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absurdthirst · 1 month ago

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The Rebound {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 28.1k

Warnings: Drinking, despression, flirting, sexual overtures, going home with a stranger, one night stands, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, multiple positions, spanking (slightly), giving Marcus his confidence back, multiple orgasms, post sex snacking, miscommunication, hard feelings, pregnancy, yearning, idiots who don't talk, repressed feelings, childbirth, post baby body issues

Comments: Going out for a drink lands you in the same space as newly dumped Marcus Pike. Sharing a drink and going home together changes both for your lives.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your glass of white wine isn’t that great, but it’s better than the whiskey sour that some suit that looked like one of those Wall Street wannabe bros who had started taking over the happy hours here, sent over with his number on a napkin. The band was playing, although there weren't a lot of people listening, everyone was having their own conversations. Except one.

He’s sitting at the bar by himself. A glass of whiskey and a beer sitting in front of him. You’ve seen him already down one of each, so it seems like he’s on a mission to get drunk. Looking miserable and lost as he stares at the wood grain on the bar top and continuously looks at his phone. Like he’s waiting for someone to call, or hoping they do. He’s handsome. Neat, short, slightly wavy brown hair. Clean shaven, wearing a suit, although the jacket is thrown over the back of his chair and his sleeves are rolled up. Like it’s been a horrible day. You aren’t close enough to see what color his eyes are, but you pick up your wine glass and walk towards him, headed for the empty seat beside him. He looks like he could use a friend.

Marcus looks up as you sit beside him and his eyes widen. You’re beautiful. He doesn’t know what to say. Apparently he’s terrible with women. Teresa dumped him two days ago for Jane and all his dreams of a wife, two kids and a dog in D.C went up in flames. “Can I help you?” He asks, genuine and not rude. Marcus can never be rude. Unless he’s really pissed off.

You smile at him, pleased to know that your theory that he had warm brown eyes was right. They look like they are normally kind, although right now they are clouded with confusion and sadness. “That’s funny.” You tell him, taking a sip of the wine. “I was just about to ask you that same question.” You settle into the seat beside him and turn your body to face him. “You look like you could use a friend right now.”

Marcus sighs, rubbing his cheek, “am I that obvious?” He asks and you offer him a sympathetic smile. You are even more gorgeous when he’s looking at you. “I- I just got dumped and my pathetic ass is trying to find happiness in a beer which I know isn’t the right place but a man has to do what he can, huh?” He asks, picking up the bottle and tilting it towards you.

“Hmmm.” You shake your head and lift your glass to the mouth of his bottle and tap it gently. “Unless there are some serious red flags that I am missing, I have to wonder what kind of idiot you were dating?” You snort and tilt your head curiously. “Because I see a really handsome man who looks like he’s a decent person and…” you lean in and take an exaggerated sniff. “Yep, smells great too.”

Marcus can’t help but chuckle, you are making him feel better which he didn’t even think was possible. “I - uh, she was in love with someone else. I proposed. She said yes. We were gonna move to D.C and then she called me and said she wasn’t coming. I bought a three bed townhouse and she dumped me over the phone before getting with the man she loved.” It sounds pathetic to his own ears.

“Damn.” You wince and shake your head. “You poor bastard. You were the hook character.” He frowns in confusion and you shrug. “You were the catalyst for your ex-finacée and her boy-toy to realize their feelings for one another.” You hate that he was hurt, it seems like he had plans for a life and the confidence to back it up. “An innocent that was sacrificed for their story line.”

You talk about him like he’s a character on a show but you’re not wrong. “Ouch. When you put it like that-” He waves down the bartender, “another round and whatever the lady is having.” He says and you order another glass of wine. “What about you? What’s a beautiful woman doing talking to me and not going out on a date?” He asks, certain that you are taken. Anyone with eyes would be an idiot to not take you for their own.

“Bored.” You shrug slightly. “My apartment was driving me crazy tonight for some reason.” You smirk. “A pizza and re-runs didn’t sound appealing and so I’m here, with you.” You make it sound like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world and you tell him your name. “What’s the name of my new friend?” You ask curiously, interested in learning about him.

He smiles and says, “Marcus Pike.” You love how he says his full name and he bites his lip, “so you’re single? I find that hard to believe. Surely you have someone. Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He questions, knowing that you could have someone at home. The thought makes his stomach twist with sadness but he pushes that aside.

“Unless you count the pet rock named Steve, I’m hopelessly single.” You like the sound of his laugh, his smile is nice and his teeth are white and pretty damn straight, at least on top. You always appreciate a nice set of teeth. The way his eyes crinkle makes you think that laughter is one of the little things in life that he enjoys. “Too busy for relationships.” You admit. “I work for myself and spend too much time doing it.”

His brow furrows, “you must be busy. You gotta be getting hit on, left and right.” He says with sincerity, knowing that he’d be flirting up a storm if he wasn’t jilted but he’d come to realize when Teresa dumped him that maybe he jumps in too fast. “Well, hopefully you enjoy your work and you’re good at it.” He says and you nod, “I like to think so.” The bartender sets the drinks down and Marcus pushes his empty beer bottle aside to grab the new one. “To being single.” He toasts and you clink your wine glass against his bottle.

“To being single.” You take another sip of your wine and then decide to ask. “So what is it that you do, Marcus Pike?” You ask, smiling at him.

He smirks, tilting his head slightly, “if I tell you, I might have to kill you.” He teases and you giggle, “must be top secret.” He chuckles, “I, uh, I work for the FBI.” He confesses, “art department.”

"The art department." You are impressed and you lift your brows to show it. "Surrounded by beauty all day, I'm assuming you must spend a lot of time looking at naked paintings." You tease, giving him a playful wink. "The porn of the ancient world."

Marcus blushes a little, knowing he might’ve spent a little too much time studying those pieces that were revealing too much. “Exactly but it’s…it’s not just one type of body. It’s every body type. All walks of life are depicted in beauty and painted with passion. It’s - it’s not heartless and pre-produced. It’s raw. It’s - it’s emotional.” He says passionately, knowing that the pieces he rescues are worth it.

“I don’t blame you.” You agree. “I love real artwork. Reality of bodies, of beauty.” You shrug. “Sometimes I wish that more people produced something real rather than filling their houses down the latest little trendy knickknack.” You take another sip of your wine. “It sounds like your job is a perfect fit for you.”

Marcus likes the way you talk and the way you look. A normally intoxicating combination for him to be flirty but he holds back a little. “I love it.” He confesses, “it’s tough but so rewarding.” He takes another sip of his beer, “you asked about my red flags earlier…mine are that I jump in too quickly, put my heart on the line, and act like a lovesick fool. What about you? You’re single. You got a dead body in a closet or something?” He teases, offering you a wink.

“Boy, it would be a mistake to tell the FBI about the bodies in the freezer!” You joke, reaching out and giving him a playful shove. “You don’t put them in the closet until they are skeletons. That way they don’t stink.” You snort. “No, my red flags are that I don’t really trust myself.” You admit. “I manage to find assholes. They talk a good game, treat me well to start and then it’s just a classic bunch of lying, cheating assholes.” You shrug. “So I’ve stopped looking for now. Taking a break and just having fun.”

Marcus likes you and that scares him. He just got his heart crushed but you’re making him believe that maybe there’s hope for something good in his life. “So no dead bodies.” He hums, “beautiful. Funny…sexy.” He adds after a pause, “and you don’t like cheating assholes. That’s it. You are too damn good to be having a drink with me.” He declares and you scoff but he continues, “let alone come home with me.” He says that without thinking too much, hoping you don’t slap him and laugh in his face.

You’ve told him that you just wanted to have fun and he’s obviously on the rebound from having his heart broken. This wouldn’t be a permanent thing, but it could be a good night for you both. Maybe a little self confidence booster that both of you need. “My place or yours?” You ask curiously, tilting your head and smirking at him.

He raises his eyebrows at your confident response and he smirks, gesturing the bartender over without taking his eyes off of you. When the bartender arrives, he briefly looks at him to ask to close out his tab, “add her drinks to it.” He says and turns back to look at you, “whatever you’re most comfortable with.” He responds, knowing you might feel better in your own space. He’s not unfamiliar with a walk of shame.

Biting your lip, you reach out and pat his chest, feeling a little bit of firm muscle underneath. He’s not just a suit, but he’s also not a meathead. “I’m assuming your ex spent plenty of time in your bed?” You ask, smirking when he nods. “So we will go back to yours and the next time you go to bed by yourself, you’ll be thinking about how I looked sprawled out and moaning your name.”

He almost wants to ask if you’ve fallen out of his dreams and he offers you a slightly cocky smirk after he hands his card to the bartender when he returns with the check, “and hopefully you’ll leave my bed thinking about how I made you moan my name.” He drags his tongue along his lower lip, “even when you are married with kids in years to come.”

Standing up, you finish your wine and grab your purse. “Why don’t we go find out, Mr. Pike?” You ask playfully. “I need a new fantasy to replay in my head when I’m all along with my vibrator.”

He quickly signs the check and puts his card in his wallet before he stands and wraps his arm around your waist. “You drive here?” He asks and you shake your head, “me neither. Let’s get an Uber and I’ll drop you home in the morning. Or pay for your cab.” He promises, wanting to be a gentleman first and foremost.

Smiling as you walk outside, you turn and press your lips to his. “Green flags so far.” You tease. “Order that Uber so we can get there faster.” You order him, eager to see about making this sweet and handsome man have a fantastic ending to his night. “Faster we do that, the faster I am sucking your cock.”

He groans and fumbles with his phone to order an Uber and when he does, he reaches for your waist, dragging you against him before his lips press against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck and he smiles against your lips for a second until he’s tilting his head to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth.

People coming and going from the bar see you, but you don’t care. Let them see. You moan softly and kiss him back, finding that this man has some passion to temper his sweetness and that turns you on. You press against him and smirk into the kiss when you feel that he’s already starting to harden against your stomach.

His phone buzzes a few moments later and he nudges his nose against yours before he pulls his phone out and looks up, “Uber is here.” He says and looks out for the Toyota Camry. He reluctantly lets you go and takes your hand to guide you over to the car. He checks the plate before he opens the door and the driver says “Marcus?” Your drink buddy says yes as he slides in beside you in the back seat and shuts the door. The driver nods and pulls away from the bar while Marcus rests his hand on your thigh. “You know…I don’t usually do this. I’m more of a relationship kind of guy but you…you make me wanna be spontaneous.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not judging you.” You promise, smiling at him, “honestly? I don’t do this often either. But I think that tonight, we need this. Both of us.” You lean in and nip the edge of his jaw. “And what’s that old saying? To get over someone you need to get under someone new? I’ll ride you and make that reality.” You whisper in his ear before you lick the shell playfully.

He groans, squeezing your thigh and he turns his head so he can kiss you. His tongue slides into your mouth again and his free hand cups your cheek. He doesn’t care that this might affect his 5.0 Uber rating when you feel so good.

You spend the rest of the ride kissing Marcus. Neither one of you starts groping, that would be too much, but the kisses are passionate and promising so much more to come. When the Uber slows down, you pull away reluctantly. “We’re here?” You ask breathlessly, eager to be at your destination.

Marcus pecks your lips, loving the look on your face as he thanks the driver and mentally makes a note to tip the man a little more as he opens the car door and holds his hand out to help you out. “We’re here.” Marcus says, looking up at the townhouse he bought with Teresa in mind. He fumbles for his keys in his pocket and guides you to the steps to the front door.

“Oh this is lovely.” For a townhouse, the place is quite spacious. It reminds you of the old Brownstones in New York. “You must have gotten a hell of a deal. I’ve been looking for a place for forever.” You tell him, setting your purse down. “Reason four hundred and fifty-five that your ex is an idiot.”

Marcus chuckles as he takes his shoes off near the door and locks it behind you when you are in his hallway. “Four hundred reasons so far?” He teases and you take off your shoes to leave them next to his. He looks down at that for a second and his heart aches, knowing they will be there for tonight but he wants to have someone’s shoes next to his for the rest of his life. “You want a drink?” He asks, walking ahead into his living room with the open plan kitchen. This place was a hell of a deal. A tip off from a coworker living in D.C whose friend was thinking about selling so he got the place before it even hit the market.

“Whatever you are having.” You don’t miss the way his face falls for a second and you follow him. “Tonight I’m completely open to whatever you want to do.” You grin when he looks back at you. “Charades, using your handcuffs. I’m assuming you have handcuffs?” You waggle your brow. “I’m down for whatever.”

He chuckles, “I do have handcuffs.” He pours a glass of wine for you and one for himself, happy to have a glass of Chardonnay. He hands you the glass after you sit down on his sofa and he takes a sip once he’s sat beside you. He’s still half hard and he watches you for a second. “Anyone ever told you you have gorgeous hands?” He asks, his eyes dropping to your fingers wrapped around your glass.

That’s a new one for you and for a moment, you pull your hand away so you can look at your hand and the glass. “I can’t say that I have.” You admit, smirking slightly as you take a sip of your wine. “Want to see them around your cock?” You ask, reaching over and sliding your hand up his thigh.

Your hand on his thigh makes his cock twitch in his pants and he groans softly, leaning over to take the glass from your hand and he sets the glasses down on his coffee table. Turning back towards you, he reaches for your hand to place it higher on his thigh as he cups your cheek to press his lips to yours.

