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wardenparker · 2 years ago

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Starting Over - Chapter 5

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Recently arrived in Texas and only slightly removed from his divorce, Marcus finds himself smitten with the women at the housewares store that is helping him furnish his new Austin condo. It becomes a more complicated situation than he could have expected, but Marcus has never been one to shy away from a challenge when love is on the line. ✨This fic takes place *before* the events of The Mentalist.✨

Rating: E for Explicit Word Count: 9.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this fic will include divorce, past abusive relationships, deceased mothers, father issues/family trauma, unplanned pregnancy.* Cursing and food mentions, legalities, big conversations full of emotions. Oral sex (f and m receiving). Summary: This chapter picks up right where ch4 left off, so it’s still the night of the discovery and there is a lot more discussion to be had. Notes: Things are starting to get super serious for our adoring couple, but we all know Marcus was born to be a daddy.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

"What do you want?" In all of this, he might be most ashamed of forgetting to factor in your feelings about all of this. You know what the truth is, and it should have never been his decision to make for what level of intimacy you have with him. It's not like you are being misled. Amanda is right next door and will be under the same roof if she doesn't go to a hotel.

Sighing deeply, you barely realized you were holding your breath until it’s pushing out of your lungs. The honest, underlying fear Marcus might get angry about having his paradigm challenged is dissipating and your chest doesn’t feel so tight anymore. “I…want to be able to be with you.” You murmur, eyes downturned to just looking at your hands when they come away from his arms. “It’s been almost two months, and I’m still referring to you as the guy I’m seeing at work because I’m afraid of calling you my boyfriend and pissing off Amanda. I want to know what side of the bed you sleep on and if you’re a blanket hog. What your skin tastes like first thing in the morning and whether or not you snore. It’s okay with me if it happens slowly…I just hate losing time with you because of the threat of Amanda always over our heads.”

Marcus gives a small sigh, ashamed of how he's lost sight of what is really important, his future, while he's battling his past. "I sleep on the side closest to the door, regardless of how the bed is positioned." He tells you with a shrug. "I know it sounds weird and it drove Amanda crazy, but it's so I can be between you and an intruder if someone were to break in."

“I—I, um…I looked something up. Some…legal specifics.” Curiosity had overwhelmed you, one night when he had been working late, and you had fallen down the Google rabbit hole of legal terminology. “The legal definition of infidelity relies on the affair being secret from one or more spouses. Legally speaking,” because you’ve both been obsessed with the legal ramifications of being together, and if Amanda could use it as ammunition in the renewed divorce, “that Facebook post was the smartest thing we could possibly have done.”

"You are right." He had a conversation with the lawyers and given the history of this case, none of them felt like Amanda would be able to try to claim infidelity. Especially considering she had admitted to cheating in Oregon and Marcus had never wanted the divorce withdrawn.

“So if we’re not worried about the legality of our relationship,” reaching for him again, you’re relieved when his hand slips into yours easily. “And we’re looking a little less at being the polar opposite of your father in terms of behavior…maybe we can pinpoint the things that really bother you the most about how he treated your mother, and see if any of them even apply to us?” It’s such a delicate topic that you wish you didn’t have to dig into it at all, but the fact is that it’s fairly vital. From an outside perspective, Marcus is stuck between the same rock and hard place that Andrew Packard was thirty-five years ago. But the fact is that the two situations are wildly different.

He loves how practically you are approaching this, rather than just dismissing it. "I hated how he would breeze into town and apologize for being late because of some function his wife had planned. Or have to cancel a trip with my mother because his daughter had a sports function that he was expected to show up to." He admits. "It was smoothed over with flowers or some bracelet for her and a toy for me when I was younger."

“Okay.” You nod immediately, lacing your fingers through his and reflexively bringing his hand to your lips to leave a kiss on his skin. “So keeping commitments. We’re pretty good at that. We’ve only had to reschedule things a few times, and we always actually do the thing we’ve rescheduled. We just need to keep holding each other accountable. And we’re pretty good at that so far.”

Marcus' shoulders round and sag slightly. "This has all just been an overreaction to my own childhood." He admits quietly. "I never expected to get divorced in the first place, but I – finding out I wasn't was like a kick in the teeth."

With just a little encouragement, Marcus leans into your side so you can put an arm around him, and you kiss his temple softly. “It’s not an overreaction, love. It’s an honest reaction. Which is why I don’t want you to just dismiss it by jumping back into the literal bed with me.” You chuckle despite yourself. “Not like I’m not looking forward to it. I am. But we cannot and should not pretend like this stuff is all just imaginary, because it’s not.” For a second you sit with him, silently stroking one hand up and down his back. “Do you know why I go out to the garden to do all my introspection?”

"Hmm?" He loves your scent and closes his eyes as he leans against you a little more, his hand sliding over to rest on your stomach.

“Because that’s where my mom always went.” Your hand floats down, settling over his on your belly. “She used to say she was going out to talk to the fairies. Now…I don't know if there are fairies in Texas, but I know that I picked up my mother’s habit of going outside to think. So if that one thing from my childhood stuck with me, then why shouldn’t parts of your childhood stick with you, too?”

"Maybe I should go see a therapist." Marcus suggests quietly. "Work it out so it doesn't have any other issues in our relationship." He leans in and kisses your cheek before he moves slightly and kisses your lips.

“Mm,” you hum against his lips instinctively, keeping the moment short but sweet. “That sounds like a pretty good idea.” With everything going on with Amanda, and childhood issues to sort through, it might actually do him wonders. “Do you want me to find out the name of the guy Madi goes to? He likes him a lot.” Whatever happened to make your roommate’s boyfriend leave the FBI, it has been big and bad, but the normally boisterous and even cocky former agent had needed a hell of a lot of help to get back to his old self.

Marcus nods. "Yeah." He has no issue asking for help and he wants to make sure that any hang-ups he had didn't affect you or the baby again.

“Okay.” Two fingers under his chin bring Marcus’s lips back to yours for a slightly longer but still chaste kiss. “I’ll find out for you, baby. But that doesn’t mean I want us to stop talking about things, too.”

"No. We will keep talking." He promises as he leans in to still another kiss and lets it last longer than the one you had given. "You are amazing and patient and you are going to be a hell of a mother." He praises when he pulls back.

“Just…can I ask you for one thing?” It feels so stupid. Honestly, petty at best. But it’s been bothering you for weeks and if you move forward into being pregnant with this on your shoulders, you’re afraid you’re going to start accidentally being mad about it.

“What’s that baby?” He would probably do anything for you.

“I know it’s juvenile. We’re in our 30s and titles shouldn’t matter. But…I can’t help being a little frustrated by the fact that I’m actually afraid to call you my boyfriend, or partner, or whatever term is most comfortable for you. I don’t want to impose myself on you, but…I think the baby did that for us. I…I need to know what I am to you.”

"Oh baby." Marcus leans back and searches your slightly worried and frustrated face. "I'm your boyfriend, your lover, your partner, your fiancé-to-be." He gives you a grin. "Your baby daddy. Whatever you want to call me. As long as you know I'm yours."

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head a little, clearly embarrassed, and huff a sigh. “I know needing a title might seem juvenile. It’s just…things are weird. And I find that having the right names for things helps me sort out my thoughts a little better.”

"No, it's not juvenile." He chides. "What do you want me to be? What do you want to call me?"

“Honey,” you shake your head again, dropping your eyes away from his. “I need you to tell me. The reason this makes me uneasy is that I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing or pressuring you. So…I need it to be the term you’re most comfortable with.”

"Call me your fiancé." He whispers softly, reaching out and cradling your jaw in his hand. "Because I might not have proposed yet with the words I want to say to you, but I am going to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you."

Of all the possible answers in the world, that was definitely one that you were not expecting. A few honest, and honestly surprised, tears escape the corners of your eyes and you blink them away quickly. “I love you,” is the sentence that you manage to sniffle out before you close the distance between you with a kiss.

He hums against your lips and closes his eyes, having missed kissing you every single day since that one perfect night. Pressing a bit firmer and coaxing your mouth open slowly while his thumb strokes your jaw lovingly. There’s nothing frantic about this kiss, as opposed to the frenzied effort to get closer to each other that you’d gotten lost in earlier. Instead it’s deep, moving through you and wrapping itself around the two of you together to tie you up in an unbreakable knot.

His tongue slowly glides against yours and he knows that whatever else he might believe, this - this is complete perfection.

You sigh against him, melting even more into his arms and into the sofa. This is beyond doubt - slowly building rather than frantically grasping - and this time you’re not embarrassed to moan softly into his kiss or slide your hands up his chest to feel his heartbeat under your palm. He settles you back gently, the stretching out over you so slow and natural that he doesn't realize he's on top of you.

“Marcus…” The way you whimper his name when you break the kiss to trail your lips down his jaw and neck.

He pulls back and looks seriously into your eyes. "I want to make you feel good, baby." He whispers, salivating at the idea of burying his tongue inside you and seeing if your taste has changed with the influx of hormones. "Do you want that?"

“Y-yes.” Your voice hitches at the feeling of his breath on your skin. “God, yes.”

"Do you want me to do it here?" He asks, cock twitching in his pants. "Or do you want to go upstairs and stretch out in your bed?"

You bite your lip, feeling the tips of your ears burn. “Am I too needy if I don’t want to lose the twelve seconds it will take to get upstairs?”

"No, you're just reading my mind." He grins and reaches for your leggings before starting to drag them down your legs.

The very loud ‘It’s happening!’ voice in your head is drowned out by another of your own moans, and you can’t pull your legs free of your pants anywhere near as fast as you want to. “Needy together, then,” you gasp out, nearly shuddering when you feel his breath on your bare legs.

He chuckles, unable to do more than spread your legs and settle between them. Kissing up your thighs with soft presses of his lips, he hums when your fingers tangle into his hair. "I've been neglecting you and I need to make up for it, baby." He coos, sliding his arms under your hips and tilting them up and moaning at how wet you already are.

“I get to— oohhh!” Your insistence that he get ‘made up to’ next is cut off when Marcus lowers his mouth to you, placing a soft kiss on your swollen, glistening clit.

He groans, the wetness of you already smearing across his lips and he dips his tongue through your folds to taste you.

“Fuuuck.” Refusing to let your head drop back no matter how much your impulse is to just let yourself flop with a groan, you keep your eyes locked on Marcus, clocking every movement of every muscle as he settles between your legs.

There’s nothing on this earth that could stop him right now. Hands gripping your hips, he moans into your pussy and starts relearning your cunt like it was the first time. Nibbling, licking and sucking like it’s his only job. Right now, it is. The last time, it had been a struggle to keep standing. Now, seven godforsaken weeks later, the dreamlike memory of that frantic night is very different to the loving, indulgent strokes of Marcus’s tongue through your folds. The fingers of one hand tangle in his hair while your entire other hand clings to the edge of the couch for dear life.

He loves every sigh and gasp you make. Every choked sob and jerk of your hips. Keeping his tongue continuously moving, curling around that nub of nerves before flattening over the entirety of your gushing sex. This was the way he had wanted to wake you up that next morning. Keeping it slower than the first time but no less eager.

“M-Marcus…ohh—” Every new stroke and flick of his tongue sends you keening, replacing your normal verbal praise with the needy rocking and grinding down of your hips. His pace is completely devastating, as he never wavers from his goal of wrecking you one lick at a time.

He nearly closes his eyes but he doesn’t want to miss a second of your blissed out expression. Every ‘oh’ and bite of your lip works him up and makes him drag his tongue over that spot again so you repeat that look. He’s been starving for you after nearly eight weeks and he’s not pulling away from you until he’s satisfied.

“S-so good baby, fuck.” His blunt fingernails dig into your skin as he pushes you so close to your peak you could cry, and the breathless noises of pleasure from your lips are somehow words again. Every one of them a desperate moment of pleasure in the best sort of way. “Gonna— god, baby, so close…”

He hums, pulling you into his tongue harder and groans when he watches your head tilt back and a loud cry of his name comes out of your mouth. You shatter like glass, sobbing Marcus’s name while your body shakes and hums under his attention. Under an orgasm that hits you like a freight train.

Marcus moans, nearly cumming himself at the sound, feel, and taste of your pleasure. He hadn’t been jerking off often, too concerned with Amanda trying to get into his bathroom while he was showering to risk it. “Mmmmm.” He groans, lapping up your very essence while your thighs squeeze his head.

“Marcus,” as soon as your head clears, you’re reaching for him, dragging him up your body to sink against his lips without a single thought given to the fact that now both of your chins are going to be slick with cum.

He enjoys being on top of you right now, knowing that it will soon be something that can’t happen with the swelling of the little one growing.

Drowning together in long, drawn-out kisses, the cradle of your open thighs is plenty of room for his trim hips and the heavy length between them that presses hard against your leg. “Baby,” you nip at his bottom lip, pulling a groan out of his throat. “Let me take care of you? Please?”

He knows you want to, and he’s got to selfishly acknowledge that he wants it as well. “You don’t have to.” He reminds you, just because he never wants you to feel like it’s expected.

You huff at him, playfully narrowing your eyes. “I haven’t gotten to touch you in seven weeks, and I know you don’t masturbate as much as I do.” One raised eyebrow dares him to challenge you. “I want to.”

He huffs, blushing slightly. “I’m slightly concerned with my ex-wife trying something.” He reminds you, remembering the time she had tried to walk into the shower with him in hopes of enticing him.

“It’s a good thing I’ll be there from now on,” you kiss both of his cheeks and grin. “And if she tries to suggest a threesome, I’m going to laugh so hard I’ll fall over.”

Marcus snorts and shakes his head. “Never would happen. I mean—” he tilts his head at you and sends you a serious look. “If you wanted a threesome, we could talk about it, but not with her.”

“I’ve never been into sharing,” you admit quietly. “I don’t know if it’s old fashioned or narrow minded or maybe a little possessive, but I’m definitely a one-partner woman.”

“Thank god.” Marcus huffs, relieved at your admission. He would have talked about it with you because realistically he knows there are things he can’t give you, but he’s of the same mindset. “Closed relationship with two people sounds perfect.”

“Mmm, we should celebrate that.” Your hand snakes between your bodies, lithe fingers closing around his clothed cock and squeezing experimentally.

“Jesus, fuck.” Marcus hisses, hips jerking up. One innocent touch shouldn’t affect him this badly but it’s you and you have the ability to strip him down to about twelve-years-old jerking off over seeing a hint of cleavage.

“Do you want to lay back or sit up, baby?” Reluctantly taking your hands off of him only makes you hungrier to touch and taste him, and the way that he shudders above you makes you want a damn video so you watch him cum on demand.

“Lay down.” He tells you immediately, not wanting you on the floor. His hand brushes your hair back and he hates pulling away for even a moment.

Two people with a goal in mind can move very quickly, and in no more than a few seconds, you’ve switched places to be kneeling in between his legs instead, already tugging open his belt buckle with a measure of excitement and anticipation in the air.

“I love you.” Marcus is practically whimpering the sentiment, so worked up he knows he’s going to be almost embarrassingly quick. He lifts his hips when you unzip his pants and start dragging his boxer briefs down and he moans when his achingly hard cock slaps against the soft swell of his belly.

“I love you, too.” You’re practically salivating at the sight of him and let yourself just look at him for a long moment, unashamed, before you reach to wrap one hand around his cock.

He didn’t think he could get any harder until he felt the warmth of your hand around him. “Shit.” He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut because he knows if he watches you suck his cock he’s going to cum the second your tongue touches him.

“Just enjoy, my love.” You coo, leaning down to lick a long stripe under the underside of his length. The sound he makes at the first press is delicious, vibrating right through you and making your cunt clench all over again as you wrap your lips around him to take as much of him in that first stroke as you possibly can.

“Oh fuck, oh shit, baby— fuck.” Marcus whines when you take him into the exquisite heat of your mouth, back arching off the sofa and his heels pushing down. His knuckles are turning white where they are griping the cushions like he’s hanging on for dear life and he lets out a moan that if he wasn’t so worked up, he would have died of embarrassment from.

“Tastes so good.” Popping off of him with a moan to keep him worked up but not bursting, you swirl your tongue around his swollen, throbbing head. “Look at this gorgeous cock.” He twitches in your hand and against your lips, and you moan softly.

"It's yours, baby." He promises with another groan, humming when he feels the whisper of a kiss on the tip. "Fuck baby, please." He begs, not sure if he's asking for your mouth or for you to just sink down on his cock.

“Oh no,” you shake your head and wrap your lips around him again briefly. “It gave me a baby.” Somehow, in the last few minutes, that has become the most erotic thought in the world.

Your words almost make him cum. A choked whimper tears out of his throat and he throbs violently in your hand. "It did." He rasps out. "Fuck, this cock planted my baby inside you."

Grinning, you can’t ignore the way your pussy flutters and clenches down desperately but keep all your focus on Marcus. “I think it needs to be thanked for that,” you purr, dipping your head down again to swallow his cock.

The noise that comes out of his mouth can't be human. Marcus throws his head back and cries out at the surprising pressure of your soft palate and warbles out your name while his scrotum pulls tight against his body and spurts of cum pump up his shaft to burst from the tip.

Your own sounds of pleasure are muffled by the need to drink down every last drop he has to offer. A few drops of spit and cum escape the corners of your mouth to match the few tears pushed out of your eyes by how full your mouth is with him, and the feeling and taste of him are so fucking divine you could almost cum just from receiving his pleasure.

It seems like it's lasting forever, you sucking his soul out through his cock. Only when he's stopped twitching in your mouth and starts to soften do you even pull your head up to sit back with a gasp and his eyes open to find you licking your lips like a content cat who just ate a bowl of cream. "Fuck." Marcus whispers, fingers aching when he lets go of the couch to reach down and drag you up so he can kiss you.

“I’ve wanted to do that since we met.” You meet his lips with a muffled moan, sinking into the welcoming space his body has created for you to lay.

He strokes your back and hums against your lips. "I— holy shit, I will never turn down another blow job in my life." He jokes, chuckling softly. "Is there anything you can't do?"

“I’m fairly awful at mixing drinks.” Shrugging a little, you accept the compliment with a flushed smile. “Though I guess that won’t matter for the next year or so.”

"Do you...I know that this conversation is way too early, but do you want to bottle feed or breastfeed?" He asks, wanting to know how you see this pregnancy and raising the baby to go.

“Farm girl.” You remind him with a grin. “I’ve always kind of figured that bottle feeding is supplementary. Unless there’s a medical reason I shouldn’t breastfeed, I think I would prefer it.” Cuddled into his side, the dreamy quality of talking about the future has infinite appeal.

"As long as you pump so I can feed the baby when you need to get some sleep." He tells you seriously, lifting his head so he can kiss to the top of yours. "I'm sorry that it's under these circumstances, but...I'm not sorry that it's happening."

“We’ll make everything work.” For the life of you, you refuse to say her name right now - not wanting to let the looming presence of your mutual ‘ex’ ruin your dreaming. “I…I’d like to think that this is where we would have ended up down the line anyway. Moving in together. Talking about getting married. A baby. It’s what we both wanted right from the start.”

"I know it's where we would have ended." He tells you confidently, smirking smugly to himself. "We just wouldn't have known when the conception date was. But we can tell the doctor with confidence down to the hour."

Giggling a little, you can’t help but shake your head. “The tea would have screwed with my birth control no matter what, you’re right. I wonder how many other couples can pinpoint it like that.”

"Only the ones trying and tracking ovulation." Marcus had looked into it when Amanda had told him she was ready for a baby, but whenever he mentioned seeing a doctor, she had just told him she wanted it to happen naturally.

“Then we go ahead and count ourselves lucky this time.” Perching your chin on his chest, your eyes find Marcus’s gaze. “Did you ever think about names before?”

"Not really." Marcus admits, lifting his brow at that revelation as if it's shocking to him. "She never wanted to plan; told me it was a jinx." He rolls his eyes at the knowledge that he had learned about her after she had wanted the divorce.

“And you never thought about it on your own? Or before her?” It makes your stomach churn a little, to know how much he always wanted a family and to think that he never dreamed about it the way you did. Or maybe you just dreamed about it differently than others. There was no way to know.

"Of course I have." He gives a small shrug. "I had those 'oh when I have kids I'm going to name them Charlie or Josie' but I always imagined picking out names with the girl while we were waiting on the baby to be born."

“We should get a little notebook.” The tip of your nose buries itself in the crook of his neck. “Write down ideas whenever we get them.”

“We can do that.” He smiles at the idea and tugs you closer. “Do you want a boy or girl, for the first?” He says first because he knows that there would be more than one with you.

“You want one of each?” It’s a silly question. Of course he does. Marcus’s dreamy smile matches your own in that respect. “I don’t care as long as there’s two of them. I hated being an only child.”

"Me too." He technically hadn't been an only child, but it wasn't like he had ever met his half-sisters. He raises a brow at you and bites his lip. "What do you think about having them close together?" He asks with a boyish grin.

“I think that condo is going to get crowded pretty fast.” You press in, kissing him with enthusiasm. “You only want two? I figured you’d be angling for a big family.”

"I figure how many children are pushed out of your body is entirely your decision." He promises, knowing how hard pregnancy and motherhood can be on a woman's body. "You let me know when you are done, and I will get snipped."

“My god,” you huff at him, shaking your head in near disbelief. “You are the perfect man, you know that?”

"What?" He asks, confused. "It's easier for a man to recover from a vasectomy than it is for tubes being tied and it's not healthy for you to rely on hormonal birth control for years."

“Yes, I know that, but the fact that you know that is nothing short of a damn miracle.” Rolling your eyes at him playfully, you can’t help but steal another kiss from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know how rare it is for a man to actually understand women’s health and care about it. The last guy I went out with, maybe six months before we met? He got mad that I wouldn’t just hold my period so we could have sex.”

He can't help but laugh at that, shaking his head and hugging you closer. "I was raised by a single mother." He reminds you softly. "She never wanted me to be like the last guy you dated. I was taught from an early age about that kind of thing." He gives you a small shrug. "I kept a little zipper bag of feminine products in my ever-present gym bag in case one of my female friends started and didn't have anything on them." He wasn't going to mention that it had gotten him laid more than once in college when the girls found that out, but it hadn't been his intent for carrying that bag. "When my mom found out I was sleeping with my girlfriend in high school, she sat us both down and had a very thorough conversation with us about birth control and it being both of our responsibility." He explains with a smile.

“When my mom found out I was sleeping with Erik in high school I got a prescription for birth control and a warning to never tell my father.” You roll your eyes, but only because your mother was right. Dad would not have been able to handle that information. You would have been wearing a promise ring and spending every day after school volunteering at church. “You’re going to be a great dad, Marcus. I really believe that. And I hope to god we have at least one girl so she can have parents she doesn’t have to be afraid to introduce her dates to.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "I'm an FBI agent baby, you don't think some teenage boy isn't going to be shaking at the idea of dear ‘ole dad being able to put him on the Most Wanted list?" He asks with, joking but slightly satisfied at the imagery. "I'm kidding." He says when you turn your head and narrow your eyes at him.

“You can put them on the Most Wanted list,” you smirk, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But I know what plants they’ll make the best fertilizer for if they ever hurt my baby.”

