day. This is just another way to show the whole world."
Marcus hums as you hold out the necklace to him and he carefully unlocks it. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t take it off.” He tells you as he wraps it around your neck and closes the lock to secure it around your neck.
"I know I can always ask you." There are some occasions when it won't be appropriate -- State dinners, your wedding, the fanciest things that you'll do in your lives -- but each and every day of your life the necklace will either go on or off and that means that Marcus will always be with you even when he's away.
Once the necklace is locked around your neck, Marcus leans in and presses his lips to it and your skin gently.
"I feel a bit like I underdid it now," you admit, touching the necklace gently with your fingertips. "But I still hope you like it."
He snorts, not even able to imagine you not putting incredible thought and time into his gift. He picks up the box and shakes it like a kid at Christmas, grinning at you. “Nahhhh, sounds fun.”
"Oh yeah." You snort and wave one hand casually. "I figured Lincoln Logs were the most romantic gift possible."
He laughs and shakes his head as he starts to unwrap the beautiful paper. “Whatever it is, I appreciate you getting me something.” He murmurs. “A lot of women seem to think valentines is only for them.”
"You are the most romantic man on the planet." While he works open the paper you lean back in the pillows and toy with your new necklace. "I couldn't possibly leave you out of the celebration this weekend. That would be awful."
“You would be surprised how often it happens.” He knows you wouldn’t and it makes him appreciate you even more. “Babe….” he freezes when he opens the box and sees the lighter that is nestled into the protective fabric. “Is this— it’s a 1939-45 World War II Trench lighter.” He murmurs, admiring how the patina on the metal is meticulously cared for. “How did you know to get this?”
The awe on his face is enough to tell you that you made the right decision, and you leave a kiss on his cheek with pleasure. "I may have dug in your eBay search history a little," you admit without shame. "Your lighter collection is a point of pride and I know you want to keep growing it."
“I- I love it.” He promises you, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “So many of these have been lost or discarded but they all have so many stories ingrained in every flick of the flint.”
"The shop I got it from had a little history of previous owners." The handwritten card is tucked inside the lid of the cigar box, and you nudge Marcus to keep going. "You have to keep unwrapping, though."
“There’s more?” He huffs, rolling his eyes playfully and carefully setting the lighter aside to pull out a box of cigars. “Very nice.”
His smile makes you glow, so happy to see him accepting these shows of love and tokens of affection. "Now that you have a porch to sit out on at night, I thought you should be able to enjoy an indulgence you couldn't have while living in an apartment or the inn."
“That is as long as you don’t hate the smell.” He eyes you, even as he opens the box and pulls out a cigar to smell, groaning at the aroma.
"I called your dad to make sure I got the ones you and he smoke when we're in Texas," you admit. "So I already know I like the smell of these."
“Good.” He chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He asks. “The universe couldn’t have chosen better.”
"I was just thinking the same about you." Nudging his nose with yours brings a smile to both of your faces. The perfectly contented kind of smile that is somehow both enraptured and at peace all at once. "So I'm very glad we agree."
“That’s why we are soulmates.” He reasons, giddy to be celebrating the holiday with his soulmate, his fiancée and the woman he will spend the rest of his life with.
______
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