There’s always that little fluttering of anticipation in the beginning, swirling in your stomach and turning into slick between your thighs. Kissing him back, you slide your hand up to cup his hardening cock through the slacks of his suit and moan when you feel him twitch and thicken even more. He’s got a great cock, you can just tell. You manage to grip him through the material and squeeze before moving to his belt buckle. He’s gotten dumped and feels down, and you know that a blowjob would make him feel better.

He moans into your mouth when you fumble with the buckle of his belt and he pulls back, eager to help as he reaches down to undo it and you grin, “eager?” He chuckles, “you have no idea.” He is excited by you, by the way you touch him and he wants more. When you unbutton his pans and pull the zipper down, his groan is muffled against your jaw when you reach in to grip his cock. “Fuck.” He hisses as you pull him out and he loves how hot your hand is around him.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes widen and you look down at the thick length that is already red and leaking around the head. “Her new boy toy has to be hung like a fucking buffalo.” You snort, shaking your head and looking back up at him. “Reason four fifty-six.” You hum before you lean in to kiss him roughly as you slide off the couch to and to your knees between his spread thighs.

He watches you with rapture, unable to push you away when you look so hot on your knees between his spread thighs. His cheeks are flushed and he watches as you take him into your hand again. “Fuck. You look so pretty like this.” He compliments breathlessly, his hands turning into fists when you lean closer.

You hum in delight and start to slowly pump his cock. Kissing the tip before you run the flat of your tongue over it. Groaning at the salty taste of his precum. Dragging your tongue around the perfectly cut head and looking up at him as you start to take him into your mouth.

Marcus tilts his head back slightly, groaning your name as you take him deeper and he closes his eyes before he decides he wants to watch you. He rolls his head back to rest his chin on his chest as he watches you, your eyelashes fluttering as your mouth engulfs his length.

Especially the first time you blow a guy, you want it to be good. Nice and wet and slow as you take him deeper and swallow around the head. Marcus looks completely enthralled and almost starry eyed, making you wonder when the last time his ex had sucked his cock. You’ve always enjoyed it, it turns you on, and you can’t imagine he’s the type of man that never reciprocates.

“Jesus.” He hisses as you swallow around him and he reaches out to caress your cheek. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He coos, complimenting you as you suck his cock like you love it. “You like having my dick in your throat?” He asks, his voice raspy with arousal and his cock twitches when you moan around him.

Fuck, his voice goes straight to your pussy and you imagine how he would sound while he’s buried deep inside you. You shift to cradle his balls in your hand gently while you start to bob your head up and down on his length.

Marcus hisses, his fingers curling around the edge of the sofa as you start a pace that has his toes curling against the rug. It’s so good. Teresa never gave him a blowjob. Said it wasn’t her favorite thing and he never pushed her to do it but you seem to love it. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh shit.” He gasps, feeling his balls tightening in your grip as you roll them in your fingers.

He’s about to cum. You can tell and you hum around him, encouraging him to cum down your throat. Sucking a little harder and swallowing around him, you keep your eyes on his wrecked face.

"Jesus Christtttt." He hisses before he falls over the edge. His cock twitches in your throat before he starts to spurt hot seed into your mouth and you swallow around him. His groan is wrecked as he squeezes his eyes shut and nearly rips the sofa cushion.

You swallow him down, trying to keep any of it from spilling out of the corners of your mouth. Working him until he is slumped down into the couch with a soft moan. Only then do you finally let up, pulling off him with a small pop and smiling as he gives a huge sigh.

He inhales deeply, feeling like he’s outside of his body, until he opens his eyes and looks down at you. You have a cocky grin on your face and he growls, suddenly desperate to touch and taste you. “Strip down. Now.” He demands, wanting to see you.

You lift your brow at the command in his voice, finding it sexy and you push off your knees to do just that. Since you had gone out tonight, you had decided on a dress and now reach behind you to unzip it. “Everything?” You ask, happy you had worn sexier undergarments than usual as your dress falls to the floor and you step out of it, revealing your lacy bra and matching panties.

He groans at the sight of the lacy bra and panties, leaning closer as he unbuttons his shirt after pulling his tie from his collar. “You expecting to be going home with someone?” He teases as he shrugs his shirt off and he stands to shove his pants and briefs down his legs so he’s standing naked before you.

“Not really.” You admit with a smirk. “But I wanted to feel sexy.” Your eyes slide up and down his body and you lick your lips. “Fuck, you are handsome.” Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra and toss it down on the floor. “Where’s your bed, handsome? I want you to fuck me in it.”

He reaches for you to drag you against him, his lips pressing to yours as he slides his tongue along your lower lip, loving the way your breasts feel against his chest. His hands slide down to your ass as he guides you to the stairs that lead to the bedrooms in the townhouse. “Upstairs and to the left.” He says when he pulls back, wanting to watch you walk up his stairs.

You smirk over your shoulder, knowing he’s watching you and when you turn back to watch where you are going, you wiggle your ass at him playfully. “Come and get me, g-man.” You tease, starting to rush to get to his bed. This is the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

He growls, gripping the bannister as he makes his way up to his bedroom to find you sprawled out on his bed, a cheeky smirk on your face. He chuckles and strides over to the bed, grabbing your ankle to pull you down to the edge and he leans over you to take your nipple into his mouth, his other hand squeezing your breast.

“Oh fuck, Marcus.” You moan softly, closing your eyes as your fingers dig into his hair. “That feels so good baby.” You whimper. “Bite it.” You don’t mind it being a little rougher and you want to see what this man can do to you.

He follows your demand, biting down on your nipple, his other hand pinching your other nipple and he loves the way you cry out his name. He cups both breasts and alternates his mouth between them, loving the way you throw your head back.

Marcus apparently loves to lavish attention on his partners and you are enjoying it. Your legs pull back, feet propped up on the edge of the bed and you roll your hips up wantonly. “Fuck. Shit, I love having my tits played with.” You admit breathlessly.

He groans and lets go of your nipple, deciding to kiss down your body until he’s kneeling at the foot of the bed, his fingers digging into your thighs as he drags you down until your pussy is in his face. He kisses your inner thigh, loving the way you whine and he chuckles, his hot breath washing over you until he’s sliding his tongue through your folds.

“Yesssss.” You moan, eyes rolling back from the feeling of his tongue carving a path through your core. “God, I-“ his tongue flicks over your clit and your body shivers. “You’re good, Mr. FBI. Fuck, you are goddamn amazing.” You whine, pushing your hips down and begging for more. He’s just as eager to lick your pussy as you had been to suck his cock and your folds are soaked slick with arousal.

He pushes your thighs further back, eyes closed as he flicks his tongue over your clit and groans when your fingers tangle in his hair. He wants to hear you cum. Wants to feel you cum on his tongue so he pushes his tongue deep into your pussy, his nose pressed against your clit.

You keen in pleasure and look down to see him between your thighs. His eyes seem to be smirking when he opens them, well aware of what he is capable of and how he is going to take you apart. Some ego coming out and you find this just as sexy as everything else about this man. “So good, baby.” You praise in pants. “So good, oh fuck!”

Your praise makes his cock harden and he laps at you, shaking his head back and forth as his hands explore your flesh. He laps at your clit and slides one hand up to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple.

You groan in pleasure and bite your lip. Tugging on his hair sharp enough to make him hiss and it makes him double down on his efforts to make you cum. “Oh fuck, I’m so close.”

He hisses into your flesh as you tug on his hair and he loves it. Groaning, he pinches your nipple again and sucks on your clit, loving the whine you give him in response and he knows you’re so close.

Your core twists in pleasure and you are making these little sounds that come out when you are about to cum. “Marc-“ you gasp out, right before your entire body lurches at the next flick of his tongue. “Marcus!”

He smirks against your flesh at the way you cry his name and he flicks his tongue, working you through it as his hands caress your body, his cock now hard and pressing into the foot of his bed.

You moan, your thighs tightening around his head and you jerk your hips away when it becomes too much. “Fuck- fuck baby, come here.” You beg, desperate to kiss him again.

“Do we, fuck, need a condom?” He asks you, feeling desperate to be inside you. He’s aching again despite you making him cum earlier and he hasn’t felt this passionate during sex for a long time.

Normally you insist on it, but right now the idea of feeling him hot and bare inside you is intoxicating. Not smart considering he’s just out of a relationship with someone who might have been sleeping with someone else. You aren’t thinking about that right now though. “I’m safe.” You promise, reminding yourself to take your birth control in the morning.

He should be sensible but there’s something about you that has him throwing caution to the wind. He nods, trusting you even though he doesn’t know anything about you except how you taste and sound. He grabs you, lifting you up the bed to place your head on his pillows before he kneels between your legs. His cock in his hand as he strokes himself while he looks down at you. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs as he shuffles closer to slide his cock through your soaked folds.

“So are you.” You promise, looking up at him and spreading your legs wider. Propping them on his hips as he moves to hover over you. “Fuck me, Marcus.” You beg.

How can he deny you when you beg him? He groans as he notches his cock at your entrance and starts to slowly push into you. Shifting to press his body into you while keeping his weight on his elbows, he hisses when your hot velvet walls engulf him.

His cock feels even better than his tongue. Your head pressed back into the pillow, you moan his name as he breaks you open. Sliding silkily inside you and scrubbing wonderfully against your walls as he bottoms out. “Fuck.” You gasp out. “This cock- fuck, baby, you could win awards with it.”

He blushes as he looks down at you, his lip caught between his teeth until you press your lips to his. “You are - you feel fucking perfect.” He groans against your lips, “so tight.” He moans as he starts to rock his hips, his pace sedate to allow you to get used to him.

“Everyone had to be tight to you.” You huff, turning and kissing along his jaw. “But you’re so deep inside me. Later I want to feel you in my guts.” You whisper and lick his sweat slick skin, tasting the salt there.

He groans as rocks his hips a little harder, pushing deep inside you, and he turns his head to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth and it’s messy but the hottest kiss he’s ever had as you wrap your legs around his hips.

You don’t let him do all the work, rolling your hips up to meet him. Using your legs to push him down into you. Telling him exactly how good it feels every time you whimper and moan into the kiss. He fucks like a god and if it wouldn’t hurt him, you would remind him exactly how stupid this woman is to have left him. Instead, you just try to show him how eager you are for him to be pounding into you.

Marcus groans, rocking into you, and his mind is clouded by you. How you feel. How you sound. How you smell. He’s overwhelmed in the best way and he pulls out of you after a moment, making you whine. He shifts to lay down beside you, dragging your body back against his, and he grabs your leg to lift it over his hip. He grips his cock when your leg is hooked over his and positions himself back at your cunt, pushing into you in one swift movement.

“Fuck.” Your eyes roll back, grabbing onto his arm around you. He’s deeper in his position . He likes to change things up and not just keep to one position. “Marcus.” You reach down and push in on your stomach, feeling him move inside you. “Fuck- that’s- holy shit you’re so deep.” You whimper, loving how the pace has changed, gotten rougher.

He lifts his leg as he thrusts into you, harder and faster than before, his skin slapping against yours and he grabs your leg, wrapping his arm around it to keep it lifted so he can look down and see where he’s disappearing inside your tight cunt. “Feel - feel so good. Taking what I give you.” He grunts, his jaw clenched as he watches his cock push into you.

That cocky confidence he is displaying is fucking sexy. You moan in agreement, panting slightly as he pushes into you again and again. Scrubbing against your walls and making that tension coil inside you and your head rolls back to lean against his shoulder.

He lets go of your leg and slides his hand up to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple as he rocks into you. You moan and your head lolls against his shoulder as you take his cock, and he knows what you need. He slides his hand down to your clit, rubbing circles there and he chuckles when your walls flutter around him. “That what you needed baby?” He asks, voice rough and raspy.

“Fuck yes.” You roll your hips into his touch and shudder in pleasure. He knows how to touch a woman, apparently aware that not all women cum from just a cock ramming into them. “Fuck, you- you’re gonna make me cum, baby.” You babble. “So good, I’m gonna cum all over you.”

“Do it.” He demands, “I wanna feel it. Wanna hear you.” He rubs your clit a little harder and you whine, arching your back into his chest, and he loves it. “That’s it. Cum for me, baby.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder.

It doesn’t take many more thrusts for you to do just that. Stiffening in his arms, you cry out his name while your cunt clenches down around him, soaking his cock in your juices. “Marcus! Fuck- fuck baby!”

He groans at how tight you grip him, how wet you are when you gush around him. His chest tightens and he works you through it with a hiss when you squeeze him so tight he can hardly keep moving inside you. “Oh shit.” You pant and he growls, moving again without pulling out of you. He rolls you onto your stomach and straddles your thighs, his hands caressing your ass as he starts to move again.

“Fuck me.” You beg, pushing your ass up as much as you can with him pinning you down. “Destroy me. Fuck, I want to feel how hard you can fuck me.” You beg, wanting him to just lose control and take what he needs from your pussy. “Use me. Fuck, Marcus. Move baby, please, you feel so good.”

Your words make his mind cloud with lust and he responds by slapping your ass. Your squeal makes him grin and he rocks his hips harder than before. His eyes rolling into the back of his head at how tight you are in this position. The headboard bangs against the wall and he grabs your ass cheeks, spreading them to watch how he disappears inside you.