"Hmmmm, is it bad that I find that comment really sexy?" He asks softly, stroking your hair back and mirroring your smirk. You giggle and he slides into a more serious look. "I do want one thing." He admits quietly. "I want all of our children to have my last name. I want to be on the birth certificate."

“Baby, I insist on it.” Your hand covers his, bringing them both down to rest in your belly. “And I’m changing my name, too. The Pikes will be a whole family.”

He can't help but tear up at your promise. He blinks and nods, caressing your stomach gently. "A whole family." He whispers, like the way that sounds.

“I love you.” A whispered reminder in his ear, and you squeeze his hand gently over your belly. “And I love the hell out of this family we’re making.”

"I do too." He holds you for another moment before he shifts. "Okay baby, we need to get a little bit more food into you and start moving things over. And you may want to inform your roommate. How's Pike-ette treating you now?" He asks, smirking at the nickname you've already assigned the little peanut in your stomach.

“I think an orgasm may have done me a favor.” Sitting up, you grumble for a second in the search for your leggings and panties before redressing and tossing Marcus his own discarded clothes. “I don’t think Naomi will mind. She may take the opportunity to have Madison move in here, instead. His bachelor pad is half this size, and they’re starting to talk commitment.”

"Well then that works out perfectly." Marcus hums, standing up to pull his briefs and pants back up. "So, what you are telling me is that as the father of the baby, it's my duty to take care of the mother of my child by providing orgasms whenever you need them?" He asks playfully, feeling wonderfully relaxed as well.

“Only if you’re up for it as well.” You flop back down on the couch and pick up your cold soup bowl with a rather sheepish expression. “I don’t mind masturbating if you feel uncomfortable or have second thoughts about physical things again.”

He shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips. "I-I've been a selfish idiot." He tells you, reaching up with one hand to rub his cheek and the rasp of his five o'clock shadow sounds out against his palm. "No, I know what you are going to say...but I'm also realizing that she also knows about my hang ups with my father and used to keep me from developing my physical relationship with you."

“I still think therapy is a good idea.” You tell him quietly, but nod in agreement. “She’s a master manipulator, but whether she intentionally tried to put that wedge between us or not, it didn’t work.”

"Oh, I will be going to therapy sweetheart." He promises you, reaching out and taking your hand. "I'm not arrogant enough to believe that I don't need it." He winks at you and lets go of your hand before he starts carrying his plate to the kitchen to clean up. "Well how about this?" He asks from the doorway. "Ask Naomi if you can keep your bedroom set here for now if she and Madison are going to be living here. If not, we will get a storage unit and start filling my second bedroom with baby stuff and hopefully that will make Amanda go to a hotel."

“Oh, I love that.” It actually makes you giggle, the idea of bringing a crib home and moving the air mattress around to put it in place. “But I don’t want to put anything too nice or precious in that room with her. Just in case.”

He frowns at the idea of Amanda ruining things the two of you bought for the baby. "Well, the bedroom is big enough to set up a bassinet for when the baby is first home." He offers.

“If she’s still in our house when the baby comes, I will riot.” It’s only half a threat, as you help Marcus bring dinner things back into the kitchen and dig into the fridge for the oversized cupcakes you’d bought yesterday with the intention of having tonight. “She’ll get a firsthand look at New Mom Crazy.”

"Okay...that sounds sexy too." He chuckles and turns to you to pull you in his arms. "I promise I'm going to get this settled before we have the baby." He vows, kissing you softly.

“You really dig the farm girl half of my personality,” you tease, grinning up at him. “You’re going to lose your mind when you see me actually doing chores, aren’t you?”

"Well, you are not going to do the chores while you are pregnant." He reminds you, lifting a brow at you.

“I will not do heavy chores.” Putting out one hand to him, you can offer the bargain easily. “I can still feed chickens and work in the garden, and the milking is all done by machine now anyway.”

He smirks and gives you a wink. "Now I will be heavily admiring your ass while you are working around the farm if you are doing that kind of work."

“I’ll be wearing my favorite tight jeans while I still can.” You promise him, leaning against him again like you can’t get enough of his warmth. Going to visit your dad always means a bit of farm work while you’re there, and you never really mind it. It’s soothing in its monotony.

"Hmmmm." He smirks and reaches down to cup your ass playfully. "I like that. But first we need to get you moved over enough that you spend the first of every night possible in my arms."

"Cupcakes upstairs while I pack the first round of bags?" The enticement of being able to sleep beside him again is too good. Falling asleep and waking up in his arms is exactly where you want to be.

"Deal." He flashes you a boyish grin. "Although I'll help you pack."

"I guess I'll actually have to wear pajamas." On the way upstairs you throw an extra, deliberate sway into your hips, knowing his eyes will be following your ass. "Too bad. I usually like to sleep naked."

"Why would you have to wear pajamas?" He asks you with pout on his face, not liking that idea at all. "The bedroom door is locked every night. I won't sleep with the door unlocked with her there."

"Plenty of naked fiancée for you, then." It's the first time you've said it - a little apprehensive about using it even when he was the one who suggested it - but claiming that close of a relationship with Marcus makes you feel positively giddy. Like a lightning bug on a sugar high. "I like that. It...it feels good."

"It does feel good." He adds a spring to his step and bounds up the few steps he was lagging behind so he could watch your ass and once you are on the landing, he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck from behind you. "I know that it's not— normal...do you want to pick out engagement rings together or do you want me to surprise you?" He asks softly, knowing that he wants you to have a physical symbol of his promise despite you moving into his house and carrying his child.

"Nothing about us is normal." The solid, very real presence of him against you is as calming as ever, but the way your heartbeat races a little thinking about the future is unmistakable. "What if we go pick something out together, and then you can decide when to give it to me as a surprise?"

"I like the way you compromise." He murmurs, kissing your ear before he leans back and lets you go, knowing that you will never get packed up to move if he keeps grabbing you.

"I still want to be surprised." You grin when he backs off, knowing you'll both get carried away again too easily. "I just don't want you spending a fortune on me."

He gives you a sour look, just knowing that you will want to be stingy. “Tradition says two month’s salary.” He reminds you, even though his heart melts at your lack of greed.

"Am I going to be appalled at how much money that turns out to be?" Going straight to your closet, you pull out the suitcase and backpack and other large bags from the bottom corner to fill with things to bring over. It's not that you don't want to have something nice. It's that you grew up counting every penny, and having an expensive engagement ring one day was never even on your radar.

“Well, it’s nice to know you didn’t Google the median salary for an FBI agent.” He mumbles. “How about we focus on what you want to wear instead of the price tag.” He waits until you pop your head out of the closet. “I make over six figures, honey.”

"Jesus," you shake your head at him before passing over a handful of dresses for him to lay in the suitcase. "I don't know a lot about jewelry, babe. I don't know...I guess I'm not a big fan of pearls. But that's not really a standard stone for an engagement ring, anyway."

“No pearl necklaces, got it.” He can’t help but snap his fingers in disappointment. “Damn.” While he was more emotionally mature than most, he is still a guy.

"I mean..." Coming out of the closet again, you throw him a wink. "I still like the natural kind. Just not the jewelry."

He grins and gives an enthusiastic nod. “Okay! Now we are talking.” He can’t keep up the charade for long and snorts. “Seriously. No pearls. Check. I won’t be bringing you home a boring set of pearl earrings when I have been out of town for a month on a case.”

"When you've been out of town on a case, just bring yourself home." Bringing out another handful of dresses, you drop them on the bed and start folding loosely. "Maybe some flowers. Definitely lots of hugs for me and the Pike-ette."

Marcus chuckles at that nickname again and starts folding with you before he stops and huffs. “Why are we actually packing this stuff rather than carrying it on the hangers next door and putting it in the closet?” He asks, turning to you and holding up the dress he’s just removed from the hanger.

You stop dead, looking at the empty hanger in your hand, and snort. "Because I'm a dumbass," you laugh, waving him off when you see the way he's narrowing his eyes at you. "Forget the dresses. We can carry those, you're right. Jeans and panties and shirts can go in the bags." With that plan in mind, you move to your dresser and pull open the bottom drawer. "What about you? I don't have strong jewelry-related feelings for the most part, but do you?"

“I’m pretty easy going.” He tells you. “I just want you to have my ring on your finger. Call it macho bullshit or whatever, but it’s more of my promise to you to be faithful and love you.” He moves over to grab a gym bag and moves into the bathroom to grab your toiletries.

"So how about this?" Jeans, trousers, underwear, and pajamas all stack neatly into the suitcase on your bed. "Let's sleep in tomorrow, go out for brunch whenever we manage to drag ourselves out of bed, and do a little ring browsing downtown? Maybe we'll find something or maybe we'll just get some better ideas, but either way it might be fun. And when we start to get headaches from looking at too many shiny things, we can come home and move over another load of my stuff?"

“I think that sounds perfect.” He tells you seriously. “Do you want to leave the towels?” He asks, sticking his head out to watch for your answer.

"Yeah, yours are way nicer." You flash him a grin. "Whoever picked those out did a nice job."

“They did do a nice job.” He hums. “Did a real nice job of letting me fill the loaf pan too.” He snickers.

"Yeah, yeah," you toss a balled-up pair of socks at him and giggle when he yelps and ducks out of the way. "Please pack my bathrobe, though. I foresee a lot of pregnant lady lounging in that thing."

“Got it!” He snags it off the hook on the back of the door and comes out with a stuffed bag. He hadn’t done more than dump your stuff in there, knowing you will want to set it up in the bathroom you will now be sharing with him.

"You're the best, baby, thank you." When he comes back in the room, you're stuffing a layer of bras on top of what's inside the suitcase to zip it up.

He smiles at you, honestly excited to have you move in, even if you had just been next door. The lingering guilt from touching you was just a residual effect of a lifetime's viewpoint being tossed aside. The question of his father's situation had floated through his mind before he trapped it back in the mental steel box he kept it in. Unwilling to open the proverbial Pandora's box right now when he still has to face Amanda. His lawyers said he could get the police to throw her out, but it would get messy and if he could stand it, just to go with the flow so he could show the courts just how accommodating he could be. However, he wasn't going to put up with her harassing you every day and had every intention of letting her know it.

"Ready to go ruin her night?" He asks, smirking slightly as he slings the bag over his shoulder and starts gathering all the clothes that you had on hangers to carry over to his closet. He had already established his side and if for some reason you wanted it, it would be an easy thing to switch his suits over.

“This will be interesting.” With an arm load of other things and your suitcase rolling behind you, you follow him back out to the hall and down the stairs, actually starting to get a little worried with each step. It was all fine to say that you wouldn’t let Amanda get to you, but you honestly have no idea how she might react. This could be ugly. Very ugly, and quickly.

Marcus's jaw sets when he puts his key in the door, knowing that there could be fireworks, but he will do as much as he can to take care of this. He opens the door and his nerves are instantly shredded. "Honey! You're home." Amanda coos when he opens the door, walking towards him with a smile that freezes when she sees hangers in his hand and your presence peeking out from behind him. "What's going on?" That tone changed from friendly to suspicious really quick and Marcus shoves the door open wider and moves off to the side so you can come in.

"I am moving my fiancée into my house." Marcus is done playing games and he knows she will find out when there is a beautiful ring on your finger and your stomach is starting to swell. Although he's waiting until you want to announce that part. "If you don't like it, leave. I'm sure the Hyatt has an amazing room with your name on it."

“Your what?” She bristles immediately, freezing in place, and her eyes shoot to your hand to look for confirmation. “Oh,” she practically snickers when she doesn’t see a ring, shaking her head at him derisively. “Marky…did the heat of the moment get the better of you? Polygamy is illegal and…” she puts one hand to her heart in mock sympathy. “I know her fingers are swollen from all that hard work, but do they really not make rings big enough?”

Marcus shoots her a glare and stands a bit straighter. "Just because there isn't a ring on her finger yet, doesn't mean there won't be." He huffs, hating that she's already attacking you. "Again, you are free to leave and divorce me at any time."

“Aw, honey, surely she wants to stay and celebrate with us?” Your fingers slip through his, lacing your hands together and bringing the back of his hands to your lips as you’ve been doing for months. “I want to hear all about your first wedding so we can do the exact opposite when we name the day.”

Amanda snorts, sending you a hateful glare. “Of course you would.” She hisses. “You want some outdoor wedding with shabby chic decor and some nauseating theme.”

Holding tight to Marcus’s hand, you honestly have to summon all your strength not to laugh in her face. Stringing up fairy lights and filling the barn with flowers from all over the farm was exactly what you had pictured when you were little. But with Marcus? You’d go to the courthouse the day his divorce was finalized and be the happiest girl in the world. “I want a marriage,” you tell her firmly, loving the look of utter confusion that flashes across her face. “Whatever the wedding is? That’s just extra.”

Amanda decides to change tactics. "Honey, I know that you are scared of me hurting you again." She coos, batting her lashes at him. "I promise you that was a huge mistake, and it will never happen again. You don't have to rush things with her because you are unsure. Besides, your father didn't even put his wife and mistress under the same roof."

You can feel him tense beside you, and the urge to just reach out and punch this woman rolls through you for about the hundredth time in two months. “He’s not his father, and I’m not his mistress.” You remind her firmly, giving Marcus’s hand a supportive squeeze. “And despite the legality? You have never been a wife to him.”

Amanda rolls her eyes. "What would you know about my marriage to Marcus?" She spits, looking back at him with doe eyes. "One little mistake shouldn't discredit all the good times we had, should it?" She asks, biting her lip and giving him a wounded look. "Remember how much fun we used to have?"

Despite your usual restraint, you actually burst out laughing at the incredibly desperate attempt to keep his attention focused on her. “Baby, I’m going to unpack this stuff, do you mind helping? The suitcase is kind of heavy.”

Marcus nods, turning and holding out his arm where the hangers are hooked over. "Take these and I'll bring the bags up." He murmurs, dismissing Amanda completely by not responding to her question.

“Thank you.” One more squeeze of his hand and you’re trading items in your arms, ready to head upstairs - with Amanda right in your heels.

"This won't look good for you Marcus." She tells him, a sharp edge to her voice. "Moving another woman into your wife's house."

Marcus snorts. "My house. You have a home in Oregon."

“We have kept absolutely no secrets from you,” you remind her, only moving past Marcus to the stairs when he hangs back to give you room. “Besides,” It’s just a split second, the way you glance back at him to check in, and the slight smile on his lips is your permission. “He doesn’t want to miss a single second of his first child’s life.”

The annoyance on her face changes to hatred in a split second. Her eyes darting down to your stomach and widening when the notion that you are pregnant registers. "You're pregnant?" She hisses, her face twisting in anger and she actually takes a step forward, quickly blocked by Marcus's larger body between you and her.

"Yes, she is." Marcus's tone is stern. "And you will not cause problems or I will go against my lawyer's advice and bounce your ass out of my house."

“There’s no scaring me off or pushing a wedge between us.” The edge in your voice is very real, not having expected that virulent tone in her reaction.

"Oh Marky." She coos, tsking like a disapproving teacher. "You really fucked this up, didn't you?" She shakes her head and gives him a fake sympathetic look. "You've just proven my case for infidelity."

“You are filing an infidelity suit?” That makes you snicker even more. “You might want to have your lawyers look up the legal definition for you first. And please, I’d like to be in the room when you hear it, so I can watch your head explode over it.”

"Any past indiscretions are forgiven when you withdraw the papers and reconciliation happens." Amanda rolls her eyes at you as if you're an imbecile.

"And there is the issue." Marcus grits out between his teeth. "I never reconciled with you nor would I ever. So yes, your past is going to be brought up." He shakes his head at her in annoyance. "Just give me the damn divorce."

“Sure,” Amanda practically bars her eyelashes at him. “Just sign over the trust, now that you’ll have access to it.”

"Not going to happen Amanda." He tells her flatly. "You do not have any rights to that money and if anyone deserves it, it's her." He nods towards you. "She is the one having my baby."

“And I don’t want it.” You tell them both honestly. If anyone would get that money, you would want it to just go to the baby one day, but that isn’t a debate to be having with Amanda.

"But I do!" Amanda actually stamps her foot and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "I deserve that money for putting up with you!" She screeches at Marcus.

“Honestly, Amanda?” You shake your head at her, and pull Marcus into the bedroom you now shared with him. “I don’t know who hurt you, or why, but I honestly am sorry.”

Marcus sighs in relief and his shoulders relax the second that the door closes. "Jesus..." He whispers, hearing her mutter to herself out in the hallway. "If you want to get to know who someone really is, just divorce them." He tells you, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” In an instant, your arms are around him, hugging him tight to you before you move to put everything down on the broad four-poster bed that you helped him choose.

"Well at least you get a full view of how I am during a divorce." He jokes, trying not to let his ex get to him.

“It won’t matter in a few months.” You promise him. “I promise you’ll never have a reason for another divorce once she’s gone.”

He smiles at you and leans over to kiss your cheek. "That's the best news I could hear." He murmurs.

“It’s you, me, and the Pike-ette.” From the bottom of the bag you’ve been carrying, you produce your smaller jewelry box and hold it up sheepishly. “Is it okay if I put my jewelry on the bureau?” He only puts his watch, wallet, and badge there usually, leaving most of the top empty.

Marcus looks at you softly, a smile playing across his lips and he nods. "Baby, you can arrange your stuff however you want to." He promises you, eager to see what the house will look like when your things are combined. "This is your home."

“It’s our home.” And that fact, that brand new fact, splits your face open into a wide grin. “I don’t want to just barge in and throw my stuff wherever.” You toss him a grin. “For all I know, you really like looking at all that blue paint and putting my jewelry box there would fuck with the room’s feng shui.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes at you, picking up a pair of balled-up socks and throwing them at you playfully. "Shut up." He huffs. "Only reason the room looks like this is because of you." Since Amanda had shown up, the finishing touches for his place had been put on hold, but this was perfect in order to be able to meld your tastes together. "That dresser is almost completely empty. I only use one drawer, so take the others for yourself."

“It’s a good thing you didn’t pay for me to come finish doing all that design work.” At the time, you would have given your left arm for that chance of privacy, even on the clock.

"Yeah." He gives you a smug smile. "Now I get that work for free."

“Nuh-uh.” You shake your head and grin. “I charge in kisses these days.”

"I like that payment system." He comes over to you and rubs your shoulders gently. "I'm going to put your stuff in the bathroom and you can move it to wherever you want, okay honey?"

“Perfect.” It’s all perfect. All of it. And that makes you grin even more while you start carefully stacking folded pairs of pants into a dresser drawer. “Hey, Marcus?”

"Yeah babe?" Marcus had just entered the bathroom but he quickly looks out to see what you might need.

You can feel yourself beaming at him. The softness in his eyes and the quizzical expression on his face meet the bright, shiny, flushed smile on your face, and you shrug at him innocently. “I’m…I just…” you chuckle a little, mostly at yourself and the pricks of water behind your eyes. “I love you. That’s all. And I’m really excited to dig in and build our life together. I…it feels really silly to say it out loud. But I thought you should know. I’m really happy.”

There is absolutely nothing more important than putting down the bottle of shampoo in his hand and walking out of the bathroom in order to come over and give you a kiss. So that is exactly what he does. Every time his lips press against yours, the guilt is a little less and he knows that this is where the two of you are supposed to be. "I love you too and I'm really happy with you."

“Mm, let’s hope that doesn’t change when the mood swings and weird food cravings kick in.” You hum against his lips, grinning into one more press of his against yours.

"I will be your Uber Eats driver for any and all weird cravings." He promises with a snicker. "And I haven't snapped at Amanda yet, so you are golden."

“That’s true,” you giggle back. “She did set the bar for matrimonial behavior incredibly low.”

"She wasn't all bad." Marcus admits. "But I see her true colors now."

“I know I’m not perfect, but at least I’ll always have an example of what not to be.” Up on your toes, you press another kiss to his lips. “And if I ever slip, I’m telling you right now to drag my ass into therapy with you, because something would be very wrong to make me act like that.”

Marcus smiles and hums happily, amazed that you are so kind and strong, even with him facing everything that he has been. Now with you being pregnant on top of everything, it's just proof that you are one in a million. "Same for me. If I ever start acting in some way that makes you uneasy or uncomfortable, you tell me."

“We’re going to be fine.” The repetition is for both of you.

"I have no doubt, baby." Marcus pats your ass and kisses you one last time before he turns around to go back into the bathroom. He couldn't wait to get you settled into the house with him and fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you tonight.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri

Starting Over: @spideysimpossiblegirl @inspiringmelodrama @pedrilf @thevoiceinyourheadx @goodgriefitsawildworld @badassbaker @rebel-fanfare @canadianmaebe @amneris21 @kulicny @nagassia @bruxasolta @elfwriter1088 @mrsparknuts @graciexmarvel @maryfanson @what-iwish-you-knew @karlawithacapitalk

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #The Mentalist #The Mentalist fanfic #tw divorce #tw abusive partner #tw unplanned pregnancy #pregnant reader

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staydandy · 2 years ago

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Genre : Mystery

As of April 11, 2024 this Genre Library will no longer be updated (reached a word/link limit). Please refer to the New Version here.

🇨🇳 China Ancient Detective (2020) Being a Hero (2022) - Full List Be Reborn (2022) Deep in My Heart (2019) Desire Catcher (2023) - Full List Detective Samoyeds (2017) - Full List Evil Minds 2 (2016) Insect Detective (2020) Insect Totem (2023) - Full List Joy of Life (2019) - Full List Justice in the Dark (2023) - Full List A League of Nobleman (2023) - Full List Lookism (2019) Never Say Never (2019) Ordinary Greatness (2022) - Full List Pledge of Allegiance (2023) - Full List See You Again (2022) - Full List Sleuth of Ming Dynasty (2020) Under the Microscope (2023) - Full List

🇰🇷 South Korea Adamas (2022) - Full List Awaken (2020) Bad and Crazy (2021) Big Mouth / Mouse (2022) - Full List Blind (2022) - Full List Brain Works (2023) - Full List Café Minamdang (2022) - Full List Chimera (2021) Color Rush (2020) Confession (2019) Crash Course in Romance (2023) - Full List Criminal Minds (2017) Cross (2018) Defendant (2017) The Devil Judge (2021) - Full List Doctor John (2019) Duel (2017) - Full ListFalsify (2017) - Full List The First Responders Season 1 (2022) - Full List The Forbidden Marriage (2022) - Full List From Now On, Showtime! (2022) - Full List God’s Quiz (2010) God’s Quiz: Reboot (2018) Grid (2022) - Full List Healer (2014) He is Psychometric (2019) Item (2019) Jinxed At First (2022) - Full List Jirisan (2021) Life on Mars (2018) - Full List Melting Me Softly (2019) - Full List Memorist (2020) - Full List Military Prosecutor Doberman (2022) - Full List Missing: The Other Side (2020) - Full List Numbers (2023) - Full List Pinocchio (2014) - Full List Poong, the Joseon Psychiatrist (2022) - Full List Poong, the Joseon Psychiatrist Season 2 (2023) - Full List Revenge of Others (2022) - Full List Sell Your Haunted House (2021) Stealer: The Treasure Keeper (2023) - Full List Taxi Driver Season 1 (2021) - Full List Taxi Driver Season 2 (2023) - Full List Train (2020) - Full List Vagabond (2019) - Full List Watcher (2019) - Full List You’re All Surrounded (2014)

🇯🇵 Japan Alice in Borderland Season 2 (2022) - Full List Associate Professor Akira Takatsuki’s Guess (2021) Deep Crime Unit : DCU (2022) - Full List Fallen Angel (2012) - Full List Kei x Yaku: Dangerous Partners (2022)

🇹🇼 Taiwan Danger Zone Chapter 1: The Dark Night (2021) HIStory 3: Trapped (2019) Oh No! Here Comes Trouble (2023) - Full List

🇹🇭 Thailand Chains of Heart (2023) - Full List The Eclipse (2022) - Full List Midnight Museum (2023) - Full List Miracle of Teddy Bear (2022) - Full List Not Me (2021) To Sir, With Love (2022) - Full List

🇺🇸 America 12 Monkeys (2015) The 4400 (2004) American Gods (2017) Awake (2012) Bates Motel (2013) Beyond (2017) Carnivàle (2003) Castle (2009) Criminal Minds (2005) Fringe (2008) Jericho (2006) Lie to Me (2009) The Mentalist (2008) Midnight, Texas (2017) Mindhunter (2017) Numb3rs (2006) Supernatural (2005) Zoo (2015)

🇬🇧 UK The Fades (2011) Houdini and Doyle (2016)

#mystery #whump lists #whump list #whump list library #asian whump #american whump #china #south korea #japan #taiwan #america #uk #united kingdom

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wyofabdoms · 4 years ago

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Masterlist

All works are 18+ unless otherwise indicated

(All works can be found on Archive of Our Own here, written under the name Fanforlife84)

(Join my taglist by filling out this form)

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Undercover I Do (Complete)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Ten Days (Complete)

Frankie “Catfish” Morales (Triple Frontier)

Don’t Say Anything (Complete)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Across Time (Working Title- Coming Soon)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Te Briirud (WIP)

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

Bathtime (Complete)

Ezra (Prospect)

History (WIP)

Chapter 1 - Job Description

Chapter 2- Marry Her

#pedro pascal fanfiction #masterlist

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albertasunrise · 4 years ago

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Coffee and Crisis - Chapter 1

So this is my first Mentalist Fanfiction with Marcus Pike. I loved the Mentalist and only recently realised that it was our dear Pedro that played the perfect Pike.

Summary: Marcus has been pretty unlucky in love. With a failed Marriage and engagement under his belt, will his luck finally change when he meets a pretty, young English girl in his favourite cafe?

Warning/Content: Angst, Blood and Injury,

Paring: Marcus Pike/ Original Female Character

It was a chilly day in September. The trees were almost bare of their leaves. Branches waving in the city breeze, sounds of wood knocking together joined the cacophony of city sounds. Marcus scrubbed a hand over his face as he approached the cafe that had become a staple in his morning routine, always stopping for a coffee and a muffin without fail before heading into the office across the street. This morning was no different except for one tiny detail. Her. His eyes locked with her's almost as soon as he pushed open the door, the small bell above jingling as the wood knocked against it. She was stood in line, eyes staring off towards the door as she waited to be served. He was instantly struck by her, giving her a smile as he pushed the door closed behind him and stepped towards her. She had dirty blonde hair that that was wavy and thick, sitting a little below her shoulders and framing her oval face. Her eyes were a seductive shade of green, accentuated my neat black eyeliner that flicked out at the edges and a subtle brown eye shadow on her lids. Her clothes told him the most about her. She was wearing a Retro Print Star Wars t-shirt that was tucked into her pale Levi jeans that were folded up at the ankles and a black, wool-lined denim jacket. He was instantly drawn to her. She wasn’t like the other women he saw here on a daily basis, tight work dresses, perfect hair and makeup with ridiculous heels that they couldn’t walk in. Not this girl, in her white converses and geeky, acid-wash t-shirt. Her eyes watched him as he came to a standstill behind her, glances and smiles being all they shared for a few moments as Marcus plucked up the courage to speak to her.

‘I like your shirt.’ He said finally, motioning to it with his chin.

‘Thanks.’ she replied, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as she gave him a warm smile.

‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ He stated, quickly glancing at the muffins to make his selection before returning his attention to her.

‘I’ve just moved here.’ She replied.

‘You’re English!’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Yeah.’ She giggled, trapping her lip between her teeth ‘Well I’m half English.’ She continued ‘Mum’s English, Dad's Canadian so basically, I’m cursed to be too nice and apologise for everything.’

He laughed at her reply, his smile reaching his eyes as they held each other's gaze for a while. It was only broken when the Barista asked for her order. Latte and a Lemon and Poppyseed Muffin. She knew exactly what coffee Marcus wanted, asking his muffin selection for the day before getting to work making their orders.

‘So are you a Star Wars fan or did you just like the shirt?’ He joked.

‘Oh no, I love it.’ She replied, laughing nervously ‘I’m a huge geek.’

‘I’ll let you in on a secret.’ He said quietly, leaning towards her slightly as she looked at him with anticipation ‘So am I.’

She laughed at that, covering her mouth in embarrassment at her sudden outburst. Her laugh was like music to Marcus’ ears, her smile addictive and he found himself wanting to see it more, hear it more. The sound of paper cups scraping against the stone countertop then pulled their attention away from each other.

‘That's Seven dollars.’ said the Barista.

‘It’s on me.’ said Marcus suddenly, handing her the money for both orders.

‘You didn’t have to do that.’ she replied as she looked at him with surprise.

‘Call it a welcoming gift.’ he stated, giving her a genuine smile before holding the door open for her.

They came to a stop outside, Marcus holding out his free hand ‘I’m Marcus.’ He said, smiling as she took it and gave it a shake.

‘Ada.’ she replied.

‘Nice to meet you, Ada.’ Smiling he glanced across the street towards his offices ‘I better get going,’ he continued.

‘Uh yeah, same.’ she replied, her smile dropping slightly at the thought of them parting ways ‘Best not be late on my first day.’

So they parted ways, giving each other a small wave before Marcus sprinted across the street and disappeared through the tinted black glass doors. From that day on, he saw her every morning. She would wait for him and they would queue together, taking it in turns to buy each other's coffee’s whilst they talked about movies, books and art. Marcus learned that she’d studied it at college back in the UK but had decided against pursuing a career in it. He learned that she was a personal assistant but that she worked remotely from her apartment around the corner. She had been engaged to a guy she’d met in college. They’d been together for almost 7 years when she was offered the job in the US and he’d told her that he didn’t want to move with her. So they had ended things, her moving a few weeks later.

‘So have you spoken to him since you arrived?’ he quizzed, sipping his coffee.

‘I spoke to him a few days ago.’ she replied, taking a bite out of her muffin ‘He’s been dating.’

‘Ouch.’

‘No, I’m happy for him.’ She replied, her tone surprisingly genuine ‘He’s never done the dating thing really. Just sort of fell into relationships… Hell, he was single 3 days before we got together.’

‘What about you?’

‘Me?’

‘Are you dating?’ He asked, his question making her choke on the coffee she’d just sipped.

‘No. Wouldn’t know where to start.’ She replied, taking another bite of her muffin and shifting in her seat.

They'd both agreed to meet in the cafe earlier that day, sit down and have breakfast for once.

‘I attract odd people.’ She continued, sipping her coffee.

‘Odd how?’

‘Well, I’m a girl… who’s a geek.’

‘Ahhh.’ He replied, understanding exactly what she meant.

‘You’re the first guy I’ve met that has been normal.’ she replied, her cheeks flushing a little ‘I don’t meet many people working from the office in my apartment either.’

‘I imagine not.’ he chuckled, giving her his signature smile that made her knees go weak.

‘Well, Marcus.’ She started, standing and throwing her coat over shoulders ‘This had been lovely but I need to get to work. Those meetings aren't going to arrange themselves.’

‘Yeah… Right.’ Replied the agent as he stood suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he knocked it back.

‘I guess I’ll see you Monday.’ she replied, giving him a small smile.

‘Well unless you’re free tonight?’ he suggested, his brown eyes ever hopeful.

‘I’m free.’ she replied, pulling her bag over her shoulder ‘What were you thinking?’

‘Dinner?’ he shrugged, giving her a small smile ‘Take you on your first date in the US.’

‘I’d like that.’ She replied, her heart racing.

‘Great! I’ll pick you up at 7?’

‘Perfect.’

He was there at seven on the dot. Ada had spent much of the afternoon panicking about what to wear, knowing that it was a date but not wanting to overdo it. She’d fallen pretty hard for Marcus, the man invading her dreams and leaving her flushed when she woke up. She looked forward to their morning talks, missing them when he was away and over the weekends. When he’d asked her out, she’d almost passed out from the excitement but somehow managed to keep her cool. As soon as her day had ended she tried to figure out what to wear, realising that she had brought very little with her. She pulled a black lace skater dress her friend Liv had given her just before she’d moved. She wore it with some grey heels and minimal jewellery. She did smokey eye makeup and a subtle pink lip stain, her hair in a loose bun with a few loose waves hanging down to frame her face. When three soft knocks sounded on her door she felt her heart in her throat, hands shaking as she grabbed her bag and keys before opening her front door. She felt her nerves melt away when she saw him. He was wearing smart jeans with a Burgundy shirt tucked in and a smart leather jacket that fit him perfectly. He beamed at her as he checked her out, feeling his own heart flutter in his chest at the sight of her.

‘You look beautiful.’ He stated, watching her as she stepped out and locked her door behind her.

‘Don’t look bad yourself.’ She replied, winking at him as they made their way down to his car.

The restaurant wasn’t far from hers and after a fair amount of convincing on her part they ended up walking instead, arms linked as they talked about each other's days.

‘Here we are.’ he stated as Ada looked up at the sign and laughed.

‘A Canadian restaurant?’

‘You told me that you were half Canadian.’ He started, smiling sweetly at her ‘A colleague of mine told me about this place the other day at work and I knew I wanted to bring you here. Is this okay?’

‘This is perfect.’ She chuckled as he opened the door for her.

The inside reminded her of Christmas’ with her grandparents in Canada. The walls we clad with wood and decorated with hockey jerseys, pictures, sticks and pucks. It was the cheesiest place she’d seen in years and she loved it.

‘I feel a tad overdressed.’ She stated, looking around at the other people in there.

‘’You look perfect.’ He replied sweetly, grinning when she got all shy.

They ordered their food which, true to Canada, was oversized and terribly unhealthy. The conversation was easy, new subjects easy to find when old ones were exhausted.

‘So you know all about my dating history.’ she said suddenly ‘I bet someone like you has had women throwing themselves at you.’ She finished as she shovelled some waffle into her mouth.

‘Hah!’ He laughed as he took a swig of his beer ‘Well… I’m divorced.’ he started, smirking when Ada’s eyes went wide ‘We were young, foolish. She cheated on me with my first partner at the FBI.’

‘What a bitch.’

‘Yeah…’ he replied, shrugging as he took another sip of his drink ‘And then last year I met an incredible woman, Teresa and fell head over heels for her. We got engaged but later that day she told me that she was in love with someone else.’

‘Oh my god, Marcus I’m so sorry.’ Ada felt a pang of guilt at the man's story ‘I shouldn’t have asked… I’m sorry.’

‘Wow you really are Canadian aren’t you.’ He smirked, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

‘Shut up.’ she laughed, swatting his arm before returning to her waffles.

As they walked home, their hands kept grazing each other’s until he trapped her hand with his. They took their time walking back, hands swinging as they enjoyed the sounds of the city together. When they finally came to a stop outside her building she spun on her heels to face him, biting her bottom lip as she gazed up into his eyes.

‘Can I confess something to you?’ She asked, her eyes drifting down to their hands ‘This is the first proper date I’ve ever been on.’

‘What?’ His head shot back in surprise ‘Really?’

‘I never did the dating thing. I kinda met people and we just ended up together.’ She replied, looking away in embarrassment.

‘So how was your first date then?’ He asked, pulling her a little closer.

‘It was pretty good.’ She replied, green eyes sparkling up at him.

‘Only pretty good?’ he asked, giving her a devilish grin ‘What would it take to make it perfect?’

‘Hmmm.’ She pondered for a moment, a cheeky grin crossing her face as she stepped closer again, her chest flush against his ‘Perhaps a goodnight kiss.’

‘Oh really?’ he grinned as he laced his fingers around the back of her head.

‘Mhmm.’ she nodded, licking her lips in anticipation as he pulled her in.

He pressed his soft lips against hers, his left hand cupping her cheek and his thumb stroking her high cheekbone. She opened her mouth to deepen it, their tongues dancing together as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. She moaned against his lips as she felt a heat forming in her core, lacing her fingers through his hair as their kiss became more heated.

‘Did you want to come up?’

‘I’d love to.’ He replied, pulling away so that he could look her in the eye.

‘But...‘

‘But this is only our first date.’ He replied, pinching her chin with his thumb and pointer finger as he kissed her again ‘Let me do this properly. No jumping into things.’

‘Are you sure you’re not Canadian?’ She joked, grinning as he kissed her again.

‘Goodnight Ada.’ He replied, giving her one last peck on the lips before watching her walk away.

They spent most of that weekend texting like teenagers. They text about what they were doing, what they were reading. They even ended up watching Empire Strikes back and talked on the phone to each other during. They then continued to talk to each other as they lay in their beds, talking about their schedules for the week and possible plans for the weekend. When they finally said goodnight they agreed to have breakfast together in their favourite little cafe in the morning. Once again the day started as it always did. They stood in line together, ordered their coffees and muffins and sat at their usual table beside the counter. The conversation, as always, was easy and relaxed. They joked about how lame they were talking on the phone in bed like two smitten teenagers. Secretly though, neither of them had wanted to hang up. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of sirens, screaming and shouting suddenly erupted in the morning air and the door of the cafe crashed open. Two masked guys came screaming in, guns waving above their heads and sending everyone into a frenzy.

‘Everyone get down!’ they shouted, pointing their guns at the customers who were crouching with their hands above their heads.

Marcus instantly switched into FBI agent mode, his right hand wrapping around his gun as looked at Ada beside him.

‘Stay down.’ he whispered as he squeezed her arm and started to stand.

‘Hey, Jackass I told everyone to get down.’ Shouted one of the men, waving his gun at him as he spoke.

‘Let these people go.’ he said, taking a step towards them.

‘Who is this guy?’

‘Dunno but he’s clearly got a death wish.’ One sniggered,

‘I’m Agent Pike.’ He started, hand still wrapped around his gun ‘I work for the FBI. If you let them go I can help you come to a peaceful solution.’

‘FBI huh?’ the leader replied, tilting his head to the side as he studied the agent across from him ‘Well you’ll be useful.’ He stated, pulling the trigger and sending Marcus stumbling backwards

‘NO!’ Ada screamed as she threw herself to his side, catching him as his legs gave out beneath him ‘Marcus…. Marcus look at me.’ she pleaded, shaking him as his eyes darted around the room in shock.

The agent rolled his head to look at her, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to suck in a pained breath. He could feel his shirt soaking quickly with the crimson lifeblood that gushed from the bullet wound to his abdomen. Ada’s shaking hands desperately tried to keep pressure on it as she held him in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. She leaned him against the counter and tore her cardigan from her shoulder, pressing it down hard on Marcus’ stomach which elicited a pained moan from the agent.

‘Well I’m sure this isn’t how you saw breakfast going.’ he joked, placing a shaky hand on hers.

‘Not exactly no.’ She replied, smiling at him grimly as she watched her cream cardigan slowly turn red.

The phone to the cafe rang and the leader answered, screaming his demands to the police on the other end.

‘You will give us what we want or the Federal Agent that’s currently bleeding out on the floor isn’t going to make it.’ he growled, shooting a look at Pike ‘You give us what we want or Agent Pike will die… You have one hour.’ he finished, slamming the handset down on the counter and storming off.

Time seemed to crawl by. Ada watched the minutes ticked by, willing time to go faster as she felt Marcus slipping away from her. Half an hour passed and his skin tone had taken on a sickly grey shade, dark bags forming under his eyes as each breath came in short, laboured pants. She watched as his eyes start to droop, panic rising inside her as his head dipped.

‘Stay with me.’ she pleaded, lifting his head so that she could look him in the eye ‘You need to stay awake.’

‘Talk to me.’ he asked, leaning into her touch.

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘’Will you go on another date with me?’ he asked suddenly, taking Ada by surprise.

‘What?’

‘I want to take you out on another date.’ he stated, giving her a weak smile.

‘Of course, I’ll go on another date with you Marcus.’ She sobbed, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

‘G-good.’ he stuttered, feeling his strength start to seep away.

‘And then afterwards I want you to stay with me.’ She continued, desperately trying to keep him with her a little longer ‘I’ll make you pancakes in the morning, I have a posh coffee machine that makes amazing coffee. Then we’ll spend all day watching old movies, eating junk food and making out.’

‘Sound’s good.’ He replied, smirking at her weakly.

Ada watched as he started to lose the fight, his lips taking on a startling shade of blue as breathing got harder and harder. A sudden cough painted his lips with blood splatters and her stomach sank. She knew the longer they waited, the less time Marcus had left. Grabbing a napkin from the counter above, she wiped the blood from his lips before placing a soft kiss on them. Marcus felt his heart flutter at the feeling of her soft lips on his, kissing her back before everything went black.

~§~

Chapter 2

#Marcus Pike #Marcus pike x original female character #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro pascal #mentalist fanfiction

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ruby-red-inky-blue · 6 years ago

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Tagged by the lovely @leaiorganas, thank you very much!

Fanfic questionnaire!

1. What was the first fandom you ever wrote fic for? BBC’s Sherlock 2. What was your very first ship? Sprotte and Fred from “Die Wilden Hühner” probably? Han/Leia was a big thing, too.

3. What fandoms have you written for, and what are your ships? BBC’s Sherlock (I didn’t focus on it, but Molly Hooper/Greg Lestrade), Doctor Who (River Song/Eleven), NCIS (Ziva David/Tony Dinozzo), The Mentalist (Teresa Lisbon/Patrick Jane), The Vampire Diaries (Katerina Petrova/Elijah Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes/Niklaus Mikaelson), Now You See Me (Henley Reeves/Daniel Atlas oh my God I wrote for that A LOT), Gossip Girl (Blair Waldorf/Chuck Bass), A Song of Ice and Fire (Sansa Stark/Petyr Baelish I know), Marvel [Captain America] (I wrote some stuff featuring Steve and Bucky, I don’t really ship it myself but I’m not saying you can’t read my fic that way either) and Star Wars (Leia Organa/Han Solo), most recently The Americans (Nina Sergeyevna Krilova/Oleg Igorevich Burov) but still very much first and foremost Rogue One (Jyn Erso/Cassian Andor)

4. What ships do you tend to gravitate to?

two troubled people who are equally lonely - usually one by virtue of actually being alone and one who feels very far removed from the people around them - who might lash out at other people but who would never intentionally hurt the other, whether they’re dating or fighting or broken up. Fiercely loyal to one another; tend to be bad at voicing their emotions but show them instead. (Often one by ridiculously grand gestures and the other in the tiny, tiny things.) Also, apparently, height difference is extremely important. [see Leia/Han, Nina/Oleg, Gaby/Illya (The Man From Uncle), Veronica/Logan (Veronica Mars) and Jyn/Cassian]

5. Current OTP(s)? Top Four: 1. Jyn/Cassian (always, always, always) 2. Nina/Oleg 3. Veronica/Logan (they’re on my mind more, but Nina/Oleg is still instant heartbreak) 4. Gaby/Illya (aka the one that doesn’t make me cry, so yay for that)

6. Former OTP(s)? Eleven/River, Tony/Ziva, Klaus/Caroline, Danny/Henley, Chuck/Blair, Sansa/Petyr (aka the ones with the silly shipnames... Tiva, Klaroline, Danley, Chair - honestly, pick the most ridiculous I dare ‘ya)

7. What do you think have been some of your best fic ideas? Even though it’s turning into a huge flaming mess of a plot, I still think The World Through a Scope was a pretty neat starting point - I mean, Rebelcaptain sharing a psychiatrist, you know? Also pretty happy with how I managed to spin my chapter for the Food Travel AU and I am so stupidly happy with my High School AU (which is not a thing I ever expected to be able to say). Also I am highkey in love with the idea of Firefly crossovers and I really want to write more. Aaaand I am so damn pleased with my ridiculous Winter Olympics AU it’s not even funny.

8. Your worst? Some plot lines in The World Through a Scope were Bad Ideas in retrospect, but alas. Also a lot of my earlier ideas weren’t... horrible in itself, but the execution oh my God

9. What kind of fic do you most love to write? Angst angst angst *lol* no but seriously I think my favourites are the really quiet ones, set in the dark at night or in the car, cuddling and angsty conversations and sleepy sweet fluff. I love those (probably because I usually write at night when I’m getting sleepy myself *lol*)

10. What do you dread writing? SMUT more than anything, tbh. And extensive action scenes, I’m bad at adrenaline-inducing excitement

12. What is a fic you would love to write one day? I really do want to write that GDR spy AU in full one day. One fine day *sigh*

13. What’s a fic you wish someone else would write? I’m a sucker for that historical AU stuff so I’d be really cool to see everyone write a Rebelcaptain fic based on some of their home country’s history. I’d loooooove that. Or another Firefly crossover. That too.

Tagging: @skitzofreak, @moonprincess92nz, @movioletta, @ladytharen, @estherlyon, @yavemiel, @thenewleeland, @rapha-writes (please feel free to ignore if you’re not feeling like it and/or have already been tagged ^^)

#about me #yay i got tagged in something #writing

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wardenparker · 2 years ago

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Starting Over - Chapter 11

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature Word Count: 14k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this fic will include divorce, past abusive relationships, deceased mothers, father issues/family trauma, unplanned pregnancy.* Cursing and food mentions, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader, discussion of divorce and adultery, *false* domestic abuse allegations, angst and anger, lots of drama. Summary: An initially unwelcome visitor turns out to be the answer to your biggest problem, but it won’t happen quietly or easily. Notes: We have one more chapter and an epilogue after this! Thank you all so, so much for coming on this journey with us 💖 This story has been such a labor of love for us and we have loved having all of you with us every week!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

On the first day this week that Amanda hasn’t been at work with you, things are a little easier and the weight on your shoulders is a little less. There have been a few enthusiastic comments about how everyone seems to like her that you have just smiled and nodded during, not wanting to be the one to point out that she’ll show her true colours soon enough. She always does. But for now, you’re out on the sales floor with your team, fluffing pillows and straightening in between helping customers and assisting with customer service issues. It’s just a normal day and thank god for that.

Walking into the store, Andrew Packard looks around, taking in the scene. It hadn’t been hard to get a complete background history on you and where you work. He even has a recent picture, so he knows what you look like. His heart hurts, knowing he might not have ever known beyond social media since his son wants nothing to do with him. However, he wants to know you. To meet you without prejudice and he needs to help Marcus get out of this mess. Several people look up, but he spots you and starts making his way towards where you are fiddling with displays without being too obvious that you are his target.