Your whines are getting louder, punched out of you by every thrust of his cock. His grunts behind you are sexy, passionate as he rocks into you and you wish that you could see what he looks like right now. “Fuck- more-“ you whimper, reaching up and grabbing the headboard. “More, baby.”

He grunts, bracing his knees as he fucks you hard and fast. Your ass jiggles with each move and he grabs onto the flesh, keeping him grounded as he fucks into you like it’s the last thing he will do. He wants you to cum again for him before he cums.

The way he spears into you makes you squeal. The angle surprises you into another orgasm that makes your toes curl and you scream his name this time, another torrent of your juices coating him while your walls pulse around him.

You cum so unexpectedly and that makes Marcus groan, working you through it and the room fills with a squelching noise until you are boneless beneath him. He pulls out of you and shifts to lean back against his headboard, “come ride me, baby. Wanna see you.” He demands, slapping his thigh and his cock is dripping with your juices, still hard and almost a violent purple from how pent up he is.

You moan and wrap your hand around that thick cock, twisting around to suck on the tip for a second and not caring about your juices on him. Marcus groans your name and you quickly shift to straddle his thighs and lean forward to sink down onto his cock. “This what you need, baby?” You coo breathlessly. “You need to see my tits bounce while I ride your cock?”

He nods, reaching out to cup your tits, and he leans in to take a nipple into his mouth. He groans when you start to rock on top of him and he loves it. You’re so beautiful and he can’t believe you came home with him.

Your arms are around his shoulder, holding him to your breast as you rock on top of him. Grinding his cock deep inside you and then pulling off to bounce back down on it. It’s perfect and sexy, wonderful and erotic all at the same time as your finger curl into his hair and you tug on it. “Yes baby, fuck, suck on my tits while I ride this amazing cock.”

He bites down on your nipple, making you squeal, and he chuckles against your flesh as you rock on top of him. He only had a few beers but he feels drunk on you, on your perfume, on your pussy. He hisses when you tuck his hair and pull his head back so you can press your lips to his.

This kiss is sloppier, wetter than before. Hungry for each other as you kiss. His arms wind around you and pull tight, wanting you close and you can’t believe that woman gave up this man for anyone. Your walls are pulsing around him and you purposely squeeze him tighter as you ride him.

He groans into your mouth, cupping the back of your neck while his other hand slides down to squeeze your ass cheek. "You got one more for me?" He asks, sliding his hand around to rub your clit, wanting to watch you cum.

“God- you’re - insatiable.” You pant into his mouth, eyes rolling back when he rubs just right against the bundle of nerves and his happy trail is grinding against your lips. “Fuck- I’m gonna keep you.” You giggle, tightening up in his arms as another wave of pleasure threatens to wash over you again.

Secretly he hopes you'll agree to a date when you wake up in the morning and he continues to rub your clit. It doesn't take long for you to fall apart for him again, collapsing into his chest and he groans. He wraps his arms around your body, allowing himself to let go as he thrusts up into you, his cock twitching violently inside you as he gets closer.

“Cum for me.” You pant into his neck, kissing his pulse and then up his jaw. “Cum for me. I want to see it. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.” You’ve only seen it once when he was cumming down your throat, but you want to see him in all his orgasmic glory as he fills you up. Your teeth nip his jaw. “Cum, baby.”

He groans, eyes squeezing shut as he follows your order and fills you up. He hisses as he pushes deep into you and starts to paint your walls with his hot seed. Your name choked out as he twitches and his fingers dig into your flesh.

You pet and coo at him as he rides out his orgasm. Watching his face twist in pleasure, you plant kiss after kiss on his lips. He deserves it for making you cum three times. “You’re so good Marcus.” You moan softly.

He calms down but his heart is still racing as you caress his cheek and he slides his hands along your back. "Jesus." He murmurs, unable to remember the last time he had sex like that. You brought something out of him he's never experienced before. "You are incredible." He murmurs, kissing you softly.

“Me?” You scoff quietly and grin against his lips. “I don’t know if I’ve ever cum three times before.” You admit, kissing him again. “Ten out of ten, would recommend this ride.” You tease and playfully clench down around his softening cock still inside you.

He smiles and nudges his nose against yours. “You hungry?” He asks, “I can order a pizza or order you an Uber. Whatever you want to do. You can go or you can stay.” He offers, wanting to be considerate to you.

“Perfect.” You moan, rolling your eyes. “You’re fucking perfect. Now I need to see your closet for those dead bodies.” You joke, winking at him playfully.

He chuckles, "go check. I'll order the pizza and get you the wine we left downstairs." He says as he pulls a pair of briefs from his dresser and makes his way downstairs to find his phone and allow you a moment.

You left your panties downstairs so you walk into the bathroom to use it. His house is stylish and tastefully done, although it is masculine. He really is a wonderful catch.

He orders the pizza on his phone and he realizes your clothes are downstairs so he takes them upstairs to you. “You can borrow one of my shirts if you want.” He says, knowing that your dress is pretty but not that comfortable for laying around in.

“Do you mind?” You don’t wait for an answer, just opening his closet and you chuckle when you see boxes still needing to be unpacked. “I’m going to borrow this!” You tell him, bringing out a large, comfortable looking sweater.

He nods and pulls on a pair of sleep pants and he hands you your glass of wine from earlier. He slides onto the bed and watches as you tuck your legs under you after you put his sweater on.

“So how are you feeling now?” You ask curiously, watching as he leans back and you notice the book he has sitting on the nightstand on presumably his side of the bed.

“I feel…good. Not totally over all the shit I’ve been through but you definitely helped.” He offers you a smile and you chuckle, “a good orgasm definitely helps.” He smirks and takes a sip of wine, “how was it?” He asks, biting his lip, and he’s a little curious because he just got dumped for another man.

Normally, a man wanting you to rate his performance would annoy you, most just wanting the praise. This man wants to know that he’s not lacking. “She’s fucking crazy.” You shake your head. “You are charming, sweet, handsome and fuck like that?” You snort. “She should have been running to Vegas to put a ring on it, baby. That was-“ you hum. “I’m going to feel you tomorrow and even when the ache disappears, it’s gonna be a long goddamn time before I forget tonight.”

His answering grin makes you giggle and he’s relieved that you think he did a good job. It’s obvious that you aren’t lying and he smirks to himself a moment later, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I definitely did. You- you’re gorgeous.” He compliments you, “and I’m lucky you came home with me.”

“I’m lucky you asked.” You admit with a small shrug and a smug smile. “I was going to have a couple of glasses of wine and probably go home to use my vibrator.” You wiggle your toes and stretch. “This was much better. And now I even get pizza.”

He chuckles and checks his phone for where the pizza is. “It’s on its way.” He promises and reaches for the Tv remote, “I’ve been watching this series…Narcos? Have you heard of it?” He asks, curious if you want to chill and watch TV with him instead of rushing off.

Your grin is wide and you nod. “Yeah, I fucking love it.” Your brows pinch together and you tilt your head as you examine him again. “You know….you kind of look like him.” You tell him as he pulls up the show. “The guy who plays Peña. Hair’s darker, and he has that porn star mustache, but you could be his brother.”

Marcus scoffs, "even I can tell he's hotter than me. Maybe I could grow a mustache." He teases, rubbing his chin, then he works on getting the show on the TV he installed in his bedroom.

“I don’t know…..” you set your wine glass down and straddle his thighs and run your hands down his chest. “He’s an actor, playing a DEA agent.” You lean in and kiss his jaw. “You’re a real FBI agent.” Your hand slides down to cup his soft cock. “And I bet your cock is better.”

He groans, turning his head to kiss your lips. He cups your cheek while one hand slides down to squeeze your ass through his sweater. “Where have you been my whole life?” He asks, “you’re so amazing.” He kisses you again, unable to believe how good this feels when you met in a bar hours ago.

You hum, leaning into the kiss and you would deepen it if it weren’t for the doorbell ringing downstairs. “Oops.” You giggle, kissing him one last time before climbing off of him to let him go get the pizza. “Do you eat in bed, or should we go downstairs?”

“Fuck it. Let’s eat in bed. You stay here and I’ll go get it.” He says, pecking your lips before bouncing off the bed and down the stairs to get the pizza. He’s back moments later with plates and paper towel, setting the pizza down on the comforter. “So, now are you gonna tell me how you’re single?” He asks once you’ve gotten a slice.

“It’s not a very interesting story.” You warn him before you take a bite of your pizza. “My last boyfriend cheated on me, I dumped his ass and decided to say fuck it, I would stay single for awhile.” You roll your eyes. “My friends keep trying to get me to go to some online dating site, but I don’t like those things, it’s so impersonal.”

He nods in agreement after taking a bite of pizza, “you can’t tell chemistry through an app.” He says and shakes his head, “your ex is a fucking idiot. I hate cheaters. Just have the balls to tell someone you don’t want to be with them instead of cheating and lying behind their back.”

“Thank you.” You roll your eyes and huff. “How is that so hard? I find people attractive all the time, but I don’t have to sleep with them.” You take another bite of your pizza and smirk. “Unless his name is Marcus Pike. I think I’ll name you my Hall Pass.” You tease and shoot him a wink.

He blushes, loving how you have enjoyed your time with him, and he swallows his bite. “Do you want to go on a date with me? Like, dinner?” He asks, flustered but eager to spend more time with you.

Your brow lifts and part of you wonders if this might be a bad idea. He’s rebounding, you should encourage him to be by himself for a bit. But you honestly like him. “That sounds like a hard thing to do.” You admit, taking another bite of your pizza and talking around it. “How the hell are you going to top eating pizza in bed on a dinner date?”

Marcus chuckles, “you’d be surprised. I can be pretty damn inventive.” He promises, reminded of all the first dates he's been on including those with his first wife and Teresa. “Is that a yes?” He asks, biting his lip in anticipation.

“That’s a yes.” You agree, enjoying the boyish grin that lights up his face when you say you will go out with him.

Marcus grins, “it’s a date.” He declares then takes another bite of his pizza while Narcos plays in the background. After Teresa left him high and dry, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel confident in himself but you’ve given him so much tonight. He’s excited to take you out. After you finish eating, he takes the plates and box down to the kitchen and offers you a new toothbrush. “I always keep spares. For me.” He clarifies, not wanting you to think he hooks up with a lot of people.

“Very responsible.” You tease, leaning in and giving him a kiss. “I have about ten under my own sink. Buy them on sale and then I’ve got them to change out and if someone crashes.” You shrug. “My friends. Not hookups. Did you know you are actually supposed to change your toothbrush out every six months? I change mine every three.”

Marcus shakes his head, “I gotta be honest, I just change it when it looks like it needs to be changed.” He confesses with a slight blush and opens his bathroom door. You both brush your teeth in silence, watching each other in the mirror and to Marcus, it’s crazy how easy this feels. He washes his face and leaves you to finish up while he prepares the bed. He has one single decorative pillow that came with the set so he tosses that onto the chair in the corner. When you appear, he pulls the duvet back and pats the space next to him. “Come on.” He orders playfully and he leans over to turn off the lamp when you’re under the sheets. He sighs and shuffles closer when he’s in bed, holding his arm open in a silent invitation and he smiles when you snuggle into his side. “Goodnight sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing your hair and you smile against his chest, “night, handsome.” He falls asleep with a smile on his face. Maybe things happen for a reason.

****

Checking the time on your phone, you sigh. The morning had been rushed, both of you oversleeping and you had decided to just meet at the bar tonight for your date. You don’t even have his number but maybe that’s a good thing. You’ve been stood up. Finishing the rest of your wine, you stand up and sign the bill before sticking your credit card back in your purse. Marcus Pike had apparently changed his mind about dinner and right now, you don’t know if you’re angry or hurt. All you know is that you are going home.

To say he’s frustrated is an understatement. Marcus went into work with the biggest smile on his face, eager to see you back at the bar, when he was called in and told he’s going undercover. “You’re the only person who knows this kind of network.” His boss had told him about the artwork the mafia was transporting. “The assignment will be for as long as it takes. They have been using the artwork as a cover for drugs and arms. We need to find out the source. You’ll go dark until you uncover it all.” He orders and Marcus frowns, “when am I going in?” He asks, thinking he will be told a few days but he hears, “you’ll be taken to a briefing room and given all the details and then you’re in.” Marcus shakes his head, “but I have plans tonight.” His boss says, “cancel them. From now on, you’re Mario Russell.” Marcus swallows harshly, cursing himself for not getting your number so he can message you. He doesn’t know how long he will be undercover. He’s missing his chance with you and there’s nothing he can do.

Sighing to yourself, you hate that you are still out. Wanting nothing more than to be home in the rapidly too small apartment in comfortable clothes and not wearing a bra, you push the shopping cart through the store and groan at the smell coming from the deli. You need the hot wings, even though you will pay for them later.

Marcus feels like everything is a blur as he’s given the details on his assignment, handed his new paperwork and license and memorized everything about the man he is pretending to be. It’s been a whirlwind and he’s sitting in a van, waiting to meet the man who will employ him to assist with transporting the artwork illegally. His contact, a fellow undercover op, is making the introduction and Marcus can only think about you. He hopes you don’t hate him for not showing up. He was allowed to go home for an hour to sort his place out for his departure and he had swung by the bar to leave a note for you with an explanation. He hopes you got it.