“Is there anything I can help you with today, sir?” There’s something familiar about the tall older man with the salt-and-pepper hair that you can’t quite put your finger on, so you brush it away and give him a beaming smile. He’s probably just an infrequent repeat customer or he loosely resembles some actor on a tv show. Either way, you slide the pillow that was in your hands back onto the shelf and turn to give him your full attention.

In person, Andrew is immediately aware of what had drawn his son in. You – despite being perfectly professional – radiate warmth and kindness. It’s not just an act for you. Nearly sixty-five years on this earth and most of it working to maintain a changing company, he’s well versed in reading people. “Yes, I—” He gives a look around the store. “I am looking for a wedding present.” He decides.

“Oh, fantastic!” Fiddling with your own engagement ring a little makes your smile grow, and you’re still trying to figure out why this man looks so familiar to you. “Does the couple have a registry with us? If they don’t that’s okay, I’m just going to ask you a few questions about them instead.” After years and years with the company, you’re fairly decent at reading relationships from your customers, and this guy feels like an emotionally distant relative if ever there was one. Probably a workaholic. He’ll either be stingy because he doesn’t know them well or overspend out of guilt - you just can’t tell which yet.

“I don’t actually know.” Andrew admits, reaching up and scrubbing at the back of his neck. He’s not dressed in his normal business suits, having decided that this would be better as a causal thing, and it’s almost as if he’s missing a vital piece of armor. “I must admit that I don’t have the closest relationship with them.”

“That’s okay.” Nailed it, you give yourself a mental pat on the back and give your customer an encouraging nod. “Do you prefer to give functional gifts or indulgent ones?” Leading him toward the housewares department, you’re fairly confident that you can help this guy pick out a nice gift with ease. You’ve done it hundreds of times before, after all.

“Functionally indulgent?” Andrew jokes, enjoying the way that you are treating him as if he were no different from anyone else. Something that would not happen if you knew his name, he is sure. “Something that they wouldn’t be able to just throw away.”

“Sounds like some quality cookware or maybe a machine?” You wonder if he has any idea at all if this couple he’s buying for cooks for fun. “Not just a set of champagne glasses that will sit in the cupboard.”

“Machine.” Andrew decides. “Something that someone would want and not buy for themselves?” He turns to you. “What would you want but never buy for yourself?”

It’s actually a question that you get more often than one would think. Customers use you and your coworkers as sounding boards for their ideas and ask for your advice all the time. Sometimes you’re dead honest about it, sometimes you’ll point people towards your favourite gadget, and sometimes you try to steer the customer toward an ‘old reliable’ style purchase. Nobody ever got mad at getting a KitchenAid mixer as a wedding gift, right? There’s something about this particular man that edges you toward dead honesty, though, and you chuckle a little. “For me personally? I’ve worked here long enough to have bought myself most of the kitchen toys that I truly want,” you admit. “The thing that’s been calling my name lately and that I think I’m going to start saving my pennies for, is one of our new pizza ovens. I just can’t think of anything more fun than turning pizza night into something fun and personal, especially if you’ve got a growing family.” If it sounds like a sales pitch, it’s only because you’ve been hyping yourself up for a few weeks now. The price tag on these suckers is extremely high but you know that you and Marcus would love it.

“Really?” Andrew raises a brow and is impressed by the way you pitch it. “Would you show me the one you are saving for? I’m sure you want the one with all the bells and whistles.”

“It’s actually kind of basic.” The outdoor entertaining and barbecue display on your sales floor is fairly big considering you’re in Texas and people cook outside all year long, but you show him the specific display with the pizza oven set up to be inspected by curious customers and all the various manufacturer-branded accoutrements like a cookbook, pizza peel, digital thermometer, and heavy duty pot holders. “My fiancé and I like to cook together, and pizza is definitely one of our favourites.” Even talking about Marcus to a perfect stranger makes you beam a little, and your thumb moves to play with your engagement ring again unconsciously. “And you can see from the price tag that it is a bit of a splurge. But this is top of the line.”

Andrew softens at that tiny morsel of information. It’s nice to know that his love of pizza had never waned. “That’s nice that you enjoy cooking together.” He hums, and nods. “Will you show me a bit about this?”

“Oh, of course!” The ins and outs of the machine are fairly easy to explain, and you end up pulling out the cookbook to show your curious customer a few recipes that you’ve been particularly enamored with and then getting into other things you can cook in a pizza oven besides just pizza. “We made this dip last week,” you flip open the book to the desserts section where it displays a very basic recipe for a cast iron skillet full of chocolate and peanut butter then covered in a layer of marshmallows, meant to be eaten with pretzels or Graham crackers. “We made it in our standard oven so of course it took longer than doing it in the pizza oven, but it was amazing.” Sharing personal stories is part of how you make your biggest sales, you’ll never deny that, and it’s been effortless since you met Marcus. Anything he loves, you’re more than happy to talk about.

“For you or for your fiancé?” He asks with a grin, remembering the times he wound take Marcus to the beach and build a fire in the sand to make s’mores. Back before he started to hate Andrew, of course.

“We’re both s’mores addicts.” You admit with a laugh. “It’s nice to have simple things to share.” The Pike-ette had also appreciated it, seemingly forgoing your usual bout of nighttime morning sickness as a thank you for chocolate and peanut butter.

Andrew smiles, not mentioning how you have reaches down to stroke your belly several times. It was an action that Marcus’s mother had frequently done while she was carrying him. It makes his heart clench, remembering the amazing woman that he had honestly loved. He knows Marcus doesn’t believe that, but he had. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth myself.” He admits. “Stuffing strawberries with chocolate and dipping into the marshmallow stuff before roasting is my favorite.”

“That sounds amazing.” Your eyes widen almost comically before you can catch yourself. “I, uh…” it really does make you laugh, the way you nearly groaned at the sound of it, and you shrug. “Chocolate has been a pregnancy craving. I’m lucky it’s nothing too weird. But that sounds fantastic.”

Andrew pretends surprise, glancing down at your stomach, the one holding his grandchild and beams. “Congratulations.” He murmurs. “My wife –” he’s not talking about the woman he’s been married to, but Marcus’s mother, “she craved sweet and salty.” He laughs. “There was one day she wanted soft pretzels dipped in chocolate!”

“She’s a very smart woman.” Nodding sagely makes you grin again, and you glance down at your own belly under your loose shirt. You’ve gotten a little off point with this customer but that’s okay, it happens from time to time. “Don’t mind me. It’s new, still, so I get a little excited. Did you have any other questions about the oven, or want to take a look at other gift options?”

“No, I think that this is it.” Andrew tells you with a smile, happy to have gotten a chance to talk to you like this.

------

Marcus opens the door to the store, frazzled and honestly upset. Doing his best not to show it, he walks up to the counter and asks the associate there, someone that he remembers seeing a few times in here before, to page you.

The voice in your ear is very clear, snapping you back into reality with a harsh kick to your backside. It had been such a nice day before now. ’Hey boss, your fiancé is here and he looks upset’. You turn to your customer with a forced smile. “I’m sorry, would you excuse me for just a moment? I’m being paged, but I will have that pizza oven brought to the front counter for you. Excuse me.” You don’t even wait for him to reply, just turn and make the least frantic-looking dash to the front counter that you can manage. Marcus looks more upset than you think you’ve ever seen, and your arms go around him instantly. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Marcus nearly cries when he sees you, reaching out and holding tight to you, as if you are his life preserver in a roiling ocean. “I— I’ve been sent home.” He murmurs in your ear. “Pending an internal investigation into accusations of domestic violence.” Turning in his gun and badge to the sympathetic but resolute director had been humiliating and soul crushing.

“What?!” You reel backward, searching his face for any trace that this is some kind of horrible joke. This has Amanda’s vengeance written all over it, you just can’t figure out how she intends to make those accusations stick. “That’s completely insane. Oh my— Jesus, baby, I’m so sorry.” You cling to him in that moment, willing yourself not to get angry on the sales floor in view of dozens of other people. “She’s not here, but I don’t know if she’s at home. Do you want to sit at my desk for a little while? I can see if I can leave early since I’m not the only manager here.”

His eyes close and he gives a pathetic nod, knowing that if she is there, he might actually do what she accused him of. “I—” his eyes open and shift behind you, his face immediately turning into a scowl. “What the hell is he doing here?” He demands, dropping his hands from your waist and stepping back.

“Who?” He is instantly on his guard again and you look behind you to follow his eyes but only find your customer standing a few feet away. “I was just working with a customer…?”

“Marcus, I—” Andrew steps forward, knowing that this could very well be the worst thing that could have happened, especially since he knows that particular look on his son’s face.

Marcus gives a small, dry chuckle. “That’s not a customer.” He tells you. “That, unfortunately, is my father.”

“Shit.” Shutting your eyes is more of an act of resignation than anything else, chastising yourself for being chatty and offering up information about your life to a stranger. Normally it’s a great way to make a sale. Today? Today it accidentally gave too much away, you fear. “I didn’t know,” you murmur to Marcus, just praying he believes you. You had never bothered to look up Andrew Packard’s photo. Why would you, when Marcus wants nothing to do with him? “You two, come with me.” Though you can’t bring them both back to your office - company rules - you can certainly force them back into your store’s habitually abandoned bath section so as not to be overheard.

Marcus follows, back straight and Andrew sighs before he too, follows. He had hoped this wouldn’t happen, but now there was nothing else to be done but face the music.

“You looked me up, I take it?” The question for Andrew is maybe harsher than it deserves, but considering the way he was just playing the jolly stranger with you, you’re not feeling to excited about meeting the man who is technically your father-in-law. “Did morbid curiosity bring you out from California?”

“No.” Andrew shakes his head and reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I came because of the disturbing conversation and texts I received from Amanda.” He admits, opening the phone and handing it to you. “Deciding to meet you without you knowing who I was is wrong, but I wanted to see an unguarded version of the woman my son loves.”

“I hope it was worth it.” None too pleased with being deceived, you look down at the army of text messages he had received from Amanda for the last few days and have to appreciate his curt replies. As little love as Marcus has for his father - understandably - it’s clear that Andrew Packard isn’t mucking around in Amanda’s bullshit. “Shit…” The pictures are what get to you, and you hand the phone to Marcus. “When she left the house on Monday night, I guess she was busy learning how to give herself make-up bruises.”

Marcus looks at the photos that had been send to his father and blanches, instantly knowing that this issue just got even worse. “I swear I never—”

“If I know one thing,” Andrew interrupts Marcus. “It’s that my son did not put bruises on that woman.” He hesitates for a moment but reaches out and clasps Marcus’s shoulder. “You aren’t that kind of man.”

“I’m going to take a half a vacation day so we can go home and figure out what to do about all of this.” Looking between the two men, it’s a little startling that you didn’t recognize the resemblance before. Marcus has his father’s profile and hair almost exactly. “If I leave you two alone for a few minutes to speak to my manager, do you promise to behave?” The question is really more for his father, you know Marcus would never cause a fuss in your store.

Andrew is slightly insulted by the question, but he nods. “I’m here to help get this witch out of your hair.” He promises you and Marcus. He’s done his research and spoken with his lawyers.

“I’ll be right back.” Reaching to squeeze Marcus’s hand tightly, you offer him the most reassuring smile that you can and hustle for the Employees Only door that leads to your office. Though your manager isn’t pleased about losing coverage, he agrees to let you go for the rest of the day using a little vacation time and you grab your things from your desk before bolting back out to the sales floor. Marcus and his father are right where you left them, barely speaking but occasionally nodding to one another. “Okay.” You slip your arm around Marcus’s waist when you reappear. “Let’s go home.”

Marcus turns to his father. “Did you rent a car or have someone bring you from the airport?” He asks, honestly unsure of why he is here. He didn’t ask for him to come and he doesn’t know how he could possibly help unless he offers to pay Amanda off and he’s not going to let him do that.

“I rented a car,” Andrew smooths one hand down his shirt before stuffing it in his pocket. Without his suit as armor and here with his son, he would never admit it out loud, but he feels a little insecure. “And already checked into a hotel. I didn’t think you would want me staying with you.”

“At this point I would welcome it if it meant Amanda wasn’t in my spare room.” Marcus huffs, his hand on your back as he starts guiding you towards the door.

“Let’s see if we can’t achieve that for you.” He offers, knowing full well that his son will be skeptical of any help he intends to provide. At this point, though, it’s very clear that Marcus needs someone with a bit more bite in his corner.

“You might as well know, since you are here, that Amanda contacted the FBI too.” Marcus tells Andrew as the three of you leave the store and start walking out to the parking lot. “What she doesn’t know is that I’ve got cameras in the house. So, the entire thing was on video.”

“You’ve been recording your home?” Andrew looks suitably impressed, not having thought that Marcus would go that far to gather evidence. But it’s a good thing that he has. “This might be less difficult than I thought, if you have footage of whatever happened at home during the time she claims you hit her.”

“I do.” Marcus nods and he sighs, tugging you just a bit closer to him, his hand tightening his hold on you. “Plus, evidence where she threatened to kill my pregnant girlfriend on the stairs.” He hadn’t said anything to you, but he had been enraged when he watched the video. It had taken every ounce of undercover training not to reveal that he knew that.

“I—” You sigh, looking down at your feet as you cross the pavement as you walk. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to worry. She was just extra pissy because we were about to leave for the trip and I…” Taking a deep breath, you shake your head in resignation. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Marcus leans in and kisses your cheek. “I just hate the thought of her trying something.” He had turned the video over to his lawyers but hadn’t heard anything about it yet.

“We’re okay.” That’s something you can promise him absolutely. You and the baby are just fine, aside from the stress of Amanda’s brand-new accusations. “Looks like we’ll have a little caravan,” you observe, seeing Marcus’s car parked beside yours in the lot and Andrew pulling out a key that clearly matches the luxury SUV parked two spaces over.

“Amanda is at the house.” Marcus groans, rolling his eyes. “Are we— what is our plan?” He’s talking to you, but he’s also curious as to why his father is here. At this point, he’s just exhausted and unwilling to fight.

“We can go to my old place.” Naomi insisted that you keep your key for emergencies, and Marcus had made her one for his place for the same reason. “Just so we can have a chance to make a plan before dealing with her?”

Marcus nods and looks over at his father. “I’m sure you have the address.” He tells the older man before he opens the door for you to get into your car.

“I’ll text Naomi that we’re taking over her living room.” Leaning over the car door, you give Marcus a quick kiss before getting behind the wheel. Your best friend and her now live-in boyfriend are both at work, so you won’t be interrupting anyone. It’s just good that you have somewhere else to talk.

Marcus closes the door and turns to look at his dad for a moment. Wanting to say something and even opening his mouth before he shakes his head and turns to go get into his own car.

“I really am here to help, Marcus.” Andrew places his hand on his son’s car door, hoping the younger man won’t just slam his fingers unrepentantly. “I know asking for your trust is a lot, but you’re still my son.” Even as much as Marcus despises that fact, it is true. “Will you give me the benefit of the doubt just for a little while?”

Marcus wants to, just for a moment. But instead he snorts. “Andrew, the last benefit of a doubt I gave you was the day that you told me that it would be easier to pay someone to live with me after my mother died.” His jaw clenches and he shakes his head. “So please forgive me if I don’t exactly trust your version of ‘help’.”

“I have a lot to make up for, Marcus.” He knows that. He feels it in his bones every day, and the older he gets the more he aches with it. “I know that. That’s why I’m here. If—” He sighs, a gruff sound despite himself. “If not for you, then just hear me out for your child’s sake.”

“I’ll be honest,” Marcus knows that you are watching the tense exchange, but he wants to let the man who sired him know exactly where he stands. “The only reason I’m willing to even entertain you being here is because I don’t want the woman I love giving birth to my child before I can marry her.”

“I know that.” Andrew doesn’t doubt that the hatred Marcus has for the way he was raised has informed a great many of his choices when it comes to you, and he nods solemnly. “I know that’s what you want, and I really am trying to help you achieve it. Otherwise I would have just told Amanda to stop contacting me and kept my nose out of it.”

“I’m honestly surprised you cared enough to come.” He admits. “Business trip?” There is a bite of animosity in the question, the excuse he used when he was with them and away from his ‘real family’.

Andrew sighs, knowing he deserves the question, but squares his shoulders as he shakes his head. “No.” He tells his son flatly. “I told your stepmother exactly where I was going and why.” The shock on Marcus’s face is immediate, and warranted, and Andrew just nods again. “I have a lot to make up for, Marcus. I know that. But I do want to try.”

He couldn’t say anything if he wanted to. Instead, he just nods at his father and gets into his car. Honestly not sure if the damage that had been done years ago could ever be repaired, but there was a more pressing matter to deal with right now.

Once you’re back at the house, you could nearly cry out of sheer relief to see Amanda’s car absent from the driveway. Whatever she’s doing on her day off, she’s not at home and that is going to make things much easier. You and Marcus pull your cars into the garage leaving Andrew to park in the driveway, and you envelope your fiancé in the biggest, tightest hug when you both climb out of your cars behind the closed garage door.

“I can’t believe he is here.” Marcus would never admit it to Andrew, but he’s nervous. Nervous that the life he’s built with you will be looked down on by the man who he had been at odds with for so long.

“He seems to actually want to help.” You could hear what they were saying to each other even with your car door closed and to an outside observer – not knowing their dynamic more intimately – it seemed encouraging. “Maybe we can hear him out? Just listen to what he has to say?”

Marcus blows a raspberry and sighs. “I can’t make any promises.” He murmurs, hugging you tightly before letting you go. “He’s spent years perfecting the art of lying.”

“I know.” Nodding against his chest, you leave a kiss over Marcus’s heart. “But I think we might need all the help we can get.”

“I just – domestic violence?” He sounds shocked, bewildered. Because he is. “Why does she hate me so much?”

“You have something she wants.” Unfortunately, it really is that simple. As disgusting as it is. “Apparently there really is no low she won’t stoop to.”

“I hate her.” Marcus admits quietly, voicing that for the first time ever. “I think I hate her worse than – than anyone. Ever.”

“I do, too.” Giving him another tight hug, you lean back and look him in the eyes. “But we are going to get through this. You’re going to be able to go back to work with your head held high, I’m going to get her the hell out of my store, and she’s going to go back to Portland with her tail between her legs and nothing to show for her efforts but a whole lot of wasted time and money. We are going to be okay.” You’re not sure how, but you know that what you aren’t willing to do is give up.

He wants to believe that. “We better get inside and open the door for Andrew.” He tells you. “Find out what he thinks he can do.”

Marcus’s home is small by the standards Andrew is used to, but the condominium is well decorated and neatly furnished with a feminine touch that he can only assume is yours. The art on the walls, though, he knows Marcus must have chosen. It stung when his son had elected not to pursue the family business, but at the time he had been convinced that the boy’s madness was temporary and that he would come around. Now, however? Now he looked for Special Agent Marcus Pike’s name in police reports and federal cases with pride. Not that his son would ever believe it if he said so. “You’ve made a house a home.” He observes, looking around the living room after you let him inside. “It’s very nice.”

“All her doing.” Marcus will readily admit. “She helped me pick out everything. Best furniture shopping day of my life.” There is that stupid, small surge of pride when it receives the Andrew Packard seal of approval. Marcus hates that he likes it so much.

“Best day of my life, period.” You beam at Marcus from across the room, already headed to the kitchen to grab drinks for everyone. “Except for maybe the day you proposed. That one might take first place now.”

“Then it will the day we get married.” Marcus predicts. “And the birth of the Pike-ette.”

“Pike-ette?” Andrew’s head cocks in amusement from where he had been inspecting a framed photo of the two of you on the wall.

“It’s our nickname for the baby.” Since Marcus is the one who mentioned it first, you don’t see any real harm in explaining its meaning. “Lemonade okay for everyone?”

“That’s perfect.” Andrew doesn’t say that you shouldn’t bother, it would be ignored as it seems you like to entertain. “Thank you.”

Reappearing a moment later with a pitcher of the raspberry lemonade from the Chestnut House Inn and three glasses on a tray, you set them down on the coffee table in the middle of the living room and nervously smooth your sweaty palms down your sides in an attempt to be discreet.

“Do you know the sex yet?” Andrew asks, nodding slightly toward your middle. The shirt you’re wearing hides any little bit that you might be showing, but he can’t for the life of him remember how far along you have to be before you can find out. He might not have ever known, come to think of it.

“Not yet.” You pour out a glass for each of you before you sit back with your drink in hand. “We have a few more weeks to go before we can find out for sure.” The name list definitely doesn’t reflect that, though. You and Marcus walked away from your weekend in DC with some new favourites.

“Do you know why Amanda contacted you?” Marcus asks, jumping right into the meat of one of his larger questions. “Did she ask for money to go away? Because I don’t want you to give her a dime.”

"The only thing I plan on giving her is a ride to the airport to get her out of your hair." Obviously the time for small talk is over, but Andrew appreciates the fact that you are willing to give him any kind of morsel of information about your lives. The fact that he has not been there for so much of Marcus's life is a source of not inconsiderable shame as he gets older. "She contacted me for sympathy. She intends to make an ally of me, thinking I might take her side when the divorce goes to court." He shrugs his shoulders a little and clasps his hands in his lap as he sits in the armchair across from the couch. "Which will never happen."

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Marcus snorts, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. “I want to know why the lawyers are dragging their feet.” He huffs. “I’ve given them days of video from the house.”

"I have every intention of having her packed and on her way back to Portland by the time I leave." There isn't likely to be much more of a welcome for him in this house than there has been for the first Mrs. Marcus Pike, and Andrew knows that. Sitting back in the comfortable chair, he surveys the two of you for a moment before directing his attention at Marcus. "What she wants is the trust. We know this. She hasn't exactly been coy about it. But what neither you nor she knew before now is that that trust is what is called a revocable living trust. It is not simply something that I set up when you were born and put money into to forget that it existed." He softens slightly when Marcus doesn't bite back at him. "It is a living and growing entity. I have added to it over the years. Possessions and heirlooms as well as money. Some of...some of your mother's things, as well as a few Packard family pieces that I wanted to make sure went to your family. But because of the nature of a living trust, it also means that I – as the grantor – can change the parameters of the trust. In other words, I can make sure the trust is iron-clad against Amanda."

“I— why didn’t I know that?” Marcus chokes out after a moment, shocked that Andrew had been adding to it. And that there were some of his mother’s things in trust. “I thought you got rid of her things.” He admits quietly. When he had come back to visit from his first semester of college, there had been a strange family living in the house he had grown up in. He had assumed his father had sold the house. He had gone back to his college apartment and never really spoken about it. Just denying any visit Andrew had wanted to make.

"If I told you honestly that losing your mother hurt too much to talk about for many years, would you actually believe me?" He knows what his son thinks of him, and decades of retrospect have forced him to admit that he deserves some degree of the treatment that he has been given. "I know that I handled things poorly, but the things she loved and treasured most were kept for you. They're in an atmosphere and temperature controlled storage pod in California that you'll be given access to soon. It can just be shipped here if that's what you want. You don't have to come out there or see me again to have it all."

“You were good to her.” Marcus begrudgingly admits. His mother had died believing that Andrew had loved her, despite Marcus’s belief to the contrary.

"She was the love of my life." He admits that freely now, and can only hope that Marcus believes it. Andrew Packard has never been a man who believes in tears or sentimentality when it comes to most of his life, but change is inescapable. He just wishes the change had been sooner, and for the better. "And I regret the way I handled everything. Especially when it comes to you."

There is a bitterness to Marcus’s smile, a small huff of amazement. “You mean that it’s not a good idea to basically abandon a teenager who just lost their only stable parent to live by themselves with someone you paid because it was more convenient for you?” Okay, it might have come out extremely sarcastic, but right now, he doesn’t care. Andrew might have loved his mother, but he hadn’t shown Marcus much compassion after she had died.

"Marcus, I don't expect you to forgive me." Though it's what he wants – what he wishes for – he doesn't consider it a realistic option. There are too many years' worth of bad blood, and Marcus inherited Andrew's stubbornness. "But I am the person who can fix this for you, if you let me."

“God, you can never just admit that you were wrong.” Marcus shakes his head. “It’s ‘I regret the way I handled things’ or ‘there is a reason I did that’. Never just saying ‘sorry, I fucked up’.” Marcus holds his hand up and stops Andrew when he goes to say something. “How does dear ol’ dad plan on fixing things for me? Do tell.”

"Goddamnit, Marcus, I was wrong." Andrew shakes his head, not having wanted to cause an argument in front of his son's pregnant fiancée. There seems to be no way to avoid it, though, and he wipes one hand down his face like it might do anything at all to calm him. "I'm a miserable old man with three children who despise me and a wife who prevented me from marrying the woman I loved because of money, and I don't want you to turn out like me!"

“You could have divorced her.” Marcus scoffs, leaning in and narrowing his eyes. “Like I’m desperately trying to do so I can marry the woman I love. But you didn’t. You treated us like the dirty little secrets we were. Only to be given attention when your real family could spare the time!” The news that his father’s daughters wanted nothing to do with Andrew surprised him. He had never viewed them as sisters, but they had always been the golden heirs to the Packard empire and treated as such.

"I signed a prenup." Back then it hadn't been something anyone talked about. It was business only, when he had agreed to marry the wealthy socialite who would provide him the opportunities, finances, and place in society that he needed to get his business really moving. Andrew exhales deeply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before going on so he doesn't shout. "The new technology that our company was working on was built on Jeannie's father's designs. If I divorced her, I lost everything that I had ever worked toward. The entire future of the Packard brand." He pauses again, trying to pretend he doesn't see the way you're staring at him in shock. "There was...there was a clause in the agreement that allowed Jeannie and me each one affair. Whatever children came from the affair would be taken care of. Provided for. I could give your mother money and put a roof over your head and food on your table, but if I tried to divorce Jeannie it would all be gone. I—” It makes him ache, the decision that he made, but he can't undo it now. It's far too late for that. "I should have done it anyway. I should have left and rebuilt my life with you and your mother. But I was afraid, and I made the wrong decision." When he looks at Marcus again, it's all he can do not to choke on the words. "I was wrong, Marcus. And I don't expect you to forgive me. Or even believe how sorry I am. But if I could take back the decisions I made, I would."

Marcus is struck dumb for a moment. Learning things that he had never known, information he had never been privy to. Information that might have helped him see his father in a different light. Or at least eased some of the anger he had towards him. “And when mom died?” He whispers. “Living with you wasn’t an option? Because of the agreement?” Being abandoned after her death had really been the nail in the coffin. He hadn’t really cared for his father beforehand, but that act had cemented the idea that Marcus was just a byproduct of an affair and not really important to Andrew for him.

"It would have been a violation of the prenup." Andrew nods slowly, glad to see Marcus is actually absorbing the information instead of letting it wash over him as another thing out of his father's mouth to be ignored. "Jeannie has a third daughter living in New York. She's...a lawyer, I think. The father was one of my business associates for many years, and I held my tongue because the same rules that let them sneak off on their business trips also let me take time away to see you and your mother."

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Marcus climbs to his feet and paces around a small area in front of the coffee table. “And mom – she – she knew about all of this, didn’t she?” He asks his father, looking over at him as he paces with his hand on his hip and his other rubbing his temple.

"We agreed that it was too complicated to explain to you when you were younger." He huffs a little at that, rubbing the side of his head in exactly the same way as his son without realizing it. "She wanted to protect you, and I wanted to protect myself. She—would joke that she was too good for me, and that was why I couldn't leave Jeannie." Even the smallest memory is enough to have him choked up now, but he shakes it away.

“You should have told me.” Marcus declares. “Especially after—” he shakes his head, remembering all the hateful things he had said, thought about this man. “After I didn’t want to see you anymore.”

"Yes. I should have." He can agree to that, at the very least. "And I'm sorry that I didn't."

“Jesus.” Marcus closes his eyes, biting his lip as he feels his own guilt welling up. “I owe you an apology.” He’s enough of an adult, and nuanced enough to understand that the situation had been far more complicated than a rich man keeping a mistress and a bastard child on the side of his perfect family. He was a man who admitted his mistakes. Opening his eyes, they lock onto his father. “I’m sorry.”

Locked in silence on the sofa, you can only watch as Andrew Packard puts his hand out to his only son, only for Marcus to actually take a step forward to hug his father. You don't actually know if they've ever shared a moment before – surely it hasn't been since Marcus was a child if they ever have.

"You had every right to be angry." Andrew murmurs, one hand gently patting Marcus's shoulder as the two men separate. "But I'm here now to help. Hopefully you can believe that now."

Marcus takes a moment, emotions thick but he nods. “I- what are you going to do?” He asks gently. “What can you do?”

"I can change the wording of the beneficiary of the trust." When the two men sit back down, Andrew picks up his glass of lemonade, glad for the chance to do anything other than cry in front of his grown child. "Instead of simply saying that it is payable to you upon such and such conditions, I can tie it up so that it is payable to both you and your fiancée specifically – using her legal name, of course – upon the birth of your first child. And that any attempt to distribute the contents of the trust to anyone besides the two of you and your child will result in the immediate dissolvement of the trust. Of course, it means you literally cannot use the money for anything except yourselves and your family, but that's a problem for another time."

Marcus immediately frowns, his immediate refusal on the tip of his tongue. The insistence that he would never use the money ingrained in him. Instead, he bites off the urge and turns to you, wanting your input. “Babe?” He asks before he turns back to his father. “What is the trust worth?” He asks, never having paid too much attention to it at all and the idea that his father had kept adding to it make him wonder.

"Currently?" Andrew flips open an app on his phone and hums for a moment while something loads before looking back up at his son. "A little less than thirty-five million, plus your mother's things and a few family heirlooms that probably add up to another two or so million between them."

"Jesus." You shake your head a little. Absorbing everything has been a little bit of a hustle, but you're keeping up as best you can. "If you tie the trust up like this, can we still use it for things like buying a house or putting the kids through school? I mean that's what it was originally intended for, right?"

"Correct." Andrew nods, glad to see that you're sharp enough to keep up. "You'll be able to use it to make payments by cashing assets or moving funds into your personal account, and then using it as you see fit. But you will not be able to do things like sign a portion of the assets over to say...your child's spouse when they marry. You would have to set up an entirely separate trust for that."

Marcus swallows and searches his father’s face. “Why— why do you want me to have Packard heirlooms?” He asks. “I’m not a Packard. Shouldn’t they belong to your daughters?” He’s not trying to be cruel; he’s wanting to know why it’s important he receive those things.

"There are plenty of things that went to your sisters." He knows that Marcus has never thought of Elaine and Ariella as family, but they are. They are his blood, if only by half. "But despite the fact that I could not give you my name, you are a Packard by blood. And there are some things that I wanted you to have for that reason." There is a list, of course, all things like this have very detailed lists. "In your case, there are a few paintings, a few pieces of jewelry, and a furnished house."

“A house?” Marcus looks over at you and sees how wide your eyes have gotten. He doesn’t know why that surprises him, but it does.

"If you choose to sell it, that's up to you." He can't quite admit that it would break his heart a little, but given the strain in his relationship with Marcus, he would understand if the sentimentality meant little to him. "But when you decided to go into the FBI, I added it to your assets. A home already waiting for you in Washington seemed helpful." He sips his drink again, actually finding that he likes it and isn't just drinking it to be polite. "It's the house I grew up in. Your grandfather bought it from the original owners in the 1930s and I've been renting it to a family for the last ten years or so. Their youngest is in college now and I doubt they'll want to stay much longer."

Marcus can’t help but laugh. “She wants to go to Washington.” He tells his father, pointing at you. “I proposed there.” It’s oddly touching that he had been given consideration and well, a house in Washington. It would help if he did transfer there.

"Oh?" Andrew raises an eyebrow at you.

"I—" You fluster slightly, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. "It's my favourite place," you admit with a shrug. "I went to college there and there's this inn I love, and...and that's there Marcus took me last weekend. They made us a picnic and he proposed on the Mall."

"Well," Andrew can't help but smile. "I hope you choose not to sell, then. It's in Georgetown. I can— I can have the trustees send over photos of the house, if you want."

Marcus nods. “For now, we are here in Austin, but I have a feeling D.C. will be our home before too long.” He admits with an indulgent smile towards you.

"Does this mean that you're willing to let me help, then?" In his view, it would be foolish and stubborn not to accept his offer to change the terms of the trust – and technically Marcus couldn't stop Andrew if this is what he decided to do. But Andrew Packard had promised himself that he was done bullying and steamrolling his son.

Marcus sighs, reaching for your hand. The little squeeze of encouragement is all he needs before he’s looking back at his father. “Yes.” Marcus nods. “I would appreciate your help.” He bites his lip. “Dad.”

Leaning over, you press a kiss to Marcus's cheek and rest your head temporarily on his shoulder before you blow out a sigh. "I can't believe there's an end in sight."

"Oh, I think it will be a very quick ending." Andrew nods to Marcus, well aware of the haze in his eyes at actually having his grown son call him Dad without sarcasm. "I'll be happy to sign a statement for the Bureau swearing absolute knowledge that the domestic violence allegations are false, if Amanda retracting her accusation isn't good enough on its own."

“That won’t be necessary.” Marcus shakes his head, knowing that there is no way that Andrew would honestly know that. “I have all of the video. It’s not pretty, but the only thing I did was yell and throw a cup at a wall. Nowhere near her. And it has audio.”

“Good, then.” Andrew blows out a breath with the air of a man who has had the weight of the world lifted from one shoulder but the woes of a lifetime still pressing on the other. “I’ll call the trustees and have the wording updated immediately.”

“We’ll give you some privacy.” It’s not as though the condo has an office or study you can let him use, so you nod to Marcus in the direction of the kitchen, thinking he might need a chance to breathe as well. The last hour has given him a hell of a lot to think about.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Marcus stands and quickly follows you to the kitchen and the moment he’s out of sight from his father, his knees nearly buckle as he sags against the counter. “Fuck.” He manages.

“How are you holding up, baby?” Your arms are around him instantly, encouraging him to use you for support and comfort as much as he possibly can. The man just had his entire perception of his father knocked on its axis and it can’t be easy to handle.

“I— I don’t know.” He admits, burying his face in your neck and closing his eyes. His breathing is labored and almost panicked. “I— he – it was –” He chokes out a sob and the tears that he had held back since he was a boy, the hurt and the pain at feeling unimportant by the man who had fathered him comes pouring out.

“Oh, honey…” It’s all you can really do not to cry with him, with the volatility of the moment so pervasive in the air. But you gently rub one hand in circles on his back, softly encouraging him to let all of it out. “That was…a lot of information…”

Marcus isn’t ashamed to cry. He’s never been one to believe that to ‘be a man’ meant that he couldn’t express real emotions. He knows that it’s healthy. Right now he’s crying for himself - all the anger and hate he had carried for Andrew, for his mom - who had loved a man who was caught in a situation with no good ending. For his dad - who had loved them and been unable to fully show it. “I— I d-d-didn’t know.”

“I know, love.” With one hand traveling in his back, your other holds him tight against you while he lets out every ounce of frustration and confusion he has. “You couldn’t have.”

Several more long minutes go by until the tears slow down and stop. Your shirt is soaked, but he knows you don’t care. Quieting down and finally just clinging to you, Marcus reevaluates his life, his entire perspective and knows that you are what is keeping him from going insane right now.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Now, more than ever, you can honestly say that with confidence. There is a reason to say it. And even though the source is highly unlikely, you aren’t worried that it will fall through or backfire. This is Marcus’s father atoning for his own sins, and if that is what it takes to end this nightmare, you welcome it.

“I was starting to worry.” Marcus admits with a harsh chuckle. “Was afraid that it wouldn’t happen before you were giving birth.”

“I, um…” Wiping his damp cheeks, you press a kiss to Marcus’s forehead and shrug, like you’re not sure what else to say. “I think he’s at least earned himself an invitation to the wedding, don’t you?” Even if things are never more than polite between him and his father, you would hate for there to never be an olive branch.

Marcus huffs out a laugh and leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah.” He breathes out. “I think he can come to the wedding.”

“I’m so glad that some of your mother’s things were saved.” A kiss to his cheek this time, as the last of his tears dry and he starts to breathe normally again. You fully understand how precious his mother was to him, and to not have lost all of those memories of her is an unlooked for blessing.

“I am too.” He admits softly. “I always regretted not taking the photo albums with me when I went to college.”

“We should ask if they’re in storage.” Andrew had been vague on which things belonging to Marcus’s mother were included in the trust, and you don’t want Marcus to be disappointed if something isn’t there.

“We can do that.” Marcus nods, imagining being able to see pictures of his mom again. He had only had a few that he had brought with him when he had left. They were precious to him, but only wallet sized.

“I love you.” Whispered as it is, just for him, it still lights you up in a way that nothing else really does. “I’m so sorry that today has been hard – that the last few months have been hard – but I love you and everything’s going to be okay.”

“I love you too.” Marcus whispered, cupping your cheek and leaning in to kiss you softly. “It’s going to be okay.” He breathes out like he’s actually believing it for the first time. Because the end is finally in sight. “We are going to get through this. I’m so fucking lucky to have found you.”

“I didn’t do a thing.” Your hands on his arms squeeze softly and you give him a lopsided grin. “Except accidentally tell your father about our s’mores dip and get a really good idea for chocolate and marshmallow covered strawberries in return.”

Marcus’s eyes widen and he bites his lip, smiling slightly. “I had forgotten about those.” He murmurs softly.

“I think we’re going to have to make some.” The smile on his face is everything, and you could just melt at how nostalgic he looks. “For the baby. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Marcus squeezes your hip and straightens. Letting go of you so he can walk over to the sink and wash his face from crying.

“What do you say to me making dinner for everyone?” It seems like the kindest gesture you can put forward, even if you’re not quite the gourmet cook that Andrew used to. A family meal meant everything to you growing up and it still does now. “Maybe we can talk a little bit more with your dad before the Wicked Witch comes home?”

“That –” Marcus is about to agree when Andrew walks into the kitchen, his phone sliding into his pocket. Turning to him, he wonders if it might just be that easy to get rid of Amanda.

“Everything’s being processed now.” Andrew tells you both, actually smiling a little. Amanda has made life hell for his son and he’s happy to make it hell for her in return. “The paperwork will be finished and filed before the end of business today.”

“God, just like that?” Marcus shakes his head in disbelief. “I’ve been trying for months to get her to just sign the damn papers. That I’m not giving her that trust.”

“She’ll have no reason not to sign now.” He notes the redness to Marcus’s eyes and the damp patch on your shirt but says nothing. It isn’t as though there is a door to your kitchen that could have kept him from hearing his son cry. “I’m—” he huffs a little, not used to the words or sure if they’ll be welcome. “I’m proud of you for not giving in to her, Marcus. A lesser man would have.”

“It wasn’t mine to give.” Marcus gives a small shrug. “Technically the money isn’t mine at all. I haven’t had a child, and I’m not the right age yet. I honestly never planned on touching it.” He admits, looking his father in the eyes.

“Well.” The older man rocks on his heels for a moment, steadying himself when he hears the front door open. “Hopefully it won’t be a sore subject for you any longer.”

“Shit.” Marcus wishes there were a few more minutes before she crawled in from the bowels of hell, but of course that couldn’t be the case. He turns to watch as Amanda walks through the door.

“Amanda.” Stepping out of the archway that leads into the kitchen, Andrew’s eyes narrow on her like a hawk spotting prey. “What remarkable timing you have. We were just talking about you.”

“Andrew!” Her eyes widen slightly, immediately adopting an innocent expression as she looks at him, barely noticing Marcus behind him as all three of you come into the living room. “I didn’t expect— you came all this way to make sure I was safe?” She simpers slightly, clutching her chest and finally looking at Marcus, smug when she notices his red rimmed eyes. “I am grateful to have the best father-in-law.”

There is a split second where you could swear that Andrew nods at you and Marcus, before he steps forward with a sympathetic coo in his voice. “Poor thing,” he intones, reaching like he’s going to cup Amanda’s cheek where the false make-up black eye hampers her usual flawless complexion. Instead of showing tenderness, though, the second she is in reach he swipes his thumb through the layers of foundation and color under her eye, smudging the make-up irreparably and holding up the digit to her gaze. “I came to make sure that you recant your story, sign the divorce papers, and leave. It’s a shame that you chose to prey on my son. Maybe you’ll choose a wiser target next time.”

Amanda gasps, jerking back with her eyes shooting daggers at Andrew. “How dare you touch me!” She screeches.

“Upset that I smudged your makeover?” He shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll live.”

She looks around at the three angry faces. “Good luck proving this.” She sneers, tossing her head defiantly and pointing at her eye, “I’ve already made reports. The ball is rolling and there’s nothing saying that the bruises don’t ‘heal’ by the time everything is investigated.”

"I would say that the camera footage of the actual incident, as well as you admitting to me in this moment that the bruise is false – also on camera – should do a great deal to convince the Austin police department as well as the internal review board at the FBI that the report was falsified." Andrew sneers right back at her, wondering how a little viper like her ever managed to fool his son. "But you've forgotten one very important fact while you have been running around conducting your circus, Amanda. Marcus isn't in charge of the trust until the baby is born. I am."

Amanda narrows her eyes for a split second, having forgotten that part. “So what?” She asks. “The trust has been done for years. You can’t take money out of it.”

"Incorrect." He's so pleased with the fact that she's wrong that he practically chuckles, making the sound that follows the word a little foreboding. "The trust has existed for years. But it is a living, growing entity. Or it was, until about four minutes ago. Now it is set in stone. Accessible only by Marcus and his fiancée. Any attempt to sign over as much as a penny to any person besides their children will result in the immediate dissolvement of the entire trust."

Realization and fury fill Amanda’s eyes and she lets out a scream that is shrill enough that Marcus flinches in pain. “See if I fucking divorce you now!” She screams. “I’ll make sure your child is a bastard – just like you!”

"That's fine." Marcus and Andrew's heads both whip around to look at you in disbelief when you open your mouth, hearing those words come out. "This isn't Victorian England. Legitimacy doesn't mean anything, because our child is loved and wanted. Just like Marcus."

Marcus swallows and nods. “Our baby is wanted.” He tells Amanda.

Andrew nods, disgusted with the way she would try to emotionally manipulate his son. “Marcus was planned.” He informs her, much to Marcus’s shock. “I know that my son labored under the misconception that he was the byproduct of an affair, but he was not. His mother and I knew the exact date he was conceived.”

“Staying married won’t entitle you to a thing.” You tell Amanda point blank, sounding much braver than you feel. “You’ll just be lonely and miserable without any chance of being able to restart your life because you’ll have dug your heels too hard into ours.”

“I’ve wasted too much money on this to walk away empty-handed.” Amanda looks over pointedly at Andrew.

“What a shame.” Andrew laments dramatically. “Nothing is all you’re getting.”

Growling in frustration, Amanda throws her hands up and whirls around. “You’ve not won!”

“I will make you one deal.” Andrew offers, after a chilling pause. “Pack up your things, call your job and quit, and I’ll drive you myself to the Four Seasons Austin to spend your last week bothering my son staying in a luxury hotel. I’ll drive you to the lawyer’s office and to the police department myself tomorrow so that everything can be handled properly. As soon as you have dotted your last ‘i’, I will put you on a one-way flight back to Portland and you will never contact any of us again.” The business side of Andrew Packard is chilling, knowing no compassion or compromise as he stares her down in the living room. “This offer will be made only once. If you take it, we will not file a restraining order.”

Amanda clenches her jaw, looking from Marcus to you and the back to Andrew. “Fine.” She spits. “The decor is ugly and uncomfortable anyway.” She sniffs, glaring at you and Marcus. “You both deserve one another.”

Watching her storm upstairs is like watching a thunder cloud move independently through the skies, and Andrew’s eyes follow her with concern. “One of you should come with me to watch her pack. To make sure she doesn’t take any of your things.”

“I’ll do it.” Marcus volunteers, turning to you and pulling you against him. “I don’t want her to actually try to push you down the stairs in retaliation.”

“Agreed.” Andrew sets one hand gently on your shoulder. “Why don’t you decide where you and the Pike-ette would like to have dinner tonight. A celebration. My treat.”

Marcus looks at you when you turn your eyes on him, nodding slightly. “That sounds good.” He says. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“I’ll do a last purge of the kitchen while she packs.” Being able to toss out one last batch of all off those foods that have been making your life that much more miserable will be incredibly cathartic.

“Okay baby.” Marcus nods and kisses your forehead. “We are getting rid of her.”

“We can pick a wedding date.” Did you mean what you said earlier about still being with Marcus and loving your baby if you were never able to be married? Of course. But without Amanda standing in your way, the path to happiness lies open and waiting for you.

“Yes, we can.” Marcus beams at you, his grin wide and happy. “You decide if you want the wedding before the baby is born and talk to the inn and see when we can do it.”

“I’ll email Alana and see what dates they have available.” You rope your arms around his neck to press an earnest kiss to his lips. “Go on. I’ll be right here when she’s done.”

Marcus smiles and keeps smiling as he and Andrew make their way upstairs. Hearing her slam around in the room she has been squatting in. “I refused to put furniture in the spare room.” Marcus admits as they walk up the stairs. “So she had to sleep on an air mattress.”

“Will it be the nursery now?” Andrew distinctly remembers painting the nursery walls in the little house where Marcus grew up, loving the shade of blue they chose and how it seemed to radiate happiness when the sun hit it just right.

“Yes.” Marcus nods quickly, unable to keep from grinning at the prospect of finally being able to prepare for the baby. “Everything we’ve bought so far has been stuffed in our room. Afraid she would destroy it.” Marcus steps up on the landing and turns around to look back down at his father. “We’re planning on having four.”

“Four?” Andrew chuckles at his son’s enthusiasm, but slaps him on the shoulder in that sort of ingrained act of encouragement that all fathers show. “Do you have names yet?”

Marcus laughs and, if possible, his grin gets even wider. While he wouldn’t say everything with his father was fixed, he wasn’t going to continue to shut the man out. “We’ve got a notebook of names.” He bites his lip and asks, “who chose Marcus?”