****

“Hi, uh, I’m sorry.” It’s been two months since you’ve heard from Marcus and you need to talk to him. You’ve gone to his townhouse, but he’s not home and you’ve left notes. Now you are pretty desperate and thought it would be a good idea to call the FBI. It wasn’t, but you need to talk to him. “I’m looking to talk to an Agent Marcus Pike.” You are nervous, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “In the art? Department? Art crimes? Art something?” You sound like an idiot, but you don’t have much more to give the operator that answered.

“I’ll put you through to someone who can help you.” She says and the phone beeps before music plays while you’re redirected. “Art Crime Division.” The receptionist answers and you gasp, “yes. Hi. I need to speak with Agent Marcus Pike.” You say and she looks through her notes to show Marcus is out of office. “He’s not in office at the moment. Can I take a message?”

You sigh, closing your eyes and nearly about to cry. “Yeah uh, if you could have him call me.” You give the receptionist your name and telephone number. “It’s really important.” You stress.

“Sure. I’ll leave a note for him to call you.” She takes your name and number and hangs up, looking over at the empty office for Agent Pike. The office that has been empty for 2 months.

More time passes. You had left one more message before you had given up. They wouldn’t tell you anything when you called the second time too, just that they would pass the message and you got the hint. It hurt, but you had known that it should have just been a one time thing when you went home with him.

Marcus sighs as he sits in the van. Another exchange. Another night he pretends to be someone he’s not. The target believes he is who he says he is. There’s no risk of exposure, but he’s growing tired of being undercover. It’s been 4 months and his beard is itching. His eyes widen when he gets out of the van after the truck shows up and the man he is looking for arrives. “I want the money first.” He demands and Marcus presses the phone in his pocket, calling his pre-programmed number to bring in backup. The asshole boss that’s put Marcus through the wringer argues about the money for several moments until cars screech into the parking lot. Marcus had managed to get a message back to the office that he was potentially meeting the target and his backup has arrived. The target tries to run but he’s caught and Marcus holds his hands up, acting pissed that he’s getting arrested even though he will be released as soon as he’s away from the scene. He looks over at the assholes in handcuffs and realizes it’s over. Finally, he can go home.

Life has gone on, you are touring new apartments, trying to forget why you need that extra space but it’s hard when you are showing now. That one night with Marcus had resulted in a very unexpected pregnancy and you haven’t heard from him. You stroke your stomach as you look around the apartment you were viewing. It’s a good size but it’s in a horrible neighborhood and it’s just outside of your budget. “No, I’m sorry.” You shake your head and give an apologetic smile. “This isn’t the one for me.” You explain to the agent.

It’s difficult for Marcus to return back to reality. He went back to Texas to see his family and give his final report and that’s when he saw Teresa and Jane. He got closure knowing that he deserved better and he’s glad she didn’t come to D.C. The night he met you - God he still thinks about it - put everything into perspective and he realized he was never friends with Teresa, he never truly knew her. Returning to D.C, he settles back into his home and the first night back, he remembers the note he left behind the bar with his number. You never called him. His phone was given back and he didn’t have any missed calls from an unknown number apart from spam calls that went straight to the tone when he called them back hoping it was you. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on things. It wasn’t meant to be. Maybe he will see you again one day. Just as he has that thought, his doorbell rings and he frowns, making his way to the front door to see who it is.

Standing on his doorstep is probably stupid, but you had driven by the townhouse you had spent the night in months ago. Honestly still a little jealous of the room and the potential for a family when you are struggling to find a place so that your baby doesn’t have a closet for a nursery. You had seen the lights on and now you are angry. Angry that he’s been ignoring your messages and leaving you to deal with this. He doesn’t owe you anything, but it would be fucking nice if the father of your baby knew you are pregnant.

Marcus opens the front door and his jaw drops when he sees you standing there. “Oh my God. It’s you. I- holy shit.” His grin is wide, so happy that you came back and he’s so excited to see you until his eyes drop down and they widen at the sight of your belly. “Holy shit.” He repeats with a gasp.

You snort, thrown off guard by his unbridled happiness at seeing you until the shock of your belly breaks through that grin. “Surprise.” You manage to keep the sarcasm out of your tone, but just barely.

He is shocked but he knows you wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep if it wasn’t his baby. He only knew you for one night but he didn’t get the sense that you’re the kind of woman to pass off another man’s baby as his. “You’re pregnant.” He chokes and his eyes drift up to find yours again. “I- shit- why - how - I left a note at the bar for you.” He spits out, his head whirling.

“I didn’t get it.” You don’t know if that’s a cover, but you hadn’t gotten the sense that Marcus Pike lies a lot. It was why you had been so upset. “Um- I- this was a bad idea.” You admit with a sigh. “I was all prepared to rip you a new asshole and it seems like whatever happened, you didn’t get my messages.”

He shakes his head and reaches for you before he thinks better of it and lowers his hand. “You’ve been trying to reach me?” He asks and you nod. He curses under his breath, “I know you won’t believe me but I’ve been undercover. I- shit. I didn’t even have my phone. I was involved with the mafia so I went dark.”

“Undercover…..” His hair is longer and there is some scruff on his cheeks that wasn’t there when he had taken you home. “For nearly six months?”

He nods, “bastards were tricky to lock down and we couldn’t afford to risk going too early and the whole op was ruined. I- I’m so sorry. I just got back. Today. They arrested them in the early hours.” He confesses and his eyes drop down to your stomach again, “and I - wow. You really have that glow.”

“Look- I don’t-“ you sigh softly, at a loss for what to do now. “Can I come in and we talk?” You ask, feeling a little vulnerable out here on his front step. “Unless…”

He shakes his head, "come in." He steps aside and you walk past him while he shuts the door behind you. His heart is pounding and he can't believe this is happening but he's not upset. Freaking out but not angry. "You must hate me. Thinking I got you pregnant and ghosted. You, uh, want some water?" He asks, wanting a whiskey but that would be rude.

“Sure.” You huff out a small laugh. “I would really love a drink, but that isn’t possible right now.” Your hand rests on your little bump. “Although you look like you need one.” You admit as you follow him into the townhouse. “So- uh, the baby is yours. If you want, we can do an in utero paternity test in about three weeks.” You offer. You don’t expect him to just accept your word for this. “And I’m sorry, I guess that two percent caught us with our pants down. Literally.” You snort.

Marcus shakes his head, “this isn’t your fault. I know - we were both there and I said it was okay. Accidents happen and we are both adults. You’re six months along. Did you - did you consider…?” He doesn’t know how to word it without it sounding like he wishes you had gotten an abortion but he wonders why you kept a baby you conceived with a virtual stranger.

“No.” You shake your head and swallow harshly. “I’m, uh- I’ve been told since I was younger that my chances to have a baby were going to be slim.” You shrug and rub your hand over your stomach again. “I couldn’t imagine terminating. Even if it’s not the best case scenario.” You look up at him, “and if you don’t want to be involved, I’m not going to expect anything. I just….wanted you to know.”

He nods in understanding and your face falls, “I want to be involved. This is our child. I’m so sorry I haven’t been here but I’m here now and I’m going to be their father. We can figure everything out.” He promises as he pours two glasses of water and hands one to you. “Have you got everything you need? I want to pay for it. Crib. Stroller. It’s - I have missed so much already.”

You shake your head. “Right now, I’m just having a hard time finding an apartment.” You admit. “The market sucks and I live in a one bedroom that is tiny.” You take a sip of the water.

Marcus frowns, not liking that. “Move in here.” He offers after a moment, not wanting you to have his child living in a one bed or something in a shitty area. He’d never forgive himself and he can’t allow it when he has a perfect home for a child.

You hadn’t come here to beg for a place to live. “Marcus, I can’t do that.” Your eyes widen and you hate yourself for immediately loving the idea. “This is your house.” You remind him. “You don’t want that, you barely know me.”

“It’s my house and it’s too big for just me. I know we barely know each other but I want to change that. I want to be there for our child. Please. Let me - let me be there now. Move in. You can have a room and we can decorate a nursery.”

You shouldn't, you feel like you are taking advantage of him. Biting your lip, you know that this is the best option that you have right now. There is nothing out there that is safe and affordable for you to have your baby live. Plus, it would give Marcus a chance to bond with the baby you will share. "I'll pay rent." You tell him. "That's not up for debate. I won't live off you."

Marcus sighs but nods, knowing he will put the money in an account for the baby. “Do you…did you find out the gender?” He asks, curious because he wants to know how you can decorate the nursery. You don’t have a lot of time to get everything ready.

"My appointment is tomorrow." You admit softly. Glancing at him and seeing the way he keeps looking at your stomach with the gentlest yearning. "Do you want to come? If you can't- I know it's last minute."

He nods without taking a moment to think about it. “I have a couple of weeks off to process after being undercover. They don’t want me back in the office yet so I’m free.” He promises and he can’t believe this is happening but he can’t deny that he’s always wanted to be a dad.

"Okay." You nod. "My appointment is in the morning. They are doing the ultrasound, so I was hoping that I would find out if it's a little boy or a little girl." You bite your lip. "Do you have any preference? Not that it matters, we are going to get what we get."

He shrugs, “I don’t care. As long as they are healthy and safe. I never - I always wanted a child and I can’t believe it’s finally happening.” He confesses and offers you a soft smile. “When does the lease on your place end? We can get your things tomorrow after the appointment if you are ready to move.”

You laugh softly. “I’m month to month.” You admit with a shrug. “I don’t want to put you out though. Do you have furniture in the other rooms? I can pay to store it.” You offer

“Don’t be silly. We can move some things around. I, uh, haven’t really had a chance to furnish everything fully except the living room and my bedroom, a basic guest bed, since I moved in. Don’t really get time to go furniture shopping. Let me organize some movers and we can get your things moved in.” He says, reaching for his phone to start researching. “Just so you know, I don’t have any genetic issues in my family that I know of. We are all pretty healthy.” He says, knowing you have no idea about who he is apart from one night.

“My apartment was furnished.” You sigh softly and shrug. “I just have personal things. So I can buy some furniture.” You smile. “I’ve been saving for all of that, and outfitting a nursery.”

“I planned on a guest bedroom set up, so you don’t need to buy bedroom furniture and for the nursery…I want to buy that.” He says, “let me do something since I haven’t been here for six months.” He pleads softly, “I want to do right by you and our baby.”

You can’t deny him when he is begging to be involved. “If you want, why don’t we go shopping together after the appointment?” You offer quietly. “I took the rest of the day off of work to look at apartments, but I guess I don’t need to now.”

“Good. Yeah. Let’s do that.” He grins and looks back at his phone, “I’ll find a mover that can help us and get you in here.” He smiles, heart thumping, and he’s nervous but the shock is receding. “You hungry?” He asks, knowing he could eat and he wants to care for you.

“I’m always hungry now.” You admit with a small grin. “Can you tell me about your time undercover?” You ask. “I had called and left messages at your office. I thought-“ you shrug. “I just thought you were blowing me off.”

He shakes his head and leans against the counter, “I promise you this isn’t an excuse. I can get my boss to vouch for me. I am newer so I was the only guy for the job as the mafia bosses know our team pretty well here in D.C. they were smuggling painting - rare paintings - out the country stolen from private homes and concealing drugs and guns so I had to go undercover to get involved, figure out their suppliers. The shipment pattern. How they evaded the law. It was…intense. I didn’t hear my real name until I got back to the Hoover building.”

“I believe you.” You admit. He has no reason to lie, he has no reason to do anything for you. Yet he is moving you in and wanting to take responsibility for the child you created together. “I’m not ready to throw something at you anymore.”

Marcus offers you a soft smile, "good. I, uh, I just got back so I don't have any groceries. We can pick up some things tomorrow when we are out. For now, I can order something. You want Chinese food?" He asks, his stomach growling. You groan and he chuckles, handing you his phone, "pick what you want, sweetheart."

You open the app and quickly pick out a meal and hand his phone back to him. “So I guess this isn’t the night that you had expected to have.” You joke. “Welcome home, daddy.”

His stomach twists at hearing that but not in disgust, in excitement. He quickly picks his usual and adds some appetizers before hitting ‘order’. He leans against the counter, "I always dreamed of being a daddy." He confesses and you smirk, making him chuckle, "not like that. I just - most guys want to play the field. Sleep with as many women as possible. I always imagined a family. Settling down."

“And how will your parents feel about you having a child under these circumstances?” You ask, curious about how he had grown up, the relationship he has with his parents. Your own have never seemed to have much of an interest in you. They were just self absorbed and rarely reached out.

Marcus sighs, "they will be surprised but they will support us. They live back in Texas. My dad owns a ranch and always wanted tons of grandkids running around it over the summer. They will be happy to have a grandchild." He nods, "and my mom...she hated my ex. Wanted her head on a spike when she dumped me. She just wants me to be happy and this - this has made me happy."

“You’re happy?” You are pleased to hear it, and grateful. “That’s good to know.” You admit, winching when the baby kicks you. “Quick, give me your hand.” You grab Marcus’s hand and put it over the spot so he can feel the baby. “You feel that?”