“Your mother did.” They stand at the top of the staircase, sentinels making sure that Amanda keeps packing every second that she’s in that room. “I liked Mark, but she thought Marcus sounded better.”

“What you said – downstairs…” Marcus shuffles slightly and glances back at his father. “About being planned…was that for her sake or was that true?”

“That was true.” Andrew’s head bobs on a resigned sigh. “We talked about it so much – what it could be like to have a real family – until ultimately we decided that having you was more important than whether or not we were married.”

Marcus sighs, echoing his father almost exactly. "I wish I had been told all of this." He murmurs quietly, frowning when he remembers something else that Andrew had said. "You said all your children hate you." He reminds him. "What's the deal with that?"

“We were going to tell you…” he knows it isn’t enough, but it’s the truth. “When you turned eighteen. When your mother died before that I couldn’t—” He couldn’t bring himself to sully the perfect memory that Marcus had of the woman who cherished him more than the world. “I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself. But the girls? They…” He shrugs, not quite knowing what to say on that account. If he was ever looking for proof that he was a lousy father, it lay in the fact that none of his children wanted anything to do with him. “I focused my entire life on provided for my kids. When that’s your focus, you forget to be there for things like dance recitals and homecoming games. They become less important in your mind, but they’re not, Marcus. Don’t ever miss out on what is important to those four kids of yours once they’ve arrived. Because while you’re busy looking at the broader strokes, the little things are already cemented in their minds.”

"I'm not." Marcus promises, knowing for a fact that his relationship with his children will be far different from the one he had with his father. Although he can acknowledge that it's also because of his own attitude towards Andrew that caused the rift and the stoic man's refusal to bend the rules that apparently his parents had put in place when he was young concerning the knowledge of what was going on behind the scenes. "I plan on being a very hands-on dad." He sighs when he hears another slam inside the bedroom and glances towards the closed door. "Although I'm pretty sure that the kids will be spoiled by their grandfather when he comes to visit."

“What’s her father like?” Andrew can’t deny the sting that comes from knowing that your father will be allowed to have a relationship with his grandchildren when he will not – but he burned this bridge a long time ago. He knows that now. And Marcus may have apologized for his harsh attitude over the years, but it was far from displaced.

"I— I've never met him actually." Marcus admits sheepishly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He's a farmer in upper New York." He chuckles after a moment, realizing that his father didn't understand what he had been trying to subtly say. "So I'm anticipating vacations to the farm more than he would come to them." He shrugs and looks at the man who really does embody what Marcus can expect to look like in another thirty-five years. "Their other grandfather would be the one that travels a lot."

“Oh.” Andrew nearly stumbles, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he moves to lean on the railing at the top of the stairs. “Any time, Marcus.” He promises, without hesitation. “Say the word and I’ll be there.”

"Well, first we have to get through the wedding." Marcus tells him casually. "It'll be in Washington D.C. That little inn where we stayed. She's in love with it and honestly? I am too." He opens up, offering his father details that he never would have before. He doesn't know if his father cares about information like that, but it's his way to extend an olive branch. "And then there's the birth of the baby. Have to be there for it."

“What’s the inn?” Marcus hasn’t willingly opened up to him like this in nearly twenty years and Andrew will be damned if he doesn’t grab the opportunity to learn all he can when his son is willing to share. “She strikes me as the homey and historical type.” He had gotten a few glances at your ring in the last few hours, too, and was impressed to see that you had chosen style over carat number - the opposite of what Amanda wore.

“She is.” Marcus grins, proud of you and everything to do with you. “The Chestnut House Inn.” He tells his dad, hearing another muffled curse from the closed door of the spare room. “Coincidentally in Georgetown too.”

Andrew hums for a moment, thinking intently, before he nods. “Big old converted mansion, right? They used to have dances there and your grandparents liked their restaurant a lot.” He chuckles, shaking his head at the coincidence. “It’s maybe two blocks from the house. You’ll be able to go and visit any time you like. I think they stopped doing afternoon teas in the summer, but my mother loved those.”

“If it was ever on the market, she would want to buy it in a heartbeat.” Marcus can’t believe that Andrew knows about the inn. “She majored in hospitality.”

“Really?” That surprises him. That you’re not working in the field you had wanted to. But times are tough even for the well connected, in terms of the job market. “For the right price, I think the current owner could be persuaded to part with it, don’t you?” It would take almost no work at all to find out who owns the place and if they’re inclined to sell. He could have the information from his business manager in under an hour.

Marcus shrugs, having left the majority of his own business dealings and investments alone. Maybe just a bit of a thumbing towards his father since business had been his entire life. “I honestly don’t have a clue what something like that would cost.”

“It depends on how well it’s doing and how satisfied the owner is with their staff, usually.” Andrew’s phone is out and in his hand, quick keystrokes getting him the information he needs, until a moment later he’s nearly laughing in disbelief. “You know,” he looks up at Marcus. “If you think she would really be interested, and be good at it? I know the current owner. He’s a son of a bitch, and a greedy one. He would sell if there was a profit to be had.”

Marcus knows you will be fantastic at it. “She isn’t the problem.” Marcus tells Andrew. “She would be amazing at it. But I don’t have that kind of money and I don’t know if, or when, we will be in D.C.”

“I have that kind of money.” Andrew reminds him, not shy about the fact that he would want to be the one to do this. “If and when you get word about DC? You just let me know. It would be a hell of a surprise for her, if you wanted it to be.”

“I’ll let you know.” He doesn’t want his father to expend hundreds of thousands of dollars on his behalf, even if it wouldn’t personally hurt his wallet.

“Do.” Andrew nods. He’ll buy the property anyway, keeping the staff in place, and gift it to you and Marcus on the correct occasion. It’s no less than what the current owner is doing, he’s sure, and he’s a better businessman than his so-called friend. But he doesn’t want to lose the thread he has with Marcus, so he quickly picks up the conversation again. “Have you talked about the honeymoon yet?”

“Vague ideas.” Marcus admits. “It’s been hard to plan when we couldn’t set a date. Somewhere private. Maybe a tropical island.”

“You’re welcome to use our place in the Caymans.” Glancing over at his son, Andrew is perhaps extra aware of the privileges that he can offer if Marcus is willing to let him into his life. Not that he ever forced his son to struggle – he actively worked to provide for him – but the advantages are definitely exaggerated right now. He wants to give Marcus, and you and the baby, the world.

Marcus frowns and furrows his brow. “The Caymans…” he tilts his head. “That vacation to the beach when I was seven? Eight? Was that?”

“That was the Caymans.” Andrew nods, pleased that Marcus at least has some good memories of him left.

“That was a good vacation.” Marcus muses. “You helped me make sandcastles and you and mom would stay up late and dance.” He remembers watching when he was supposed to be asleep.

“I loved her.” Andrew murmurs, turning his eyes on his son again. “As well as I knew how. And we—we both love you so much. She would be so proud of you.”

“I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on.” Marcus murmurs, feeling warmer. “Do you—” he hesitates for a moment. “The photo albums she had, do you have them in storage?” He asks quietly.

“I have them, but not in storage.” The albums that Rachel had kept so meticulously to document Marcus’s early years occupy a shelf in the safe of Andrew’s home office, where they have sat for years, waiting to become part of what is effectively Marcus’s inheritance. “They’re yours when you want them.”

“Where are they?” His answer is suddenly very important to Marcus. He’s had a lot of judgements against his father, but he needs to know this.

“My safe.” Andrew barely glances at the door to the spare room when a storm of frustration is heard from inside. “In my office at home. They’re yours, of course, but I—I’ve appreciated being able to see your mother from time to time over the years.”

Marcus chokes up slightly and blinks rapidly, realizing how much that Andrew must have missed her and being denied the child that he created with her must have twisted the knife deeper. “Maybe we can make copies?” He offers. “So we can both have the memories of her?”

It takes a moment, but Andrew manages to hold back an overly emotional reaction, nodding instead. But a crack in his voice gives him away anyway. “I—I’ll keep the digital copies. You should have the albums.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Marcus tells him right as the door to the bedroom opens and Amanda curls her lips at the two men. “This is touching and all, but someone needs to help me with my bags.”

While it would be delightful to force the woman to make several trips on her own, Andrew wants her out of Marcus’s hair pronto. “Come on,” he huffs, all but rolling his eyes when he sees three more bags sitting on the mattress in the spare room. “The sooner you’re out of here, the happier everyone involved will be.”

She snorts and huffs as she shoulders her purse and levels a withering look at Marcus. “It’s a good thing, I guess.” She tells him. “You were horrible in bed and boring.”

“Oh now see, Amanda, that’s just not true.” At the bottom of the stairs, you’re standing with a trash bag full of her awful foods all tied up and ready to send away with her. “Because I’ve fucked both of you, and you were worse by far.” Thrusting the bag into her hand as she practically stumbles down the last step to you, you just smile brightly. The eager, victorious, unwavering smile of a woman who is finally going to be free of torment to live the life that makes her happy. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”

“Fuck all of you.” She hisses, looking like she might attack you for a moment before she stalks to the front door and flings it open. “Let’s go!”

“Bye bye now!” The sound of the door shutting behind her might be the best thing you’ve heard since Marcus asked you to marry him, and you practically slump in on yourself watching her go. Andrew calls out a promise to come back soon and then it’s nothing but blissful, magical silence inside your house.

“Holy shit.” Marcus slumps down and closes his eyes. “I can’t believe that it might actually be over.”

“There’s still paperwork to sign and making sure she retracts her statement to the police, but at least she’s not in the house.” Wrapping both arms around Marcus, you bring him tight to your chest and press a kiss to his hairline. “And we gotta make sure she quits her job, so I can have my work back.”

“She’s quit.” Marcus chuckles and presses a kiss to your hairline. “My father will make sure of it.” For the first time since he had woken up to the banging on the door, he feels like he can breathe.

“How are you feeling about having him around a little?” For such an enormous arrival outside of thin air today, Andrew Packard has certainly made an impression. And not the one you thought he would.

“I don’t…hate it.” Marcus admits quietly. “Surprisingly.” He rubs your back and decides to tell you. “I may have told him that he needed to be around for his four soon-to-be grandkids.”

That surprises you probably as much as it surprised him to say it, but you melt a little in his arms and let one hand cradle the underside of your belly. “I’m proud of you, love. It’s not easy to except help from someone you’re at odds with, and you did far more than just accept today.”

“I— learning the specifics of their entire…thing – it changed a lot of things for me.” He tells you quietly. “Especially since we’ve been in our own situation.”

“Maybe we can learn a little more while your father is still here?” Tangled around each other, the tension of the last few months loosens from your joints and starts to drip from your shoulders. “He did something enormous for us today. It would be nice if we could keep building good memories.”

“I can’t believe that he did this.” He sighs out. “I can’t be upset at him for coming. He did something amazing for us. And he has the photo albums.”

“Your mom’s albums?” He’s mentioned them more than a few times - how he wishes he had those photographs from his childhood to share with you and with your kids. “Seriously?”

“They aren’t in storage.” Marcus whispers. “He’s got them in his personal safe.”

“Would he let us make copies?” You know how much it would mean to Marcus to have memories of his mother back again, and you would do anything to help him make that happen. “I can make a digital replica for us to keep.”

“The photo albums are mine.” Marcus whispers, still amazed that his father had said that. “He wants to make a digital copy for himself. And let me keep the originals.”

“Oh, honey.” You’ll blame the tears in your eyes on pregnancy hormones, but either way you squeeze Marcus tight to your side. “That’s amazing. You’ll be able to see her whenever you want now.”

“I know.” He closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you again. “I think this is going to be good for both of us. I’m going to try. To at least be polite, but I’m going to try.”

“I think it could be really good.” You won’t push, of course. You have never pushed Marcus. But it seems clear to you that Andrew wants a relationship with his son and is willing to put in a hell of a lot of work to make that happen. Humming softly when he kisses you again, you grin against his lips. “Alana is sending me a list of available dates for the rest of the year. We could have a wedding date picked out before we even go to bed tonight.”

“I invited him.” He announces. “Or maybe he doesn’t realize I did, but I mean to.” Inviting him to a wedding he had helped move up was the least he could do.

“We’ll make sure he gets a real invitation sent through the mail and everything.” It’s too much to ask if he might want to try to talk to his sisters, and today has already been a bit overwhelming, so you leave that out of the conversation for now. “Out of everything…I can’t believe he’s just…giving us a house…”

He can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s what you are impressed with?” He can’t help but swing you around slightly and kiss you again, so fucking happy that the end is in sight.

“I’m taking it in one thing at a time!” You defend, laughing in his arms as he reels you in again to crush tightly against his chest. “I don’t even know how to process a number like thirty-five million, and it’s not going to really hit me that she’s gone until we wake up in the morning to no loud noises and no awful smells. So yes, I zeroed in on the house.”

“So you love me for my money?” Marcus teases, winking at you even though he’s shooting you a playful pout. “Although my father is impressed with you, adding you to the trust.”

“Marcus Pike, I would love you with nothing but dirt under your fingernails.” After all, you are a farm girl. “I would marry you with no ring and no roof and barely the clothes on our backs. I will work every day of my life to help provide for our family and make our lives happy.” Squeezing his hand in yours, your smile turns teasing. “But it’s a lot easier to plan for four babies when we know we won’t be struggling to feed them.”

“No. We won’t be struggling to feed them.” Marcus smiles and rubs your stomach with his free hand. “Especially since he just also maneuvered us into using the trust.” He chuckles. “Crafty bastard.”

“It’s a change we’ll reckon with.” Especially if he and his father are going to repair their relationship, which seems likely in light of today. “If using the trust means gaining your memories of your mother, then I’m all for it.”

“I can’t believe this.” Marcus shakes his head. “This is not what I expected to happen when I walked into your work today.”

“And thank god for that.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “Because the day we almost had was going to be hell.”

He basks in the silence for a moment before he flashes you a sly smile. “Want to go deflate the air mattress?” He chuckles sinisterly. “Although I hate wasting things, I feel like it’s contaminated and should be thrown out.”

“We’ll find somewhere to donate it.” Waste isn’t in either of your vocabularies when you can help it, but you’re not keen to keep the bed Amanda had been sleeping on, either.

“We can clean it up and start setting it up for the baby.” Marcus rubs your stomach again and sighs, relieved by being able to actually do something rather than dream. “I’ll go get the cleaning stuff, you can just watch or start stripping the air mattress. You know she didn’t.”

“We’ll get everything cleaned up and we’ll paint first thing. Get the room feeling completely different then when she was in it.” Popping up, you lean over to kiss Marcus before heading for the stairs. “It’s gonna be great.”

Marcus watches you, just admiring the way that you are buoyed by the change in circumstances. The pep in your step a delightful thing to see and he hopes that there is nothing but smooth sailing from now on. You are right, it's gonna be great.

______

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic #tw divorce #tw unplanned pregnancy #pregnant reader #tw deceased parent #tw adultery

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ao3feed-sidlink · 2 years ago

Text

Multiverso Mágico

by KittyPasta

Una serie de crossovers entre el mundo mágico de Harry Potter y algunas de mis series, películas, animés, cartoons y juegos favoritos. Cada capítulo es individual y puede leerse como si fuera un oneshot. Ninguna de las obras originales me pertenece, solo las estoy tomando prestadas para su entretenimiento.

Words: 1689, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Español

Fandoms: My Little Pony, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Gravity Falls, The Owl House (Cartoon), She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), The Simpsons, Futurama, SPY x FAMILY (Anime), プリパラ | PriPara | Prism Paradise, 美男高校地球防衛部LOVE! | Binan Koukou Chikyuu Bouei-bu LOVE!, Our Flag Means Death (TV), Good Omens (TV), Shark Tale (2004), Winx Club, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, 転生したらスライムだった件 - 伏瀬 | Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken | That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime - Fuse, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, The Mentalist, Destripando la Historia | Gutting History (Web Series), Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse (Cartoon), X-Men: First Class (Comics), Disney Fairies, Star Wars - All Media Types, Sky High (2005), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, South Park, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Characters: Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic), Tony Stark, Dipper Pines, Stede Bonnet, Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Lenny Lino, Patrick Jane, Link (Legend of Zelda), Philip J. Fry, Kenny McCormick, Luz Noceda, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charlie Spring, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Adora (She-Ra), Anya Forger, Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Turanga Leela, Hank Scorpio, Agent Stone (Sonic the Hedgehog 2020), Sonic the Hedgehog, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik, Barbie Roberts, Elise (Fire Emblem), Anakin Skywalker, Tsukino Usagi, Bloom (Winx Club)

Relationships: Applejack/Rarity (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic), Starlight Glimmer/Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic), Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Link/Prince Sidon, Philip J. Fry/Turanga Leela, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch

Additional Tags: Crossover, Multiverse

From https://ift.tt/VYT8B9t https://archiveofourown.org/works/42064155

#ao3feed-sidlink #sidlink #sidon x link #prince sidon x link #link botw #prince sidon #breath of the

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ironstrangeao3 · 2 years ago

Text

Multiverso Mágico

by KittyPasta

Words: 1689, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Español

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Additional Tags: Crossover, Multiverse

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42064155

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #fanfic #ao3

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our-flag-means-death-ao3feed · 2 years ago

Text

Multiverso Mágico

by KittyPasta

Words: 1689, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Español

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Additional Tags: Crossover, Multiverse

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42064155

#Our flag means death #ofmd

0 notes

ao3feed-ineffablehusbandz · 2 years ago

Text

Multiverso Mágico

by KittyPasta

Words: 1689, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Español

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi

Additional Tags: Crossover, Multiverse

From https://ift.tt/zgSVCEI https://archiveofourown.org/works/42064155

#ao3feed ineffablehusbandz #ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthonyjcrowl

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wardenparker · 2 years ago

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Starting Over - Chapter 9

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this fic will include divorce, past abusive relationships, deceased mothers, father issues/family trauma, unplanned pregnancy.* Cursing and food mentions, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader, pregnancy sex, Marcus “Pregnancy Kink” Pike, biting, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, the fucking ROMANCE of it all. Summary: A direct continuation from chapter 8 - Marcus has a very important question to ask. Notes: Name dropping some of our favourite Smithsonian museums in this chapter. If you’re ever inclined and in the area, the National Mall and the Smithsonian are always worth a visit. (This has been your friendly PSA from the lady who wanted to be a museum curator for many years!)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

The Freer Gallery is the perfect way to start the day, with hallway upon hallway of spectacular pieces to be admired until the call of dinosaur fossils and the Hope Diamond is too great and you give Marcus the prettiest pout you possibly can, to traipse across the Mall together to the Museum of Natural History. It’s a beautiful day, sunny and clear, and that will be perfect for a picnic. But right now you’re strolling around the Hall of Geology, Gems, and Minerals cooing over all the pretty, shiny gems while Marcus grins and every so often grazes your belly with two fingers like he’s checking in on the baby.

“Are you doing okay, sweetheart?” He asks, watching your brow furrow as you read the little plaque giving you a history of the stone you are in front of. “Want to take a break? Hungry?”

“I’m fine.” You’re holding up surprisingly well as far as back and ankle pain go today, not having felt either yet. “I am getting hungry, though.” Sneaking a peak at Marcus’s watch, you flash him a grin. “It’s quarter of two. We should get out of here and find a place for our picnic.”

Giddy anticipation hums in his system and he eagerly nods. “How about I run back to the car and grab our picnic and you pick out the perfect spot for us to set up?” He asks, leaning in and kissing your lips tenderly.

“There was a nice tree with some pretty pansies all around it when we crossed the Mall. Does that sound okay?” Leaning into his side, you give one more longing glance to the enormous, infamous stone on display and sigh dramatically. “What a shame to have something that pretty be cursed.”

“Maybe one day the curse will be lifted.” He doesn’t know if he believes in that kind of thing, but you do, so he’s indulgent. “And some shade, pansies and a picnic sound perfect.”

“Then let’s head out into the sunshine.” The two of you move easily through the thick crowds, staying hand in hand until you reach the entrance to the museum. “That tree up there,” you tell him, pointing straight up the grass at a large tree providing plenty of shade. “I’ll go grab it now while there’s no one under it.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” His hand caresses your stomach again and he steals another kiss before he turns toward where the cars are parked and starts quickly jogging.

You have a couple of texts from Naomi when you sit down in the grass, and you answer the insistent queries about whether or not it has happened yet before putting your phone away again in favour of leaning your back against the big oak tree and relaxing.

At the car, Marcus checks for the one hundredth time that the ring is in the box, grinning at it before he snaps it closed and shoves it in his pocket. The cooler is conveniently equipped with wheels, so he pulls the handle up and starts to pull it towards the trees where you said you would be.

“Hey there handsome.” Waggling your eyebrows at Marcus when he rolls up to the bottom of the tree with the cooler, you end up giggling at the ridiculous greeting and sitting up in the grass. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Imagine my surprise when I run into the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Marcus winks and pulls the blanket he had thrown over the top of the cooler off so he can spread it out. “Would you mind if I joined you and shared the contents of my fabulous lunch with you?”

“Just as long as there’s no coffee, mustard, shrimp, or pineapple in there.” You groan, hating that the Pike-ette has caused you to lose your taste for some of your favourite foods.

“Absolutely none.” Marcus promises with a grin, knowing how much you have hated giving up shrimp. “This is a no coffee, mustard, shrimp, or pineapple picnic.”

“Then I would very much like to share it with you, please.” Shifting around, you get the blanket laid out for the two of you to sit on and lean over to kiss Marcus soundly before he starts unpacking the cooler. “I’m having a really great time, honey. I hope you are, too.”

“Today is perfect.” Marcus promises, his heart starting to speed up as he pulls out the containers that he had been assured would be the perfect proposal picnic fair for a pregnant woman. “You are perfect.”

“Hardly.” That makes you laugh, and you shake your head as he hands you a few containers to spread out. Roast chicken with an incredibly cilantro-forward chimichurri, a spicy jalapeño-cumin coleslaw with all kinds of fresh veggies, cornbread with bacon and cheddar cheese. Gourmet versions of amazing comfort foods, all made specially for the two of you. “But as long as I’m perfect for you, that’s all that matters.”

“You are perfect.” There is a bottle of some homemade raspberry lemonade concentrate and a bottle of sparkling water to mix it with. “And I thank whoever is out there every morning that I get to call you mine.”

“Always.” Taking the bottles from him, you grin at being able to play bartender a little, pouring out two glasses in the beautiful drinkware that the inn sent.

Marcus brings out the plates and cutlery, setting it to the side and takes the glass that you offer to him. He is going to let you eat first, knowing you are hungry before he gets to talking about how much he loves you. “To you and the peanut. To us and our future.” He offers you softly. “I love you more every single day and that will never change.”

“To us.” The pithy reply that your love does change because it grows just doesn’t seem right here, but you tap your glass against his with a smile. “You, me, the Pike-ette, and the rest to come.”

Taking a sip of the delicious lemonade, he sets aside his glass and picks up one of the plates go offer you. “Shall we dig in?” He asks with a grin. “I see you eyeing the cornbread and coleslaw.”

“It all looks amazing.” And you’re not about to deny how hungry you are, happily starting to scoop out portions of each item onto your plate. “What was your favourite thing we saw this morning?” You ask, humming happily at your first bite of coleslaw.

“Well, I was people watching.” Marcus fixes his plate after you, making sure that he leaves some in case you want seconds. “My favorite thing was this gorgeous woman in a pretty dress who was near me all the time.”

“Come on.” You roll your eyes at him playfully as you both start to eat. “Seriously. Favourite thing on display in a museum.”

“The little boy inside me is always going to say the dinosaurs.” Marcus chuckles, reaching over and wiping a drop of chimichurri sauce off your chin where it drips off your bite of chicken.

“Dinosaurs are so fucking cool.” Agreeing to that is about as easy as breathing, even as you chuckle at yourself for being messy while you eat. “This is amazing.”

“Yes it is.” He’s happy you are enjoying the meal, grinning at you. “I foresee our kids being dinosaur nuts.”

“And space.” You nod wisely. “You said you wanted to be an astronaut when you were little.”

“I really, really wanted to discover dinosaurs in space.” He tells you, chuckling again at his own views as a kid.

“Maybe one day the FBI will investigate space dinosaurs.” The image makes you laugh so hard that you have to put your plate down, and you reach for your drink instead.

Marcus grins as he watches you. This day is perfect, and he loves how carefree you are. The sun is shining and the birds are singing in complete agreement with how wonderful the day is. “Maybe.” He concedes. “Although I think it might be a little bit beyond our jurisdiction.”

The way your raise one eyebrow at him in playful challenge makes both of you grin. “You don’t think the US would try to colonize whatever planet immediately after finding out about space dinosaurs?”

“Not until they find natural resources they can exploit.” Marcus rolls his eyes and forks up a bite of his coleslaw to shove in his mouth with a small groan. “Only happens if politicians can line their pockets.” He says after he swallows.

“Exactly.” You point your fork at him. “Those assholes would be up there making Jurassic Park so fast.”

“Like we haven’t seen movie after movie explaining why that would be the worst idea.” He groans.

“Why, Agent Pike.” One hand goes to your chest in mock shock. “Do you not trust politicians to work together for our greater good?!”

“About as much as I trust a politician to pass a lie detector test.” Marcus huffs, rolling his eyes again. “It’s like they have a course in school on how to lie.”

“Well, I have heard that private school curriculum is different.” You snicker, leaning over to kiss him.

“I went to school with some of them.” He reminds you with a grumble, but he softens to press his lips to yours. “Until I told my mom I wanted to go to regular school.”

“Our kids are definitely going to public school.” That’s not even up for debate for you, even though you know he could afford to put all four through private school. It isn’t about the money.

“Maybe just give them extra lessons in things they are interested in.” Marcus compromises.

“Oh, absolutely. After school stuff, extra lessons, sports, whatever they’re in to.” That’s the stuff you never got, always having to come home to the farm after school was over for the day. “I always wanted to do that stuff. There’s no way I’m keeping it from them.”

He grins, loving the animation in your voice and he knows you will make sure it happens. “Just like I want you to have hobbies that interest you.” He adds. “Especially if you do decide to stay home. It’s important that you have an identity outside of the Pike household. Preferably one that doesn’t have ‘Moooooooommmmmmm’ called out every two seconds.”

“One night in that hotel is making me wish I hadn’t given up on hospitality,” you admit, leaning against his shoulder. “But maybe we can just always stay at really nice inns whenever we go on vacation.”

He snorts softly and gives a small shake of his head, reminding himself how wonderfully giving you are. Your hobby would be taking care of others, of course it would be. “We will make that a thing.” He promises.

“You spoil me.” A happy hum accompanies the sunny smile you give him, and you fork up the last bite of your lunch with a satisfied sigh. This trip has been perfect, and Marcus is perfect, and everything is perfect.

“I hope to spoil you more.” Marcus’s lunch is quickly finished behind yours and instead of packing things away, he just pushes them towards the cooler so he can spread out towards you. “A lot more.”

“Oh yeah?” Laying down on the blanket under the tree with him is incredibly relaxing and you reach up to trace his jaw idly. “Is there a specific plan in place?”

"Maybe." He grins, and leans into your touch, sighing softly as the wind stirs in branches overhead and makes the moment just a bit cooler.

“I hope it involves space dinosaurs,” you tease, letting your head fall back on the blanket when you laugh.

“Oh my God.” Marcus groans, even as he laughs with you. “I’m in love with a dork.” He moves closer, leaning over you and cupping your cheek gently.

The laughing and teasing has you giggling so hard that you snort, and that just makes you laugh harder. “If you didn’t know that already, then we need to have a conversation.”

His touch is soft as he strokes your skin, grinning happily down at you. “Oh, I knew that.” He confirms. “But there is a little conversation we need to have.”

“Oh yeah?” Something just beneath the surface of your skin tingles with that gorgeous feeling of excitement and this is it flashes in your mind, but you manage to contain yourself just in case he has something else on his mind. “What’s that, baby?”

He swears that you can feel his heart beating out of his chest, sitting up and shifting to where he is kneeling in front of you on both of his knees. Sliding his hand down to caress your stomach before he picks up one of your hands, the left one to hold gently. "You know I love you, right?"

“And I love you.” You really promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry when this finally happened, but this is it, this is it is the rhythm of your heart right now and it is pushing water up behind your eyes with each beat. “More than anything.”

“There was a small time where I wasn’t sure if I would ever find someone who just…fit me.” He confesses, reaching into his pocket for the box you are well acquainted with. You had picked it out. “Until I walked into your Crate and Barrel looking to establish myself in a new city, a new life.”

Oh god…he has a speech…you’re never going to make it through this without sobbing. The automatic soothing motion you have for yourself now is gently rubbing the side of your belly, and the hands of yours that he isn’t holding goes to your small bump like a magnet when you sit up in front of him. There are people staring - of course there are - but your eyes and your full attention are only for him in this moment.

“I instantly knew that you were someone I wanted to know, to spend time with.” He can’t help the small break in his voice, the emotion crowding him. “And I loved the way we bantered. Making me feel like the luckiest man on the planet when you agreed to lunch and then dinner with me.”

“My whole staff was enamored with you.” You choke a little, emotion and tears thickening your voice. “They teased me forever.”

“That night—” He gives you a small wink and a dirty grin. “Was heaven, and then you just amazed me with your trust and support over the past few months and everything we have dealt with together.” He leans down and presses his lips to the back of your hand. “I’ve known since that night that I wanted forever with you and every day since then had just proven that you are the woman I am meant to spend the rest of my days loving and worshiping.” Flipping the box open, he offers it to you and whispers your name. “Will you do me the favor, the honor of marrying me? Being my wife and bearing my name and our children? Having adventures with me as life takes us on a journey?”

It feels like you can barely get the “Yes!” out through the tears, but you’re nodding and throwing your arms around him instantly. A few cheers and some smattered applause come from the people around you who have been watching, but all you can do is hold him close and murmur “I love you,” through the excited vibrating in your whole body.

It’s funny how relieved he is when you picked out the ring. Still, it thrums through his system, and he pulls back so he can eagerly press his lips to yours in a celebratory kiss.

“I swore I wasn’t going to cry,” you laugh, trying to brush away the tears as fast as they fall. “And here I am sobbing like an idiot. I love you so much, Marcus. So much.”

“I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever know.” He promises, smiling like a crazy man as he helps you wipe away tears and kisses you again. “Now, let’s see how the ring looks.”

“My memory did not do it justice.” The decision to not take a picture of it or even save the one on your phone browser that day, had been intentional. You had wanted the small details of the piece to fade from your mind so that seeing it when he proposed would be like seeing it for the first time. Like seeing something you had fantasized about. When Marcus slips the ring in your finger it’s all you can do not to let more tears free, and you watch his fingers caress yours gently like you’re in a dream. “It really is almost as gorgeous as you are.”

“The only gorgeous thing that I see is my fiancée sitting here, wearing my ring while carrying my baby.” His own eyes are filled with tears of gratitude, and he sighs happily. He knows the crowd is watching and he turns his head and lifts your hand up. “She said yes!”

More scattered applause and a few whistles sound out in the Mall as you grin against him, unable and unwilling to resist kissing him with the gorgeous symbol of his love on your finger. “Fiancée.” You can’t stop smiling. At this point your cheeks are going to stretch forever. “I like that.”

“It’s official.” Marcus’s own grin is wide and proud. “As soon as I can make it happen, you will be Mrs. Pike.”

“I may have already started looking at dresses,” you admit, stealing another kiss. There can never be enough.

“You look as much as you want.” Marcus can’t help but grin even more. “I want you to be excited.”

“I’m very excited.” But also practical, which is why you haven’t done anything but browse so far. For all the two of you know, the baby could always be born when you finally get to be married.

“I am too.” He doesn’t want to get your hopes up, but his lawyers had mentioned that Amanda’s lawyers are wanting to meet this coming week. “I cannot wait to marry you.”

“And I can’t wait to be parents to this little peanut together.” Your heads bow together, both looking down at your belly and smiling broadly like the saps you are.

“How was it?” He asks, only slightly teasing. Still wanting to make sure that you are happy with the way he proposed, even if he knows you would be happy to have him ask you while you were in bed— half asleep.

“Perfect.” It’s just a little whisper since you’re so close together, but you brush a kiss on the corner of his mouth and grasp both of his hands. “Absolutely everything has been perfect.”

“Good.” His smile is almost shy, pleased with himself for being able to make it special. He wants you to look back on today with nothing but happy memories. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You’re buzzing with it, practically vibrating with happiness. “Do you want to pack the cooler away and hit one more museum this afternoon? The baby’s been going easy on me today and I don’t want to lose out on time we could be exploring.”

“Absolutely.” He wants to let you do everything you want, and not push you, but not hold you back. “Fix us one last glass of that lemonade while I clean up, will you baby?”

“We should have raspberry lemonade at the wedding.” As a sweet little nod to your engagement, and on the chance that you will still be pregnant, it would be nice to have a moon-alcoholic treat on the day.

“I have a feeling that it will become a family favorite.” Marcus agrees with a smile. “We will have to see if they will give us their recipe.”

“Maybe it can be an engagement present.” You joke, handing him a glass of the beautiful deep pink drink.

“Maybe.” Marcus smiles. “They want to make sure this weekend is perfect for us.”

“All I ever need for a perfect weekend is my fiancé.” Saying the word makes you giggle happily. “My future husband and our little peanut make everything perfect.”

Marcus stacks the dishes and puts them in the cooler along with the rest of the food. Closing it up, although he knows he will add the glasses later before he takes it back to the car. “Hopefully you feel that way when your ankles are swollen and your back hurts.”

“Even when my ankles disappear into the ends of my legs, I will still think my babies are amazing.” The last glass of lemonade for each of you is cool and refreshing, and every time you raise you glass you smile at the way your ring catches the light.

He notices you keep looking at your ring and he grins. “You are going to be staring at it first the rest of the day.” He predicts.

“Next forty-eight hours, bare minimum.” Knowing yourself the way you do; you know you’ll be examining the way the stones catch the light in every new building or every change of light source just to see what it looks like. “It’s prettier than the Hope Diamond and not cursed. Very important.”

“Very important.” Marcus agrees, nodding and reaching out to catch your hand so he can look at it. “It looks better on your hand.”

“And there it will remain.” You’ve done good research into what kind of care your antique will require, because the idea of it becoming a family heirloom is something with big appeal for you. “It’s you and me, Marcus Pike. For the rest of our lives.”

“I like the sound of that.” He sighs happily and leans in to steal one more kiss before he kisses your hand. “If you want to wander towards the museum, I’ll go out this stuff up.”

“I think wander will be the right word.” Marcus helps you up out of the grass and you stretch lazily. “I’ll wait for you in the Air and Space lobby?”

“Perfect.” He grins and sends you a small wink. “We’ll get a bag of that space ice cream to snack on.”

“For my astronaut G-man fiancé.” As soon as the blanket is folded up, he’s headed back to the rental car and you start off for the next museum. While you’re out in the sun, though, you take a quick picture of your ring sparkling in your hand and fire it off to Naomi.

To Naomi: Introducing OFFICIALLY, the future Mrs Marcus Pike! 💗💍🥳

From Naomi: OH MY GOD!!! It’s been prettier than you described! 🥰🥰🥰

To Naomi: Give you all the details when we get home, but this weekend has been amazing so far. Love you!!

From Naomi: You deserve it babe! The Wicked Witch hasn’t burned down the house so relax and enjoy yourself! Love you too! 💋💋

Marcus appears at your side a few minutes later, sunny smile in place and ready to go. “Hey fiancé.” You smile like a moron being able to say the word and reach for his hand to lace your fingers together.

“Oh, I like that.” Marcus murmurs, heat flashing in his eyes at the term.

You grin, biting your lip to keep from shooting him too naughty of an expression in a place crowded with little kids, and lower your voice. “So that’s sir, fiancé, and possibly daddy?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, closing his eyes briefly to try to prevent from getting too turned on in public.

“Come on, fiancé.” It’s too easy to tease, but you snag his hand and drag him toward the Early Flight section of the museum, insisting that you do the place in order just because you can.

“You little brat.” He huffs under his breath, but he will follow you anywhere. Smiling when you turn around and throw him a cheeky grin.

“You like it.” It’s a delightful surprise, this little twist in your dynamic, and you’re grinning as you start strolling through the halls of the museum together.

“I do.” Marcus is surprised himself, but chuckles. “Because I know that you are just playing with it.”

“It’s just a game.” You nod, tucking into his side. “Because I love you. And I never actually want you to be upset.”

“Baby...” Marcus tugs on your hand to get you to stop, pulling you off to the side. “We are going to fight eventually.” He reminds you. “It’s going to happen, but I want you to know that I’m never going to let that cloud the way I feel about you.”

“All couples fight eventually.” You can agree to that. Even as mild as your mother had been about most things, she dug her heels in about others and it had caused quite the scene with your father more than once. “That’s why keeping our sense of humor and making sure we always keep talking is so important.”

“I just…I want us to be a team.” He truly does. Squeezing your hand gently, he smiles at you.

“We are, baby.” If nothing else, dealing with Amanda together for the last three months has proven it. “I promise.”

He smiles again, thanking his lucky stars that you are in his life, and you love him like you do. “Let’s take in the miracle of flight. You know, how we are getting home in two days.”

“Do we have to go back?” It’s a joke, and you pout at him to make him laugh because you both know you have to be back to work on Monday.

“Unfortunately so.” Marcus is right there with you. If he didn’t have work or a divorce to obtain, he would suggest staying right here.

You hum, pouting for just a second longer before you pull your connected hands to your lips to press a kiss to Marcus’s hand. “Then I guess we’ll just have to make the most of it while we’re here.”

“We certainly will.” Of that Marcus is certain, knowing that you will be relaxed when you get home, or he will have a fit trying.

******

You don’t leave the museum until closing time, strolling from gallery to gallery without urgency and leaving with a bag full of freeze-dried astronaut ice cream and a little model of Amelia Earhart’s Lockheed Vega to put on your desk at work. The drive back to the inn is equally unhurried, and soon you’re back in your suite kicking off your shoes and ready to rest before the night turns into dinner and dancing in a few hours.

“I need to return the cooler and thank them.” Marcus longingly looks at the bed where you are sprawled out, but he doesn’t lay down, knowing he won’t get up. “Do you want a snack or a drink?”

“I’m okay right now, but thank you, love.” Looking up at him from the mass of pillows, you tilt your head at Marcus and smile. “I know you’re afraid to nap and get all sleepy too early in the night, but how about if I draw us that bath while you return the cooler?”

“If that’s what you want.” He smiles and wonders if you will be asleep by the time he gets back. You’ve been napping whenever you can, and Amanda isn’t here to annoy you.

“If it’s what we both want.” This weekend is about the two of you together, not about you demanding special treatment for being pregnant. “We can just as easily pull out the map of the Mall and pick out tomorrow’s museums if you prefer.”

“No.” He bites his lip and gives you a small smile. “I really want to lay down with my fiancée.”

The word gives you a shiver, and you stretch languidly. “Then I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”

He smirks and sends you a small wink. “I’ll be right back, baby.” Quickly, he’s out the door and practically slipping down the hall to return the cooler.

******

Alana has been waiting with bated breath along with most of the rest of the staff all day, waiting for the guests in the Presidential Suite to return from their day out. When she spots the man strolling out of the elevator with a wide smile on his face, she practically leaps over the front desk to wave hello. “I take it everything went well?”

“Everything was perfect.” He promises, practically giggly as he nods. “My fiancée loved everything about our picnic and she loves the raspberry lemonade you packed.” He bites his lip. “The baby even loved the food and the little peanut has been a bit picky lately.”

“Well, we know that chocolate and peanut butter didn’t make it into the picnic basket, but the special dessert in the restaurant tonight is a chocolate tartlet with a peanut butter salted caramel, so I hope that will meet with the baby’s approval as well.” She’s going to make sure that the two that go to their table have Congratulations written out in ganache before they hit the table. It will be perfect, but she didn’t want to do it ahead of time and jinx anything. “Congratulations, Mr. Pike. Is there anything else we can do for you to make your stay memorable?”

“Is there any way that I can have a bottle or two if that lemonade concentrate shipped to my house in Texas?” He asks with a grin. “She even has talked about serving it at the wedding.”

“I’ll have a package put together to ship when you check out.” That much is easy, and it definitely isn’t the first time they’ve had the request. “I’ll see if chef is willing to part with the recipe for such a special reason.” She chuckles, shrugging her shoulders. “Unless you’d like to come back and have your wedding here. We do lovely weddings in the ballroom or in the gardens.”

Instead of groaning and shaking his head, making some comment about ‘oh don’t say that’, Marcus looks intrigued. “Do you have some paperwork I could show her?” He asks, looking around and smiling. “She really loves this place.”

“Of course!” Alana hadn’t expected that, considering he had just mentioned living in Texas, but she quickly picks the pertinent pamphlets out of the drawer under the front desk computer and hands them over with a bright smile. “I—um, I’m actually our event coordinator. I work front of house as an extension of that job. So you’ll find my card in that stack as well.” What she doesn’t want to tell him is that the place puts on a beautiful front but is woefully understaffed by virtue of an owner who doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with the staff on the idea that they could do more if his only concern wasn’t profit margins. “Any questions you have, please don’t hesitate.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and glances down at the pamphlets with a grin. “I have a feeling she will immediately jump on this idea.” He admits. “We are pretty decisive people and I know I will love being married here.”

“I look forward to talking to you both about it a little more, then.” Alana smiles as she takes the cooler back and offers him a nod as he heads back to the elevator.

In the elevator, Marcus starts to read the pamphlets, raising a brow at the options offered and the price point. It’s not overly outrageous, but there is a profit being made.

******

“Baby?” You were just about to drift off when the door clicks open, letting Marcus in from the hallway.

“Hey sweetheart.” He can’t help the smile on his face. You are all soft and sleepy, barely able to keep your eyes open as you lift your head off the pillow. “It’s me.”

“There’s my gorgeous fiancé.” There’s no way you’ll ever get sick of the word, and it makes you a little dopey every time you say it. “Everything go okay?” You’re not really sure what could go wrong with returning a cooler, but you still ask.

“Yes ma’am.” He steps on the back of his heel to take off his shoes, one and the other before he sets the pamphlets down on the nightstand and climbs on the bed with you. “So, an interesting idea was introduced to me, and I think you might like it.”

“Oh?” You immediately wiggle into his arms, head right next to his on pillow. “What’s that?”

“How would you like to get married here?” He asks as he wraps his arm around you and tucks you closer to his body. “Right here at the inn.”

“Seriously?” Your head pops up off the pillow and the smile that spreads across your face is immediate, though it drops just a second later. “That’s…that would be a destination wedding, wouldn’t it? Technically? Is that a lot to ask of people?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Marcus has already thought about this himself on the elevator. “Your dad will have to fly anyway, and D.C. is closer than Texas.” He points out. “And I will cover the cost of our bridal party being there. I’m assuming that you still want Naomi to be your maid of honor.” He chuckles. “And I want Madison to be my best man.”

“Is there anyone else you want to be there?” Brushing some stray hairs back out of his face, you search his face for any clue that this isn’t something he actually wants and find nothing but enthusiasm there. “Work friends? I know you love your team.”

“We can invite them, but it’s difficult for all of us to get off at the same time.” Even a wedding in Texas, most of them wouldn’t be able to go due to the way they wanted it staffed. “Especially when we can’t give them an official date yet.”

“I mean…I do love it here.” There are one or two friends from your store that you would want to invite when you eventually have a wedding date, but there is enough management staff to cover your absence if they wanted to come out here for a celebratory long weekend. “And my extended family is a lot closer to DC than they are to Texas, you’re right about that.”

“I think that we should have the wedding we want. Big or just a few people.” Marcus leans over and kisses your head. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But I kind of like the idea.”

“I think,” you press a kiss to his lips and smile. “That I want to marry you. Plain and simple. And this place has beautiful memories for us already. We invite who we want to invite, and no matter who ends up joining us it will still be beautiful.” As the idea starts to sink in, you rest your head on Marcus’s shoulder and beam. “Can we take a look at those pamphlets?”

“Absolutely.” He smiles, knowing that you would love the idea. If he’s honest, the wedding would be a smaller affair, especially since he didn’t have family that would be coming. “You want to look at it now?”

“Yes please.” You can’t exactly reach his side of the bed where he left the pamphlets, but you make a grabby motion at them to make him laugh. He’s already obviously in love with the idea - and you have to admit that being married in the same place that helped him purpose makes your heart flip.

“Okay.” He’s still chuckling as he reaches over and plucks the pamphlets off the nightstand to hand to you. “Look at it this way, we’d be sure to serve your raspberry lemonade if we have it here.” He offers with a grin.

“And we know we love their food.” Which is a boon, considering how picky the Pike-ette can be. “We should take an extra look at the ballroom tonight when we go downstairs for dancing.”

“Whatever you want baby.” He promises. “I like the idea, and there is a less likely chance of someone showing up if it across the country.”

“You’re right, less chance of uninvited guests.” You’re not inclined to believe that his father would show up uninvited to his wedding, of all things, but you absolutely understand that it’s an extra incentive for him to want to get married away from home. Flipping open the first packet, beautiful pictures of previous weddings are artfully scattered amongst information on menu packages and room capacities. “Did they just have these out downstairs?”

“I, uh, the woman from this morning, Alana.” Marcus flushes slightly. “The staff might have been waiting to hear how today went. And I mentioned you loved the lemonade and wanted to serve it at our wedding and how much you liked this place.”

“She’s their event coordinator.” You point at the space in the pamphlet that lists Alana Schoenberg, Events and Weddings along with her email for inquiries. “I think it’s a sign, babe.” Both of you have fallen in love with the place quickly, and you tend to know what you want. Besides, a beautiful inn like this is exactly the kind of place you always wanted to get married. “Maybe we should see if she has time for a meeting before we leave?”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Marcus loves that you like the idea. “Hopefully after the meeting on Monday, I’ll have a better idea about the timeline.”

“You think they’ll have made some kind of progress?” His lawyers have been working hard to get Amanda’s team to settle, but some days you feel deathly certain that all this is going to end up being dragged out in court until well after the baby is born.