His eyes widen as he feels the baby kick against his hand, "oh my God." He chokes, "our baby." He stares at your stomach and his eyes flick up to yours, a grin slowly appearing on his face.

“Our baby.” You murmur, finding him so handsome as he lights up with joy. He really is a good man. “Feeling like they are doing summersaults inside me.” You joke. “And I have to pee all the time.”

He chuckles and caresses your stomach before he pulls his hand away, knowing you probably don't want him touching you for too long. "Don't worry. I am here now for all things baby related." He promises and you nod. The food arrives after you and Marcus settle on his sofa and he asks you about your family.

You shrug. “I’m not close to my parents.” You admit. “They didn’t seem like they wanted kids when I was growing up and after I moved out, I’m like an afterthought.”

Marcus frowns, “I’m sorry. That - some people aren’t built to be parents but I want us to be there for our baby. I’m all in.” He promises as he uses his chopsticks to pick up some noodles.

“It’s their loss.” You have dealt with things as best you could and therapy helps. “I want to be the mom I always wished I had growing up.” Your hand drifts over your stomach again. “And I’m happy you want to be a part of their life.”

He’s pleased to hear you say that. It’s obvious you’ve thought a lot about this baby and he’s glad you’re not just jumping in without thought. He is right now but he knows he will lose sleep tonight going through every scenario. “I’ll be here no matter what.” He promises with a soft smile.

You smile, although you know that he might change his mind. This isn’t fair to either of you and you are practically strangers. “How do you want to raise your children?” You ask curiously. “Are you religious?”

Marcus shakes his head, “not really. I was raised in a Catholic family but my parents never enforced it. I- I believe in God but I wouldn’t force my child to believe unless that’s what they felt they wanted. It’s their decision to be involved in religion. Not my place to force them.” He decides, knowing he thought about this a lot when he worked on a case a few years ago that involved a family who got sucked into a cult.

“Progressive.” You hum in approval. “I like that. I have been studying a lot of different religions, I like to learn about them.” You shrug slightly. “It was never a very big thing in my house, I don’t even know what my parents were.”

He reaches for an egg roll and nods, “so we are on the same page there.” He smiles then takes a bite of the egg roll after dipping it. “So are you- have you seen anyone since you-?” It’s a hard subject to broach but he wants to know what to expect.

“No.” You shake your head. “I felt kind of weird about that.” You admit, taking a bite of your food. “Plus, I never realized how many men had some kind of pregnancy fetish.” You snort. “I’ve been hit on so much since I started showing, but I’ve avoided that.”

Marcus raises his eyebrows, surprised but not entirely at that. You are a gorgeous woman and you are glowing. He has to admit his cock has twitched looking at you in his home. "Me neither. Obviously. I don't - there's no thought about dating. My priority is you and the baby." He promises, not wanting you to think he's going to go out and hook up.

“I don’t expect you to do that.” You protest. “You - I know that this is crazy, but I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.” He hadn’t mentioned trying a relationship with you, so you won’t ask for that. Perhaps being co-parents is the best thing.

"I owe you so much." He argues, "I have been missing for six months. I've missed so much and I want to be the best father I can be. I don't need to complicate things by getting into a relationship." He doesn't mention that he still finds you insanely attractive and he isn't sure he can find anyone to match you if he tried.

“Okay, but if you meet your perfect girl, I don’t want you missing the opportunity because of me.” You tell him. “I know how much you’ve been hurt in the past.”

He sighs but doesn't argue any further and he watches you continue eating. You seem to be starving and that makes him frown, wondering if you've been eating enough. "You want to head home or we can go get your things now?" He asks, wanting to see the place you've been living.

“Um-“ you finish your last egg roll with a sigh of happiness. “I guess we could do that.” You make a face. “I have to warn you, it’s a small, dumpy little place. I was saving money to buy a place but then the market went insane.”

Marcus shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and he smiles at you, "don't worry. You won't be there for much longer." He promises and you offer him a smile that makes his stomach twist. After clearing up the food, Marcus drives over to your place, his eyes widen at the shitty neighborhood you live in. He's heard about so many murders and crimes here from his colleagues.

“Yeah.” You huff out an embarrassed laugh when you see his face. “Now you know why I was looking really hard. I’ve not had problems here, thank God, but I wanted somewhere safer for the baby.”

“Yeah.” He nods, “not the best place for a kid.” He admits and he’s heard horror stories. He had spoken with locals about trying to open an activity center but his idea fell flat to the people in charge who don’t give a fuck. When you’re inside your apartment, Marcus frowns even more at how little you have. “Get what you need.” He orders, looking up at the mold by the window and he twists his lips as he places his hands on his hips.

“I haven’t bought much.” You snort, trying to look at this through his eyes. “But I have a lot of money saved up.” You promise, hoping he doesn’t view you as a charity case. “I was hoping to buy everything new when I found a house.” Getting your clothes together takes some time and you ask Marcus to pack up the few kitchen items that are obviously yours from their better condition.

Marcus watches you for a moment before he works on packing up your kitchen items. Most of this can be taken back in his car and he is eager to get you away from this place despite knowing your circumstances.

You stuff your clothes into your luggage, figuring that was the most practical thing and it was a good thing you had a few boxes already to put your toiletries and extra in. Figuring you can just bring the toilet paper over. Now that things are decided, it looks like you won’t spend another night here, which might be a good thing. “I think that I’m mostly packed. I just need to come back tomorrow for the small things, and clean.”

Marcus shakes his head, "I have a friend who owns a cleaning business. We will get her in here and you can relax. You need to put the baby first, sweetheart." He says, knowing it's not good to be around the chemicals, "I'll pay for it." He says without allowing you to argue as he carries your things to his car to load it up.

“I have a feeling this is going to be a regular thing, isn’t it?” You snort, even though you have to admit that it feels wonderful to have someone care about your wellbeing enough to go out of their way for you. “You wanting to pay for everything?”

Marcus nods, a soft smile on his face, "better get used to it, baby. You are carrying our baby. You are gonna be a princess." He promises with a wink and he carries your suitcase downstairs to his car. It doesn't take long to get most of your things in his car and he watches as you lock up and make your way down the stairs to leave your building.

You can feel Marcus hovering behind you, watching to make sure that you don’t fall. It’s sweet and you chuckle quietly when he gets you bundled into the car. “This was not the way I expected the night to go.” You admit with a small sigh as he pulls away.

He slides into the driver's seat after shutting your door, and he frowns, "what did you expect?" He asks, curious about what you thought would happen when you arrived at his home.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see anyone here.” You admit. “I had dropped by a couple of times, but when I saw the lights on, I wasn’t sure what would happen. I was kind of mad until I saw your surprise and happiness when you saw me.”

He nods and sighs, "I never - I wanted to see you again." He promises as he starts the car, "but I got dragged into the op and I barely had time to tell my parents but I put a note behind the bar. I wish you had gotten it." He shakes his head as he puts the car in drive and makes his way through the neighborhood.

“I showed up that night.” You tell him. “I think there might have been some issue with the servers or bartenders or something.” You shrug. “It is in the past. It’s not like you could have contacted me while you were undercover anyway.”

He nods, "yeah, but you would've known that I didn't stand you up." He says and navigates the roads back to his townhouse. "It's been - this year has been a whirlwind for me." He admits with a huff and a shake of his head.

“Engaged, moving to a different state, engagement broken, having an amazing one night stand, going undercover, coming back and finding out you’re having a kid with said one night stand?” You laugh. “Yeah you’ve been having a year.”

"And you. Home shopping in a shit market. Knocked up by a one night stand who ghosted you and left you on your own until he was home one day. I can't even imagine what went through your head when you took the test." He confesses, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I was shocked.” You admit with a small snort. “I didn’t think I would ever have kids, but I was on birth control to try to help the horrible periods I have with PCOS.” You explain, knowing he will know more about your health than he probably will want to in the coming months. “And we still managed to create this little one.” You look over at him. “Do you want the paternity test now or when the baby is born?” You ask. “I think we should, just so there will never be any question.”

“I don’t need one. I was there. I know what we did and I am a good judge of character after my job description. I feel like I’d know if you’re lying but if you want to do it just in case, that’s fine with me.” He promises, knowing that he won’t deny that he still has a small inkling of doubt but he is pragmatic and knows that it’s highly likely this is his child.

“I want it.” You nod. “I have nothing to hide and would rather everyone know that.” Your worst nightmare would be for his parents to doubt that your child was Marcus’s. “I appreciate your trust in me though.”

“It’s gotten me in trouble before…how trusting I am.” He confesses with a sigh as he pulls onto his street and he turns to look at you, unable to deny how beautiful you are. “You really have that pregnancy glow.” He compliments you.

“Thank you.” You smile and reach out to touch his thigh. “I promise that you won’t ever have any reason to be burned by trusting me.” You promise. “And if for some reason, you feel that changes, talk to me.”

He offers you a smile and pulls up outside his townhouse. “Take my keys and get settled. Alarm code is 1975 and I’ll get started on bringing your things in and up to your room.” He says, reaching for your hand to squeeze it until he lets go.

“Thank you Marcus.” You murmur softly. “I know you don’t have to do this, but I do appreciate it.”

He puts the car in park and turns off the engine, watching you get out of the car and make your way up the few steps to the front door with his door key. He will have to get you a key from the spares he has. He grunts as he gets out and starts carrying your things into his home, now your home.

****

The nurse calls out your name and you tap Marcus’s arm. “That’s us.” You grunt, pushing out of your chair and he quickly scrambles to his feet after you. He's been jittery and nervous all morning and you hope it’s excitement and not regret. “Now, I’m trusting you not to go blabbing my weight.” You huff playfully as you follow the nurse to the little area where she will take your weight and blood pressure. “I am growing a kid.”

The nurse chuckles as Marcus averts his eyes to be polite as she weighs you. “It’s our secret.” She winks, “and hopefully daddy is keeping baby fed.” She looks at Marcus and he smiles, his chest tightening as he hears the title for the first time from someone else. “He’s feeding me up.” You wink at Marcus and he chuckles as you step off the scales and the nurse starts to check your blood pressure.

After the test is done, she guides you into a private room. “Gown is on the table.” She knows you are aware of the routine. “The doctor wants to check your cervix, so panties off.” She reminds you and closes the door. “Uh-“ you look over your shoulder at Marcus. “You don’t have to cover your eyes. It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before. It’s just a lot bigger in the middle now.”

He nods, nervous and he wipes his hands on his pants as he sits down on the plastic chair and he bites his lip while you take your shirt off. He looks over at the stock photo of the Washington Monument as you undress, wanting to be considerate.

You glance back at him and giggle slightly, amused and touched by his consideration. “Do you want to be in the delivery room?” You ask, wondering his thoughts on that. Maybe he wouldn’t want to be present, but you want to ask.

He nods, “absolutely. If you want me there.” He adds, not wanting to assume that you want him in the room. “It’s our baby. I want to be there with you and be there for the moment they come into the world.”

“I don’t mind you being there.” You promise, stripping down and slipping the gown on with the opening to the front and climbing up on the table to spread the little paper blanket over your lap. “It’s safe to stop staring at the poster now.” You tease.

He turns his head and blushes slightly at all the posters and diagrams of the female body. He’s not prudish but this is outside of his comfort zone, especially when he’s here as the father. The doctor comes in with a smile, “hello mama. How are we doing?” She asks, reaching for the rubber gloves from the box on the wall.

“Feeling like I have to pee every thirty seconds.” You admit with a laugh. The doctor had stressed how important it was to be hydrated and you started carrying a water bottle around with you at all times. “This is Marcus.” You introduce him to the doctor. “He’s, uh, the father.”

Her eyes widen before she composes herself. Marcus shifts, rubbing his hands on his pants, “I, uh, I’ve been out of town for months and I just found out so, uh, yeah. Making up for missed time.” He chuckles awkwardly, watching as the doctor touches your bump over the gown.

“Any spotting?” The doctor asks. “Even after intercourse?” You shake your head. “No.” It’s easier to just say no than to explain you haven’t slept with Marcus again. She hums and nods as the nurse takes notes. “Ohh they are active.” She chuckles when the baby kicks against her hand. “Well, are we ready to see if we can determine if you have a little boy or girl?” She asks, looking between you and Marcus. “Oh yes. I want him to hear the heartbeat too.” You had cried the first time you heard it and you want Marcus to be able to experience that as well.

Marcus is anxious and nervous as he sits, waiting as the doctor opens your gown and he swallows harshly at the sight of your bump. He wants to touch it without the barrier of clothing but he knows that’s inappropriate. He averts his eyes again when the doctor puts your legs up so she can inspect your cervix and he only looks when the doctor chuckles and says “I’m sure you’ve seen it before, daddy.” The doctor grabs the ultrasound wand and you look over at Marcus, holding your hand out, “come here, daddy.” You tease and he stands up, shifting closer to you and his heart thumps as he waits to hear the heartbeat for the first time.

You don’t look at the screen this time. You are watching Marcus as the small screen takes on the shape of a blob and it’s a second before the rapid pulsing beat of a heart coming through, sounding like it’s underwater, which it technically is. You see the tears pool in his eyes and you grab his hand and squeeze. “Our baby.”