“I hope so.” Marcus holds you a little closer and sighs softly. “I really hope so.”

******

The party that fills the inn’s ballroom that night is even bigger and more boisterous than the night before - more people and more dancing going on all around you and Marcus. It’s a joyous thing, and you even spotted a group of friends treating the night as a birthday celebration that had made you both smile. Being wrapped up in Marcus’s arms while the band’s singer croons “Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall in Love”, you can’t help but grin up at him and readjust your left hand in his shoulder. The weight of the ring is still unfamiliar and makes you giddy. “I love you,” you murmur, as though you haven’t already told him thirty times today.

Grinning down at you, Marcus winks. The two of you had ended up napping for a couple of hours before getting ready for the party and he couldn’t even describe how perfect it felt. You are in his arms and the festivities just makes seem like this is your wedding reception. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“I wish we could live here,�� you laugh, swaying in his arms as the song nears its end. “Dancing and good food and nice people. It’s going to be perfect for the wedding.”

“Yes it is.” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek, picking up on your phrasing. “We can get married here, and either stay for the honeymoon, or just have our wedding night here and travel the next day.”

“There’s good beaches in Maryland and Virginia.” You haven’t forgotten that Marcus liked the sound of your beach-vacation dream last night. “We could rent a car and drive outside of the city on a few days if we wanted.”

“We could.” Marcus doesn’t honestly care what you do, as long as you do it together. “Unless it’s cold. Then I want to go someplace tropical.”

“Alright California boy,” you tease, wrinkling your nose at him. “If it’s too cold for you, we’ll migrate South to the tropics.”

“Thank God.” He huffs, winking at you. “Besides, if it’s too cold, how am I going to justify talking you into wearing a bikini?”

“We better be waiting until this baby is born if you want me in a bikini.” The pout you shoot him is fierce.

“Hell no.” As he was apt to do, Marcus slides a hand down to cup your belly. “Pregnant mothers should always wear bikinis and display the peanut.”

“The peanut may be quite a bit bigger when we get married,” you remind him, smiling nevertheless, because the way Marcus loves is so full of sunshine and praise that you can’t help basking in it.

“Just means that more of peanut will be on display for me to love on.” He argues with a grin, caressing your stomach again.

“I know you will.” The smile on your lips curls into a smirk. “Daddy.”

“Jesus.” Marcus hisses softly and shakes his head. “You’re mean.”

“All in good fun, my love.” Your fingers smooth the fabric of his shirt over his heart as the song comes to an end and you swallow a few unexpected nerves. “If you want to change your mind about…what you said this morning, I understand. But either way, maybe we could go upstairs for the night? There’s way too many people around for the kind of celebrating I want to do with you right now…”

Marcus bites his lip, reaching up and cupping your cheek gently. “I’ve been thinking about that all day.” He admits softly, his brown eyes steady on yours. “I want nothing more than to go upstairs and make love to my fiancée.”

You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath until it all rushes out of you at once - relief mixed with giddiness all tied up in a knot in your belly that has nothing to do with the baby. “Then what are we waiting for?” You hum, bringing him down to you for a searing kiss.

Marcus hums against your lips, excitement overpowering the small amount of guilt that he has. It’s only because he’s lived with those views for so long, but he can’t deny this. Not for you, or for himself. Taking your hand, he guides you off the dance floor and towards the ballroom exit leading to the elevator.

It would be so easy to get caught up in the thing if you didn’t care about being seen or being courteous guests, but jumping him in the elevator and getting banned from the place where you now want to have your wedding is not a good plan. Instead, you keep the kisses small in the elevator, holding his hand so yours don’t wander and get you into trouble.

His blood is practically boiling in his veins, now that he’s given in to what he wants, he’s eager to slide inside you again, wanting to make sure that the magic of the night you conceived your child wasn’t just some fluke. That you really were that perfect together. Not that the emotional didn’t matter, but he had been blown away by you and how you made him feel. “I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”

You groan, squeezing his hand as the elevator opens on your floor and practically dragging him out of it. “Dress? What dress? It seems to have evaporated with that tone in your voice.” Anytime Marcus’s voice gets deep and husky like that it’s like the perfect meeting of bliss and sin.

“Exactly.” He chuckles quietly, knowing that you are just as eager as he is for this to happen again. You haven’t pushed him, but he could tell you wanted more from the physical side of your relationship.

It’s been three months of patience and giving him all the space he needs while things have been chaotic and uncertain, but this weekend is all about regaining your certainty. Putting your relationship on the front burner instead of the back. It’s been about privacy and intimacy. And now It’s about the next step in that intimacy. “I have no regrets,” you tell him honestly, as you unlock the door to your room. “Not how fast things started, or how slow things have had to be.” The door clicks shut and you reach for Marcus’s hand, feeling your heart race in your throat. “I don’t regret a single second we’ve spent together in any way. But I have been…really looking forward to this.”

“Yeah?” He’s so fucking grateful that you have been so patient, so understanding on what was essentially his personal hang up. “I’m so fucking lucky I found you.” He praises softly, smiling at you in the most loving, gentle way.

“I’m luckier.” The little game of one-ups manship is almost daily for the two of you, and you grin when he tugs you further into the suite instead of digging into the game. There is something incredibly freeing about the ring that weighs down your finger for Marcus. His hands slide up your back to rub and then back down to cup your ass while his mouth trails kisses along your neck.

Along with the other things that haven’t been happening lately, Marcus hasn’t been handsy - at all. You understand why, of course, because going around smacking your ass or playing with your growing tits while under the same roof as his ex is not only uncomfortable for him but also crossed a very really barrier that he wasn’t comfortable approaching until now. So now, with his hands kneading your flesh as earnestly as his lips seek out unkissed skin, you can’t help but moan eagerly.

Marcus groans in response, loving how quickly you are making sounds for him. He’s replayed that single night over and over in his head on repeat, but this is already starting to take its place as his favorite moment. You are his fiancée.

“Marcus.” There may have been games, playfulness, teasing, before now. And there still maybe more of it in five minutes. But right in this moment all that matters is the wanting. The fact that when you unbutton his shirt tonight you get to kiss and nip every inch of skin you uncover. You get to touch without worry. This man who loves you - your fiancé - wants to be with you and isn’t hesitating.

You are taking him apart, bit by bit and he loves it. Groaning quietly and letting his hands drift under the material of your dress to edge along the lines of your panties. “So gorgeous.” He murmurs. “All mine. My fiancée.”

“Yours.” You couldn’t agree more, and the word is nearly breathless as you pull open the buttons of his shirt as fast as you can manage without damaging the clothing you picked out for him this morning. “All yours.” Somehow you always manage to forget how massive his hands are. How he can have his palm on your hip and fingers sliding under the edge of your panties without even stretching. “Forever. Fuck, Marcus.”

“What do you want, gorgeous?” He asks because as much as he wants tonight to be physical, he wants to know what you need. What you’ve craved while there have been limits on your intimacy.

“You.” It’s honest enough to almost make you emotional, and your hands still on his chest. “I just…I want you to not hold back. Whatever that means.” The memory you have built up of unbridled Marcus may just be a rose-tinted moment in time, but you so desperately want to believe that it was more than that. That the two of you really are as perfect together as you remember.

Smiling at your answer, he starts to walk you back to the bed. “You have me.” He promises. “All of me. I want to make sure you are ready.” He knows you are probably already soaked; pregnancy hormones have been great for your sex drive. But the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

“I promise, I’m plenty ready.” You have to laugh about it otherwise you might end up sounding truly pitiful. Pitiful like the whimper you let out when the backs of your legs bump against the bed frame. “I just — fuck baby — I’m yours. Whatever you want.” Any way he wants to touch you will be bliss, what matters is that he wants to be doing it.

“Dreamed about this for months.” Marcus admits, finding the zipper of your dress and peeling it down. He’s barely held on to his sanity, but tonight is about pleasure and love.

“Me too.” There’s no need to be coy about that, not as he’s stripping your dress off of you and sliding you back onto the plush mattress of the king-sized bed. Like a reflex, your legs part for him, making space for him to come closer. To be as near as possible.

"So good to me." Marcus concentrates on you, bending down and pressing his lips to your knee and scattering kisses up your skin. Needing to make sure you know how much he appreciates the fact that you have been so patient. "Letting me love you and still not give you exactly what you needed." He kisses up one thigh and then presses a hot open mouth kiss on your pussy over the material of your panties before kissing down your other leg.

“Love you no matter wh—what.” It’s a theoretically simple thing, forming a sentence, but the promise of getting exactly what you need has you panting breathlessly at even that small amount of contact. “Goddamn, baby.”

His teeth scrape over your skin and he moans at how good you taste. Just the flavor of your skin as him twitching in his pants and ready to sink inside you. Instead of giving into it, he leans back and starts to strip your panties off.

You want no fumbling or hesitation tonight and reach to unhook your bra, tossing it aside after you lift your hips to help Marcus rid you of that last barrier between you and him. The cool air on your overheated sex makes your clit throb even more intensely and that combined with Marcus’s passionate gaze raking over you has you whimpering all over again.

“Jesus.” Marcus is drooling, reaching down and flicking the button of his pants open for the smallest amount of relief he can get as he takes you in. You were gorgeous the first time he took you to bed, but like this? Wearing his ring and filled with his baby? He could cum right now without even touching you. “So sexy.” He promises, leaning down and dropping a kiss on your stomach before moving up and latching onto your breast with his eager mouth.

“Fuuuck.” Dropping back on the pillow, you squeeze your eyes shut for a split second of absolute bliss before wrenching them open again, determined not to miss a moment of anything that tonight has to offer. Any second you have with Marcus is far too precious not to remember as fully as possible. You’re so much more sensitive now than you were the first time, and it is absolutely amazing.

He suckles and nuzzles your breast, working it into a hard little bud before he pulls off of it with loud pop and turns towards the other one. “Soon these are going to be full of milk.” He coos, tracing your other nipple with his tongue. “Ready to feed our baby.”

“You’re gonna— shit — end up with a pregnancy kink, aren’t you?” Your laugh is thinned by a gasping moan as his teeth scrape over your nipple.

“Figured that out, huh?” He grins against your breast and pulls your nipple into his mouth for a long, harsh pull - as if he were trying to drink now.

That realization shouldn’t be such a revelation for you, but it makes you shiver with such anticipation that Marcus feels it. “Gonna lose your mind when I’m showing for real,” you predict, carding your fingers through his hair and encouraging him to pay as much attention to your tits as he wants. The hardness to your belly now is nothing compared to how fast the baby will be growing in the next few weeks alone.

“Mmmhhhmmmm.” He hums against your skin, not even trying to deny that. His other hand moves over to cup your neglected breast, loving how you are squirming under him, tilting your hips up to grind against him while he continues to tease you with his mouth. He is absolutely going to be the death of you and you don’t even care, writhing and moaning for him like it’s your only purpose in life. And right now maybe it is. Right now maybe all you’re meant for in this earth is to reach down and palm your fiancé’s throbbing cock through his jeans. That would be more than okay with you.

Marcus bucks up into your hand, whining around your nipple. You’ve touched him, but this feels different. This is going to end exactly how the two of you want and that makes all the difference in the world.

The way you chuckle at his reaction isn’t a taunt by any means, but actually a little filthy in how pleased you are. “That’s the cock that put a baby in me,” you coo at him, wanting to see just how affected by your pregnancy his sex drive really has - or will - become.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Marcus’s moan is low, practically growled out in pleasure. “Shit, I— I couldn’t help it.” He bites your nipple lightly. “You were made for carrying my babies.”

“I guess I was.” Each bite makes you gasp in the very best way, not yet so sensitive that teeth are an undesirable part of foreplay. On the contrary - a little pain without your pressure tonight is magnificent. ��Made just for you, love.”

“Yessss.” He hisses softly, kissing your skin to make up for the bites. Even if you love them. “My perfect partner.”

“Fuck, I love you.” Your whole body is on fire for him, taking everything he is willing to give you and still aching for more. “Gonna give you e—everything.” You shudder when he lavishes your tits with unyielding attention, moaning and bucking your hips up to meet his. “Everything.”

“Good.” He loves you more than he needs his own heart to beat in his chest. He knows that now. The past few months have made it clear that you are his entire soul, the part he had been missing. His dark eyes meet yours when his hand slips between your thighs and he feels the slick rush of your arousal on his fingers.

“Oh god.” It takes all the self-control you have to keeps your eyes open, holding his gaze as his thick fingers slide through your dripping folds. It probably is also some sort of hormonal reaction to him being the father of the baby inside you, but you’re so much wetter than normal just knowing that tonight is going be so much more than simple touches.

“Not God.” He teases, moving down and kissing your belly before he smirks up at you and winks. “Marcus.” Two fingers push inside of you slowly and curl up to press against the spongy spot that drives you crazy.

“You little s—shit.” You manage a half-laugh before you’re gasping out in pleasure, grinding down on his fingers to get every single ounce of friction you possibly can, as deep as fucking possible. “So fucking good with your hands, baby.”

“Tonight I’m going to use something other than my hands. Or my mouth.” He promises, unable to resist sliding his tongue down the natural seam of your leg and pelvis, ghosting over your cunt while he curls his fingers up again and again.

Regardless of the fact that you knew that, it still draws a whimper from you as your fingers dig into his shoulders to keep him close. “Gonna make you feel so good,” you promise him, gasping again when he continues to strike your g-spot over and over with his fingers.

“That’s my line.” He nuzzles against the neatly trimmed hair that you are sporting, smirking when he things about helping you trim as you get bigger. “Be a good girl for me and cum.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s not as though it’s a difficult request. Marcus’s skill combined with your increased sensitivity and just how worked up he has you, making you tumble over the edge just a few strokes later. If he was still wearing his watch you swear you would have drenched it with the wave of cum that follows your pussy’s clenching spasms trying to draw his fingers deeper inside your body.

Marcus shudders as he works you through your orgasm, finding it nearly overwhelming beautiful as you clench down on his fingers. “I love you.” He murmurs over and over as you sigh and gasp your way through it.

“Love you so much.” As soon as you can form coherent words again, you’re reaching for him to murmur them against his lips before you kiss him.

He immediately acquiesces to your demand, kissing you and trying to shove his pants down with one hand and then the other as he hovers over you. “Love you too.”

“Marcus…” Even with your eyes closed against the kiss, you can feel him shifting around inelegantly as he tries to get his pants off and you end up giggling against his lips. “We have all the time in the world, baby.”

“I know.” He does know that, but he’s impatient. Impatient to feel you again, to show you how much he loves you and wants you.

“But you don’t want to wait.” You scatter kisses across his skin - lips, cheeks, neck, and shoulders - and reach for his boxers. “Then let me help.”

“God, I love you.” He pants, closing his eyes and letting you strip down his boxers as his cock springs free and bounces between you. Holding himself up and kicking the material down.

“Not God.” You can’t help but tease, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping up a bead of precum with your thumb. “Your fiancée.”

He groans, thrusting into your grip and he would pout at you, but he’s too busy enjoying the feel of your hands on him.

“Marcus.” Even just as a whisper, his name is still a whimper from your lips. Despite him having made the gesture already, already agreed to take this step, you still want to be sure that this is something he is ready for. “Make love to me?”

“Yes.” His agreement is whispered out, almost in prayer. Movement slow and methodical as he lowers his lips to your and slides into your arms.

His hips fit between your open thighs just as perfectly this time as they did the first, the weight of him on top of you pressing you willingly into the mattress as he dedicates himself to re-mapping every inch of your mouth with his tongue. The twitch of his heavy cock against the inside of your thigh makes you groan, wordlessly begging him to shift forward just a little more. To make the moment complete.

He wants to stay right here in this moment, as tortuously delicious as it is. Slowly starting to inch his hips forward, to drag out the sensation and feel your clit pulse when the head of his cock presses against it.

“I’ll beg,” you admit, desperately moving your hips to try to bring him home again. “Fuck baby, I’ll beg if you want me to. Please, love. Need you.”

His moan is filthy, vibrating against your mouth. “Can’t deny my girl.” He huffs, shifting his hips down and spreading his own thighs a little wider as his cock nestles against your sopping wet entrance. It takes no effort at all for him to slide inside you, even just the tip of his length parting your lips has you throwing your head back and spreading your legs wider in invitation. This feeling goes far beyond pleasure. It feels like coming home.

Marcus whimpers your name as he inches inside you. Trying to keep his hips steady and feeling like he’s already going to lose the game when he’s just started. Bracing himself on his forearms gives way to pushing his arms underneath you to hold you close while his hips roll forward until he is buried to the hilt.

Being absorbed in the moment doesn’t make you oblivious of its importance, and you find yourself searching his face for just a moment - checking on him with that silent motion and making sure that this is still what he truly wants. When there is nothing but bliss there, you shift under him ever so slightly, tangling your own arms and legs around his broad shoulders and trim hips to hold him as close as he is holding you.

“Fuck, I love you.” The words are reverent, breathed into your ear as his lips graze it. Closing his eyes and just feeling the way your walls tattoo a beat around him.

“I love you too, baby.” You both shiver, hanging on to each other like lifelines. “S—so fucking much.”

He sighs, taking a deep breath and pulling his hips back. He doesn’t want to rush this. You’re right, you have all the time in the world and he wants to see how thoroughly he can make love to you. Slowly pushing forward, he fills you again, tearing a quiet groan out of his throat at how well you take him.

The way he is so damn slow - so gentle and loving - really almost has you in tears right away. It’s not that the first time you slept together wasn’t meaningful. It’s that this time has so much more meaning. The slow glide of his thrusts are a perfect balance of pleasure and torture, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to moan his name against his skin.

This is probably the closest Marcus has ever been to pure bliss. Closing his eyes and gasping out your name while he keeps his pace steady. Rocking into you like there is nowhere he would rather be, and there isn’t. Just right here feeling your walls tug on his cock as he works himself in and out of you.

Every rock of your hips meets his thrust perfectly, helping you take him as deeply as possible each time. His name on your lips comes in gasps and moans, rambled praises mixed with whimpers of pleasure that never get overly loud because they’re just for him. For Marcus’s ears only. For the only man you’ll make love to for the rest of your life and how you can’t wait to keep that promise and always be his.

Marcus groans, keeping his lips pressed to skin with every roll of his hips. He hates pulling away but loves dragging his lips over your skin. “Love you.” He murmurs softly.

His unhurried pace makes the build of your second orgasm feel like the tortoise outpacing the hare. Where his hands - ten minutes? half an hour? two hours? - before had been fast and furious to tear pleasure from your body, this one will be far more intense from the spellbinding way your bodies twine together with him deep inside you. He watches you, absorbing every tic your facial expressions tell him. Whispering praises into your chin and pouring them into your mouth, breathing them into you. From his heart to your body.

When you do finally fall over the precipice of all that pleasure, it’s with his name on your lips and your body wrapped so tightly around his that neither of you can figure out where you end and the other begins. It’s your fingers in his hair and your jaw hanging open with the beautiful cry of, “Marcus!” into the cool night air.

He groans, slowing down to the point of not moving as you throb around him. Feeling your body shake and splinter under him in the most divine was. He kisses you through it, humming happily as he holds you, finally feeling you start to kiss him back as you relax.

“Love you.” It’s just a whisper, murmured against his lips between kisses when you temporarily open your eyes to gaze up at him with pure love. “So much.”

“I know baby.” He knows that you are in love with him, otherwise you wouldn’t have put up with everything. It’s made you stronger as a couple. “Everything I am.” He vows, slowly starting to grind into you again.

“My everything.” There is no rush in his movements, he isn’t racing toward a finish line. Even if he isn’t moving quite as languidly as he was before, it’s still clear that Marcus fully agrees with what you told him earlier - you have all the time in the world.

You are his home. The way he feels right here, buried inside you, it’s beyond words. He has no way to describe how complete he feels, so he doesn’t even try. Instead he just rocks his body over yours, pressing close and feels like your heartbeats are aligning.

Every thrust presses you into the mattress a little deeper, every hitched moan cracks in just the right away. If the first time you and Marcus slept together was already perfect, then tonight is proof that perfection can be improved upon. Or at least that perfection can exist in multiple forms. Tonight, every time Marcus rocks into you it has a feeling oneness you’ve never felt before and may never again - so you’re going to latch onto it the same way your fingers have roamed down his body to dig into the flesh of his back, keeping him closer than anyone has ever been.

“God, I love you.” He pants out, reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip. “So much baby.”

"So - oh god - so much." As much of him as you can get will never quite be enough, even though right now you would gladly let him absorb every bit of you.

His hand leaves your face, deliberately reaching for your left hand. Threading his fingers with yours and holding onto it. Feeling the edge of the ring press into his skin as his thrusts get a touch faster, more desperate. Needing to remind himself that you are promised to him as much as he is promised to you. Groaning your name, Marcus leans down to kiss you again. “Cum for me baby. Cum for your fiancé.”

It really is that word that does it as much as anything else, and you can't find it in you to be upset about that even for a second. Marcus is a force fully surrounding you, and he always will be - there is nothing but wonder and joy in that. Your fingers curl around his, holding onto his hands like a lifeline and reminding you of the extra weight that he put there. It's almost too easy to fall over the edge again while he steals your breath, swallowing your moan of his name as pleasure shakes through you again.

This time when you cum, he doesn’t stop. Continuously thrusting as he rolls you through it, experiencing every gasp and sigh as your walls flutter around him. Working closer himself until the last burst of your core squeezing him, pushing his own orgasm over the edge.

Soft, drawn-out kisses and satiated sighs are the only sound in the room for a few long minutes, until you reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead and smile. “I love you.”

His answering smile is soft, dreamy. “I love you too.” He whispers in the softest voice he can manage, unwilling to disturb the moment. Leaning in and nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing your lips again.

“I’m marrying the best man in the world.” You murmur, smiling up at him. If the two of you never moved again, this moment would just be perfect - just you and your soulmate, holding each other forever.

“And I’m marrying the best woman.” He kisses you again. “I wish we had met all those years ago.” He murmurs softly. “Imagine where we would be now.”

“Maybe we’d be right here.” The thought is a comforting one, rather than sad, and your smile turns soft. “Pregnant and engaged, just like it was meant to be.”

“We would be together.” He promises. “I know that. You are my— well, you’re my soulmate. I feel it.” He doesn’t feel embarrassed about talking about soulmates even though others don’t believe in them. He does, and he knows you are his.

The hum from your lips is musical, and you press them to his happily. “I couldn’t agree more, baby. I couldn’t agree more.”

Marcus sighs happily and shifts so his weight isn’t pressing down on you, even though he is still off of your tummy. He nibbles on your bottom lip playfully. “Good. Considering we’ve planned out the next forty to fifty years.”

“I figure we should leave retirement up in the air,” you joke, tucking into him in bed and not minding for a second that he’s still inside you. He’s right where he’s supposed to be. “Honestly, honey? I wouldn’t want to plan with anybody else.”

“Yeah. We have to have something to plan later.” Marcus can’t stop kissing you, touching you as you both lay there and cool down.

“I’m excited to spend my life with you.” The tips of your fingers skate along his jaw and brush the angles of his face, committing them to memory all over again. You can never get enough of this man. “Our life full of love.”

______

My Masterlist!

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