He inhales sharply, his chest tightening as he stares at the screen like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen in his life. “Our baby.” He chokes out as tears escape and slide down his cheeks. “Our baby.” He repeats and kisses the back of your hand. “Thank you.” He murmurs, knowing you could’ve made a different decision and you would’ve been within your right to do so but this decision gives him what he’s always wanted: To be a father.

You bite your lip and reach up to wipe away your own tears. You’ve always wanted a baby, to be a parent and that’s going to happen. Even better it will be with a man who apparently wants it just as badly as you do. “Are mom and dad ready to find out the sex? The doctor asks as she focuses on the baby in your stomach and tries to get into a position with the wand to get a good look.

Marcus looks at you and you nod, squeezing his hand, “we are ready.” Marcus bites his lip, eager and anxious to find out. He truly doesn’t mind either way. Just wants a healthy and safe baby. The doctor moves the wand around a little more until she grins, pointing at the screen. “That’s your little girl.” She smiles and Marcus grins, a sob escaping his lips. “Our little girl.” He chokes, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead before he can think better of it.

“Our baby girl.” You murmur softly, emotional and wishing you could kiss Marcus for real. Instead, you squeeze his hand and grin at the screen. The doctor will give you pictures and you can show Marcus the others you have already gathered. “Now we have to figure out nursery themes.”

Marcus chuckles, “you pick. I build and decorate.” He says and the doctor chuckles, “you got a good one there. He knows the drill.” She winks at Marcus who flusters at the compliment, wanting to be the best dad he can be. “I’ll print off some copies and you can get dressed. Everything looks good, mom and dad.” She smiles and presses some buttons to print copies before she puts the machine away, leaving you to get dressed after she shuts the door. “Can you-?” You ask, needing help off the table, and he nods, taking your hand to help you down.

Marcus bites his lip and shuffles slightly. “Can I- uh, touch your stomach?” He asks softly. “Without- without the clothes?” He knows you might tell him no, but he wants to be as close as he can to his child. “Of course.” You are still wearing your bra and you immediately bring his hand to your stomach, his bare skin touching yours. “You can touch my stomach anytime. You can talk to her, cuddle with her.” You smile. “I want her to know your voice too.”

“Our girl.” He grins and caresses your stomach, he’s so happy you are allowing him to touch you. “She’s gonna be beautiful. Just like her mama.” He says, his eyes flicking up to you and you do look gorgeous. Part of him wishes he could kiss you but he knows he’s emotional and that’s not the right thing to do. He shifts to kneel down, cupping your belly and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your skin, “you’re already so loved, baby girl. Mama and I are gonna be the best parents we can be.” He promises her in a soft voice.

He’s such a good man. Your heart melts when you see him talk to your belly with the softest, most loving voice. He’s going to be such a good daddy and it makes you tear up. “Yes we are.” You promise thickly and smile when he looks up at you. “Gonna give her everything we can.”

“Why don’t we get some food and stop by the baby stores?” You suggest. “Start putting together the nursery?”

He nods, agreeing to that idea and you dress before you head out to set your next appointment. The nurse hands you an envelope with the scans in and Marcus wants to take your hand to guide you outside but he settles for his hand on your lower back.

“Let me buy you lunch?” You offer, almost certain that he will not let you. “You bought dinner the last two times we have eaten together.”

He sighs, not wanting you to pay when you’re carrying his baby but he nods, knowing it’s best to let you win sometimes. He hates how this could so easily be a relationship but he hardly knows you and it would be risky to jump in when you are going to be co-parents. “Lunch then you can use my card for baby things.” He winks.

You snort and lift a brow. “I hope you’ve got the credit line.” You tease. “While I wish I could have sushi, how do you feel about that salad place?” You ask. “I’m feeling like a big salad and maybe some soup.” You decide. “Oh and a cookie.”

Marcus nods, “whatever you want, sweetheart. You are growing our baby girl. You can have whatever you like.” He promises and he guides you out to the car. “And when she’s born, you’ll have as much sushi as you want.”

“Right in the delivery room.” You snort, practically drooling at the idea. “Just a huge platter.” You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters when he calls you sweetheart. “But for now, I can’t risk it. And she’s worth it.” You coo, rubbing your hand on your stomach.

He grins, “biggest platter they sell.” He promises, “and deli meat.” He chuckles and guides you out to his car, his hand hovering over your back as he unlocks the car and opens the door for you. This feels so real now. He’s having a daughter.

“Now you’re talking.” You groan. “I never knew what all went into a pregnancy diet and I am not amused. Charcuterie boards are sometimes all I live off of.” You joke. “Although I have been eating more ice cream.”

“Isn’t that known online as girl dinner?” He teases, knowing his coworkers have joked about cheese and meat being ‘girl dinner’ like it was dubbed online. You chuckle, surprised he knows about that, and he smiles, pleased that he made you laugh.

“What does your boy dinner look like?” You ask when he gets behind the wheel. “Lazy, easy meal? Are you just an order take out kind of guy?”

He lifts his shoulders playfully, “yeah. I - I like…I kinda like gas station hot dogs.” He admits with a wince, “my dad - we used to go on the road for the weekend fishing and he couldn’t cook for shit so we’d stop off and in the middle of nowhere, it was sketchy diner food or gas station food so I kinda got used to gas station hot dogs. I want one every now and then.” He admits, knowing it’s not the best food.

“Hot dogssssssss.” You groan and nod. “The shitty gas station roller dogs are the best. I’ll even risk the chili for a chili cheese dog with onions and relish.” You agree. “I could have the all beef ones.” Your eyes light up. “Ohhhhh.”

He grins, amazed that you aren’t grossed out. Teresa definitely was when he said he had a late night craving after a show he took her to. “You wanna get one?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Let’s do it!” You nod eagerly. “Do you know where to get the nastiest, best hot dog?” You ask him. “I want that and a Sprite. Ohhhh and some Cheetos.”

Marcus chuckles, “your wish is my command, milady.” He bows his head and after you’re settled in his car, he takes you to a gas station across town that has what he swears is the best damn hot dog. All beef and typical gas station.

“Ohhhh they have slushies.” Your mouth waters when you walk in. “I know it’s pure sugar, but I love a blue raspberry slushie.” You admit as you walk into the gas station and see the machines lining the back of the store.

"Get one baby. You're pregnant." He says, having seen that you are cautious with what you eat and you deserve a treat. He walks over to the hot dog roller and asks you what you want.

"I might regret it, but I want chili, cheese, onions, relish and mustard." You list off. "Ooooh and ketchup." You bite your lip and shoot him a grin before you're quickly moving over to the slushie machine.

He nods, working fast to put your hot dog together and he sets it aside while he gets his own, watching you create a multi color slushy. Shit, it would be so easy to fall in love with you. He's pretty sure he's halfway there but he can't do it. He needs to control his emotions and not jump in. He has to think about his daughter and co-parenting peacefully. He can't fuck this up.

Happy with your mixed drink, you are sucking on it with enthusiasm when you come back over to find Marcus has made you the perfect chili dog. “God, you’re perfect.” You groan. “Another reason on the list justifying that your ex was insane.” You bite your lip after the comment comes out. “Sorry, I- I shouldn’t have said that.”

Marcus shakes his head, "it's okay. I- I am over her. Four months undercover kinda gives you a fast track to get over heartbreak. Well, and a one night stand." He offers you a wry smile, "you want a Sprite?" He asks and you nod so he heads over to the soda machine to get your drink.

You grin as he remembers the drink, even though you have the slushie in your hand. Walking by the chips, you grab a bag of Cheetos and bring it up to the counter. “Get something else too!” You call back across the store.

He grabs some candy and some pringles, scanning the aisle until he appears at the cash register with your food. The attendant chuckles when she sees you are pregnant. "I remember the cravings. I ate an entire lemon once. Rind on." She shudders, "but it's all worth it in the end." She says with a smile, "and you two are a gorgeous couple. You are gonna make a cute baby."

You can see Marcus doesn’t know how to answer that but you just smile as you pull out your wallet. “Thank you.” You tell her. “We just found out that we are having a little girl and we are over the moon.” You look over at Marcus. “After this feast of junk food, we are going to go pick out alllllll the baby things.”

The woman grins, "oh daddy...your wallet is gonna hurttt." She sings playfully and Marcus chuckles, "oh I know but she's worth it. They both are." He smiles at you and she coos, "you got a good one." She winks and Marcus flusters, picking up your food. "Thank you." You say and the woman grins, "congratulations." She says and you thank her again before you leave the gas station. "She's right, you know." Marcus says when you're back in the car, food balanced on his console. You turn to look at him, tilting your head. He continues, "our little girl is going to be gorgeous...because she's going to look like her momma."

“You’re just lucky you haven’t seen me hanging over the toilet bowl looking like a death warmed over witch.” You joke, enjoying the little flutter in your chest at his compliment. “But I hope she looks like a good mix of both of us. You are a very pretty man yourself.” You wink at him playfully.

Marcus can’t help but fluster, cheeks reddening at your compliment and he takes a sip of his soda to cover his embarrassment. “She will be a looker. Good thing I have my gun.” He jokes and picks up his hot dog after he sets his soda down.

You snort. “You can’t shoot all the boys.” You remind him playfully and quickly pick up your hot dog to take a bite, “cheers for the heartburn that will be completely worth it.” You joke before taking a bite and groaning happily.

He grins as you take a huge bite, loving how happy you look right now and he’s glad he could do that for you. Provide for you. “God that’s so good.” He groans, taking his own bite and he knows this is so bad but it’s so good, bringing back memories.

“Soooooo good.” You wiggle in the seat a little, doing a little happy dance as you take another bite. “This is going to become a problem.” You groan. “I can see craving this every day. Or maybe every week so I don’t live off Tums.”

Marcus chuckles, “I'm at your command. Just tell me the craving and it’s yours.” He promises and you giggle, “except sex.” Marcus’s chuckle turns a bit stiff and he hates the air that suddenly covers you. He really does like you. Thinks about that night together quite a lot but you are co-parents. That’s all. “Any food item.” He clarifies playfully, “or drink.”

You nod, understanding the boundaries that Marcus is setting. You want sex, you crave it, but obviously he’s not going to want a sexual relationship with you now. “I’ll try to keep the cravings between business hours.” You tease, reaching for your slushie to take a sip.

Marcus chuckles, “any hour for a craving.” He promises that and watches as you take a sip of your slushie. “I’ll do whatever you want for our girl.” He promises and you hum, not wanting to answer when it’s clear he doesn’t feel the same way.

****

“What about this one?” Marcus asks, walking over to a crib that he likes. You’ve already picked a stroller and a high chair. His parents had offered to buy some things after he broke the news and he wants to do a video call with them so they can officially meet you.

“Oh that’s sweet.” You are emotional, and have already cried over how cute some of the clothes are. The hormones and the nesting urge is starting to get to you now that you have realized that you aren’t alone anymore. “This one also becomes a toddler bed.” You show him the mention on the paperwork. “That could be good as she grows older.”

Marcus nods, liking to be practical. “That’s great. God, how are we gonna handle a toddler?” He asks with a chuckle, “I can already tell I’m going to go gray early.” He smirks and his eyes watch as you read the price. “Don’t worry about the price.”

“I didn’t think a bed would be so expensive.” You snort and shake your head. You have money, but Marcus doesn’t seem to be too worried about everything. “Oh, um, can we run by a clothing store?” You ask. “My pajamas are getting too tight and I think I’m just going to get some nightgowns.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” He promises, using the scanner the store gave you to scan the bed you want so it can be delivered. He saved a lot of money preparing for a wedding to Teresa and he’s only too happy to spend it on his daughter instead. He’s excited to become a father and today has made it even more real.

“Do you think you will have paternity leave?” You ask, unsure of the FBI’s policies and what they are doing for new fathers. “Although I’m sure they will be surprised that you are suddenly expecting a baby.”

“I spoke to my boss this morning and he said I get six weeks of paternity leave. Apparently the FBI wanted to keep morale high and changed the policy so I’m here for overnight diaper duty.” He teases and scans some bottles you’re picking up.

“That’s good.” You laugh. “We can be sleep deprived together.” Marcus grins as if the idea of no sleep and dirty diapers sounds like the best kind of work to look forward to. “So seriously. What do you think about me pumping? So you can feed her too?” You ask, stopping at the pumps and turning to get his opinion.

You’d talk about wanting to breastfeed and he supported you in whatever decision you want. He was bottle fed and it didn’t do him any harm. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. I’m happy to feed her if you want to pump.” He offers you a soft smile and he’s excited, loving shopping for the baby things. “We need to pick out a paint too so I can get started on painting her nursery.

You bite your lip, imagining him rolling the walls, and trying not to let your neglected libido take over. "How about a neutral soft color?" You ask. "Like a buttery yellow or a light green?"

“Whatever you want, baby.” He promises as he reads the label for the pump before he scans it, his mind focused on that and not what he calls you as he picks out the best for your baby girl. “I’ll get the paint this weekend so it’s ready for the furniture delivery.”

"This is coming along quicker than expected." You admit, happy that Marcus is a take charge and get things done kind of guy. "Ohhh we need to get a monitor system. Maybe see if they have one that has a camera?"

“I heard the Nannit is a good one.” He says, walking along with his scanner, “they’re not cheap but it’s peace of mind. It has an app.” He says, knowing his coworker told him about it and it sounds like the best.” He scans it without thinking and you continue picking things out. This feels real to him. Like a real relationship, and it’s scary. He can’t lose you or his baby girl but he can’t risk telling you that he wants more. He will settle for what he has. It’s more than he thought he’d ever get.

"Wow." You are impressed and your face tells him that. "You've really done your homework." You smile and nod. "Okay, but why don't I buy that?" You ask. "Since you are buying all the furniture? I think that's fair."

He knows he doesn’t want you to feel inadequate so he nods, “sure thing, sweetheart.” He is excited to be the best dad he can be. “Come on, let’s go get this paid and ordered and then we can get you some sexy nightgowns.” He teases, knowing you want to be comfortable.

Laughing, you shake your head. “Yep, gonna be the sexiest beached whale this side of the Atlantic.” You joke, rubbing your hand over your growing stomach. “It’s starting to get in the way of tying my shoes. I’m going to have to switch to just slip ons.”

Marcus chuckles, “we can get those too.” He promises and you smile, making his heart flutter.

****

Marcus wipes his brow as he bends over to put more paint on the roller. He’s finally taken his shirt off, sweat beading on his skin as he works hard. The D.C summer is in full swing and his AC is working overtime while he puts the nursery together.

“Marcus, do you want-“ you stop short, a drink in your hand and drool. Marcus is still handsome, but apparently he had been working out while he was undercover because the softness of his body from before had become lean muscle. Your baby daddy is sexy and it’s even sexier that he has a paint roller in his hand as he paints the nursery. “I made some lemonade.” You manage when he turns towards you. “Figured you might need a drink?”

Marcus nods, “Thank you. It’s been kille in this heat.” He admits, “and wearing a damn suit and tie still during the week.” He goes into the office and he’s working hard to set up his paternity leave and make sure people don’t have too much to do while he’s gone. “Be careful when you get in there.” He says, “I’ll be done in a bit. Gotta wait for this coat to dry.”

"I will." You nod and quickly walk out, the paint fumes heavy and you know that he will not want you there. It would be bad for you and the baby.

Since it's so hot, you decide to just put on your bikini, your bump on display and you are thankful that the little patio off the townhouse is covered so you aren't baking in the sun. Your own glass of lemonade and book are already out there as you step outside to climb into the pool. You bought one just a few days ago to try to cool down.

Marcus washes his hands and wipes his brow after he puts the paint supplies away, needing to finish another coat tomorrow, but for now, he makes his way downstairs to find you in the inflatable pool. His eyes widen at the sight of your body. You were gorgeous before you were pregnant and now? He’s jerking off every damn day in the shower because he is so attracted to you. Knowing you have his baby inside you has him rock hard. “Are you enjoying that?” He teases as he approaches you.

“God yes.” You groan, eyes closed behind your sunglasses as you lean against the edge of the inflated pool. “I could live in this pool.” You admit shamelessly. “Sell tickets, it would be like going to Sea World.” You joke, feeling more and more like a seal or a walrus every day.

Marcus scoffs, “you are glowing and growing our baby. You are gorgeous.” He promises just as his phone dings. He pulls it from his pocket and reads the message, a frown appearing on his face. “What’s happened?” You ask and he sighs, locking his phone, “Teresa and Jane just got married.”

You see the way his expression changes and you wonder if he is still in love with her. “I’m so sorry.” You murmur, reaching out and touching his arm gently before pulling back. He might be wondering where he would be if she hadn’t left him. It could be possible she would be carrying his baby instead of you. He might regret this now.

He reaches for your hand, squeezing it. “It’s not - I’m not upset that she is married because I still love her. I’m upset that she married him when she told me she couldn’t marry me. It’s - it makes it real. The fact that she never really loved me.” He admits and looks down at you.

“You deserve so much more.” You promise him, feeling a little bittersweet because it won’t be you. He’s amazing and exactly what you want. “I told you, she’s fucking crazy.” You scoff. “You are the FBI’s most eligible bachelor and I know you will be a hit at playgroups when our daughter is older.”

Marcus chuckles, “isn’t that a dilf?” He teases and you nod, smirking, “I’ll be fighting all the moms.” You promise and his stomach twists, wishing you would claim him as yours. What he had with Teresa…it pales in comparison to his relationship with you. With you, it’s as natural as breathing and he doesn’t feel like he has to go all out to impress you, you are happy with him being there. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss you but he can’t. He can’t ruin this.

Wanting to lighten the mood, you lift your hand and flick some water at him playfully. "Come join me." You urge him, "the water is cool and you need to rest too, Mr. Dilf."

He chuckles, reaching for the hem of his shorts, and he groans as he sits in the water in his briefs, not caring about changing into swimming trunks when he’s around you. “Better enjoy it while we can. She will be here soon enough and fall will be in full swing.”

"Cooler temperatures will be welcomed." You grin. "Although I think we need to figure out what our little girl will be wearing for her first Halloween."

Marcus grins, “I, uh, I was thinking maybe dress her up as Pebbles and Fred and Wilma.” He smirks, “I loved the Flintstones as a kid.” He confesses, “I’d love to dress up but never had anyone to do it with.”

"Ohhhhh we could do that!" You love the idea, although it would make everyone in the neighborhood think that you are a family. You are, in a weird way, but you aren't a couple. "That's what we will do." You decide with a nod before you take a sip of your lemonade. "The baby furniture should be here tomorrow. They called while you were finishing up."

“Oh good. I just need to finish the final coat of paint but I can do that later.” He says as he lounges in the water. He’s excited to see the nursery finished and he is nervous to become a father for the first time.

"Soon enough, she will be here." You hum, rubbing your hand over your stomach gently and laughing when she kicks. "God, feel this." You grab Marcus's hand and put it on your stomach. "She's a kicker."

Marcus loves any chance to feel her kick and he grins, “she’s gonna be trouble.” He says despite grinning, he’s so excited to meet his daughter.

****

Marcus sits on the sofa, glasses perched on his nose as he reads a baby book. You have been to pre-natal classes together and he’s determined to learn everything he can about his daughter. He hates that he’s getting older, his eyes going as he ages so he has invested in reading glasses.

"Hot dad alert." You are waddling now, having to pee every five minutes and holding your back like it's about to break. Any day you are going to bust this watermelon open and give Marcus a baby, but does he have to look so fucking sexy all the time? You groan as you come around the edge and flop down next to him in a less than graceful landing. "Fuck, she's dropped, she's lower than she was yesterday, isn't she?"

He looks at you with his glasses on the end of his nose, closing the book after marking the page, “she looks it.” His hand finds your belly without permission after you told him he can touch it whenever he wants.

"The bag is packed." You promise him with a grin. "Mine and hers." You lift your brow. "Do you have yours packed, or have you decided to not stay?" You had told him that he could be in the delivery room, but he might not want to stay in the hospital with you depending on how long you have to be there. You wouldn't blame him for that, although it was sweet that Marcus's parents had asked to come out for the birth, or at least when you come home from the hospital to meet their grandchild. They would stay in a hotel room and it was nice to feel like you had a support system since your own parents have barely seemed interested in remembering that you are having a baby. You'd sent them a text and they have only called you once since then. You had no interest in even letting them know when you go into labor.

Marcus adjusts his glasses after pulling his hand away, “my bag has been packed for weeks.” He confesses, “it’s in the back of my car. I bought travel size everything and you are talking to a g-man, baby. My entire job depends on me being organized.” He winks at you, “and my parents are all set. They can’t wait to meet you and the baby. We still need to decide on a name, or some options so we can decide when we meet her.”

"So I wanted to talk to you about that." You bite your lip and reach for his hand on your stomach. "I want her to have your last name." You confess quietly. "How do you feel about that?"

Marcus raises his eyebrows and he grins, “you want that?” He asks and you nod. He inhales deeply, “I’d love that.” He promises, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the back of your hand. He doesn’t mention the thought that comes to mind that he’d love you to have his last name too. Living with you has been so easy. Like you’ve always been here, like it’s meant to be. It was never this easy with any of his exes and that scares him. How easy it was to fall in love with you when you don’t want to be with him.

"Good." Your heart flutters at the kiss and you wish you just could tell him how you feel, but you don't want to make things awkward. "Now, we need to pick out names that go well with Pike." You hum. "What about your grandmother's? Any good names there?"

He chuckles, “my grandma? Her name was Magnolia. Proper southern charm and could tear a man down with a look, let alone a few words.” He says with fondness, “her middle name was Annabelle.”

"Annabelle?" You try it out and love it. "Annabelle Pike." You hum as you look at him questioningly. "How about Annabelle Marie Pike?" You ask, always loving the name Marie since you had a childhood friend with that name.

He wonders how it’s so easy. He knows he would’ve been arguing with his ex wife about this for hours but with you, it takes moments. “I love it. Annabelle Marie.” He coos, caresses your stomach before he leans in to press a kiss to your covered bump.

You smile softly and reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "You are going to be an amazing daddy." You murmur quietly, loving how affectionate he already is with your daughter and she's not even here yet. He will be the best girl dad imaginable and you are so grateful if you have to have a baby with someone, that it is this man.

Your due date is any day now and Marcus is anxious. He's cut back on his hours and assigned cases to his team who are aware that any day is his daughter's arrival day. He opens the fridge, reaching for the carton, and he opens it, about to lift it to his mouth when he reminds himself. He was a single man, the milk carton was his alone, but you told him to use a glass. Not in a nagging way but a reminder to be a damn adult. He smiles to himself and sets the carton down to grab a glass for himself.

Panting, you hold onto the wall as you slowly make your way down the stairs. You have been having pains since first thing this morning and you tried to ignore it, but it's getting stronger. "Marc-" you call out breathlessly when you are halfway down the stairs. You had heard him down here after you went to the bathroom and decided that it was time to tell him. "Marcus."

He sets his glass down, milk covering his upper lip. He licks it off and frowns at the tone in your voice. You sound like you're in pain. He rushes over to the bottom of the stairs and looks up at you, "you doing okay, baby?" He asks and you shake your head, gripping the bannister. "It's time." You gasp and his eyes widen, "it's time. Shit. It's time." He rambles, starting to rush around before he runs up the stairs to help you down. "We gotta get you into the car and get your bags and - you okay?" He asks, his dark eyes finding yours.

“It hurts like a bitch.” You admit breathlessly. “I didn’t- I was hoping it was gas pains.” You admit. “I’ve been -ugggghh- having them for about three hours.” You admit, knowing he will be upset you didn’t tell him sooner, but you didn’t want to panic and go to the hospital too soon.

"Why didn't you -" He shuts his mouth, knowing it's best to not lecture you right now when you are in pain. The main thing is getting you to the hospital. He helps you down and rushes around to grab the bags, "you need your jacket." He says, "and shoes." He says breathlessly, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Shoes could be useful.” You chuckle, trying to catch your breath. “I’ve got my bags in the hallway closet.” You remind him. You both had car seats installed in your cars, you having bought a new one a few months ago because you wanted a safer vehicle for the baby. “My car or yours?” You ask, smiling as he rushes around to get things together. “Yours, right? Your bag is already in the trunk?”

"My car." He confirms, bending down to slide your shoes on, grabbing your jacket next, and he is panicking but you are as prepared as you are ever going to be. He guides you out to the car, opening the door, and he rubs your back as you grip the top of the car, bending over as a contraction hits you. "It's okay, sweetheart." He promises, letting you take your time until he has you in the car and on the way to the hospital.

“I know.” You reach over and grab his hand and squeeze. “Thank you for being here with me.” You pant, scared of what is to come, but you are comforted by the strong and solid man beside you. He will be your anchor in all of this and it’s been wonderful to know you can rely on him. “We are having a baby.”

"I am always here. No matter what. Every step of the way." He promises, "we are in this together. Our little girl." He smiles and kisses the back of your hand before he lets go so he can start the drive to the hospital. He texted your doctor and she's on the way to the hospital.

On the way to the hospital, you try to breathe, closing your eyes and whining when the pains get bad. “Oh fuck.” You lean back and try to catch your breath. “I want the drugs.” You tell Marcus. “I’m not doing this without them.”

“You can have all the drugs, baby.” He promises, adjusting his glasses after he pulls them from the console, navigating the traffic a little faster than he should but he has his badge ready in case someone decides to pull him over. “Just breathe, sweetheart.” He says, knowing you could slap him but he wants you to breathe for him.

You nod, remembering the classes you had taken with Marcus and start to use some of the breathing methods. “Do you- are you going to watch?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the pain. “Cut the cord? Or just wait for the baby to come out?”

“I’m going to be there for every single step.” He promises, “you can squeeze the shit out of my hand and I’ll cut the cord. I promise you, I will be by your side.” He vows as he pulls into the lane to the exit for the hospital.

You laugh quietly and sigh in relief. “Oh thank god.” You whimper in thanks that you are at the hospital. “I can’t wait to get hooked up to machines.” You snort. “But I want that little needle in my spine.”

“You’ll get it.” Marcus promises and pulls up outside, wanting to get you in before he parks the car. The nurses come out and help you into the wheelchair and Marcus smiles, promising you he will be right there with the bags after he parks the car.

You are questioned from here to eternity and given a ton of paperwork to fill out. “Marcus- he’s the father.” You look over your shoulder for him. “He’s coming with me.” You worry that they will give him a hard time since you aren’t married. “He’s- oh there he is.” You smile when you see him dragging all the bags with him.

Marcus offers the nurses an excited and nervous grin before he follows you to your room with the bags. His heart is pounding and he had texted his parents when he parked to tell them it’s time. He’s so nervous he feels sick but he can’t let you know that. He has to be there for you.

It takes some time to get settled, changed into a gown and hooked up to all the machines. “Lord.” You shake your head and flip your head back onto the pillow. “You would think that someone is having a kid or something.” You joke when you are finally left alone for a moment with Marcus.

“Crazy, right?” He teases, reaching for your hand to kiss the back of it. “How are you feeling?” He asks and you chuckle, “like I’m about to push your daughter out of my vagina.” Marcus squeezes your hand, “you’re gonna be great. At birth and as a mother.” He promises. “And they are bringing the drugs.”

“Oh thank god.” You groan happily. “For a while I was really scared that the old tale about growing a watermelon in your stomach was true.” You joke. “You make big babies, Pike. How much did you weigh when you were born?”

His ears redden as he blushes, “I was nine pounds two ounces. Hence why I’m an only child.” He admits bashfully, knowing his mother reminded his father of how big his son was when he was born.

“I’m going to give birth to a football player,” you moan playfully. “And you’ve got fucking broad shoulders. Bet those baby pics show that too.” You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m going to have drugs so I don’t curse you.”

“You can curse me all you want. As long as you’re safe and sound and our baby girl is here.” He squeezes your hand, “and I’ll be here. No matter what.” He vows and he knows you’ll be cursing his name later but for now, he’s happy to be here for you and support you.

The next few hours are painful. It seems like your labor has stalled and you aren't dilating as fast as you were when you came in. "OH shit." You whine, closing your eyes and rubbing your stomach as you hold onto the IV pole. The nurses have wanted you to walk around and you are currently halfway down the hall from your room with Marcus supporting you. "You know the worst stomach cramps you've had in your life? That's what this is on crack."

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. If I could take it away or take it from you for a bit, I would.” He promises, rubbing your back again. “And don’t forget the sushi platter. The biggest one you’ve ever seen after she’s born.” He reminds you with a smile.

"I'm gonna hold you to that." You pant, shaking your head and starting to shuffle closer to your room again. "I just want it to be closer to that sweet, sweet time that I can have that epidural." You step and feel a rush of liquid. "Shit."

Marcus looks down, “oh shit.” He echoes and his heart pounds as he calls a nurse over. “I think - her water just broke.” He rushes out, a little panicked now that things are moving along.

"We need to get you back to your room." The nurse rushes over and helps Marcus to get you back to your room and settled into your bed. You definitely didn't pee yourself. "I'll send the doctor in immediately."

Marcus reaches for your hand, “she is going to be making an entrance. I can tell.” He smirks and leans in to kiss your forehead, “drugs soon.”

The labor manages to kick into high gear. The contractions coming closer and closer and the pain blooming until the doctor comes in to administer that epidural. That's when it turns into a lovely experience. You can't feel your pain anymore, resting slightly before you are going to have to push. "I hope she looks like you." You tell Marcus, smiling over at him. "You are so handsome. You would make a pretty woman."

Marcus blushes, shaking his head, “I hope she looks like you. I’ll have to fight every romantic prospect from here to L.A but she will be beautiful like her mama.” He smiles and watches you relax now the pain has subsided.

"You won't have to worry about that." You snort, closing your eyes and squeezing his hand gently. "She's going to be a daddy's girl." You predict. "Completely in love with her daddy."

Marcus grins, “I can’t wait to meet her. I know we had an unconventional start to this journey, but I’m so happy you made the decision to keep her. I thought, well, I thought my chances to be a father were over. Thank you for giving me this.” He says, his eyes sincere.

If you can't be honest when you are actively giving birth to his child, when can you be? "It's no big deal." You joke modestly. "Just had an amazing night and then fell in love with the father of my baby. What could be easier?"

Marcus's eyes widen at your confession, and he is still, silent, for a few moments. You frown and it deepens the longer he's silent. "Baby, I-" He starts but you cut him off, "no. It's okay. I - I shouldn't have-" He cuts you off, "I love you. When I was undercover, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I have fallen more in love with you every single day and I have struggled with not being with you and raising our daughter together. I want you. I love you. I'm in love with you." He confesses, eyes wide and anxious.

"We picked a hell of a time to have this conversation, didn't we?" You ask, laughing slightly as you reach out and caress his cheek. "I love you, I'm in love with you too and after we go back home - I want to see what can happen if we are together."

Marcus chuckles, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He murmurs, tilting his head so he can press a soft kiss to your lips. He doesn’t linger too long, knowing that you are busy having his baby, but he kisses your forehead and smiles, “our life together begins.” He promises and caresses your bump.

You laugh as the doctor comes in, all smiles. “Well, it looks like the drugs have kicked in.” She comments as she gloves up. “Time to check you.” She tells you before she lifts the blanket over your legs. “Oh there’s the head!” She announces, sending the room into a flurry of activity.

Marcus’s eyes widen, “she’s - she’s coming?” He chokes, shocked that she is crowning and you didn’t even know. “Must be some drugs.” He murmurs, watching the staff rush and before he knows it, he’s gowned up and holding your hand while the doctor tells you when to push. “She’s coming.” He grins, looking down at her crowning head when the doctor asks if he wants to see her.

You close your eyes. "Just don't judge me." You joke. "I don't know what it looks like right now, but I'm sure that it's stretchy." You look over at a nurse when she holds up a mirror so you can see and nod. "I want to see her too." You tell her, biting your lip when you see the baby's head.

Marcus can already feel the tears forming in his eyes as you are told to push. “Just breathe baby.” He murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. “You’re doing so good. She’s gonna be here any second.”

You start to push, crying out from the pressure that overrides the drugs and you squeeze his hand. "Ohhhhhh my goddddddddddddd." You scream while bearing down and watching as the head pushes out of you.

Marcus has tears falling down his cheeks and he kisses your sweaty forehead, “come on baby. You got this.” He says as he watches you push again at the doctor's order. “She’s nearly here.”

Your eyes are closed, not watching the mirror as you focus on pushing as hard as you can. Trying to stay silent, but the whine comes out of you. Listening as the doctor says that one shoulder blade is out, and opening your eyes to look at Marcus as you give the final push to bring your daughter into the world.

Her cry fills the room after a moment of silence and he sobs, “our little girl.” He chokes and the doctor asks if he wants to cut the cord. He nods and shuffles down to grip the scissors with shaking hands, cutting the cord so the doctor can tie it off and place the baby on your chest.

Within seconds of watching Marcus's face light up in pure love and joy, the baby is deposited on your chest and you are immediately obsessed. She's perfect. Angry at being pushed into the world, although she quickly calms down against your skin and you are sobbing as you cradle her to you. "Oh my god. She's so perfect." You cry, kissing her head and looking up to see Marcus looking at both of you.

He is so happy at this moment. You love him like he loves you and you just gave birth to your daughter. It’s incredible and he is sobbing and he leans in to kiss your forehead. “I love you. I love you.” He chokes, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “I love you, my Annabelle.”

"We love you too." You promise, crying happy tears and pulling him closer so he can touch the baby. "She's here, she's perfect and she's here." You tell him, like he just hadn't witnessed her birth.

He caresses her head and watches as he tries to suckle on your nipple, recognizing her mama. He smiles and strokes her head as she settles while the doctor works on you. "She's beautiful." He murmurs, "just like her mama."

You smile up at him, before looking back down at the baby and sighing softly. You know that the nurses will need to take her in a moment, but you want this. You've waited to meet her and she is finally here. "She has your ears." You coo in delight when you see that her ears are curled slightly.

After Annabelle is taken away, Marcus wipes his eyes and leans in to kiss your lips, “I love you.” He murmurs, his heart fit to burst. After Annabelle is cleaned up, he leans over you as you cradle her, a look of love and awe on your face that takes his breath away. “She has your nose.” He says, “thank God.”

“How can you tell, it’s still smooshed from being born?” You ask, even though you adore her already. Looking up at Marcus, you wiggle to the side of the bed. “Sit down and take your shirt off.” You order him. “Skin to skin contact is good for you both.”

Marcus nods, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and he pulls it over his head. He notices your eyes appraising him and he smirks, “like what you see?” He asks as he takes Annabelle from you, cooing to her as he settles with her on his chest. She curls into him, her mouth opening as she tries to suckle on him and he chuckles, “mama is the one with the milk. I’m your daddy, baby girl.” He coos and she squeaks before she settles down.

It’s a precious moment and you reach for your phone to take a picture, wanting to keep this memory forever. “You’re so beautiful together.” You whisper, snapping pic after pic as he looks up at you and beams in the next photo. “You are already such a great daddy and she’s not even an hour old.”

He grins, caressing her back, “is it weird if I say that I feel like I’m complete? Like this is what I was put on earth to do?” He says and you smile, caressing his shoulder, “you look like it.” He smiles and leans down to press a kiss to Annabelle’s head. “I believe I owe mommy a sushi platter.” He murmurs to her until he looks up at you.

“I did just give you a perfect little girl to spoil.” You tease, leaning over and touching her head gently. “She is worth every sushi roll I didn’t get to eat.” You promise. “I can’t believe it.” Your yawn catches you off guard, but you are exhausted from the labor.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll look after her and when you wake up, I’ll have that sushi platter ready for you to dig into?” He asks and leans in to kiss your forehead, “get some rest. We will be just fine.”

You want to argue, but you know it won’t be safe for you to hold her while you are so tired. The afterbirth has been passed and they have changed the pad up under you so you are all cleaned up. “Okay.” You agree, leaning back and closing your eyes. “I love you both.” You murmur softly.

“We love you.” He promises, shifting off the bed so you can settle down properly and he rocks Annabelle until she’s asleep and he places her in the cot they have next to your bed. He caresses her cheek as he stretches before curling back into herself and he smiles, grabbing his phone to organize the sushi he promised to get you. He’s so happy right now. Everything he’s ever wanted is right here.

****

Tonight is the night. You’ve been cleared by the doctors to resume intercourse and you’ve had your IUD placed this time since the pills weren’t a good option. Being home has solidified your feelings for Marcus. The love that you have and you can’t wait to touch him again. It’s been six weeks of absolute bliss with him and Annabelle. Your little family bonding and despite being a little sleep deprived, you have never felt better in your life.

Marcus cradles Annabelle, cooing to her, and he looks up when you walk into the living room. You went for your six week check up and he’s anxious to see how things are. He’s been exhausted waking up with Annabelle in the middle of the night but it doesn’t stop him from jerking off in the shower thinking about you.

“Here are my two favorite people.” You grin as you look at the sleepy smile on Marcus’s face and you know he needs a nap. Setting your things down, you come over to the two of them and drop a kiss on your daughter’s head and then give Marcus a soft, promising kiss with a bit of heat on it. “Hello handsome.” You hum against his lips.

He smirks, “now that’s a hello.” He murmurs as he leans back to see the look on your face, “I trust everything went well at the appointment?” He asks and you nod, “very well.” He rocks Annabelle as she squeaks, “she knows mommy is home. I fed her about twenty minutes ago but maybe she wants some more.”

You nod and take her from Marcus. You pump for him to feed her, but you also breastfeed. Enjoying the bonding of the act and settle down beside him as you lower your shirt to put her on your nipple. “The doctor cleared me.” You tell him quietly as Annabelle latches on and starts to eat like she hadn’t had a meal in days. She’s greedy and it makes you smile. “I got an IUD this time.” You look over at him and smirk. “So we can take a nap when this one goes down…..or….”

He stares at you, his eyes glossing over, “are you - are you sure? You’re ready?” He asks, not wanting to pressure you if you aren’t ready. He doesn’t mind waiting. “I don’t feel tired.” He adds, wanting to give you the choice to ask him to take you to bed.

“I’ve been ready.” You admit. “But I wanted the doctor to clear me just in case.” You rock Annabelle and look down at her. “I’m not tired either. And I know that we’ve been sleeping apart, but maybe we can share a bed tonight? Afterwards?”

Marcus smiles, “whatever you want baby. I’m all in.” He promises, “I want you in my bed every night if you want to be there.” He’s already half hard at the thought of touching you and he watches you as you feed Annabelle, her eyes fluttering closed as she starts to fall asleep against your chest. “Go put her down and then I want you in my bed.”

“So eager.” You tease, even though you are just as eager. You take her upstairs and lay her down in her bassinet that Marcus had put together, still in it instead of the crib, before you walk down the hall to Marcus’s room. You reach for the handle, but decide to knock, since it’s not your room yet.

He looks up as you walk into his room, his shirt off and his feet bare as he sits on the foot of his bed. His smile is soft as you shut the door behind you and the iPad in your hand with the baby monitor on the screen. “Come here.” He orders and you walk over to stand between his legs. His hands caress your legs through your leggings and he looks up at you. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, “I love you.”

“You know that everything is a little more flabby, right?” You are a little worried because he doesn’t know what your body looks like now after the baby’s birth.

Marcus shakes his head as he slides his hands up to squeeze your ass, “you just had our beautiful girl. You are strong and incredible. Do you think I care about some flab? I love you. All of you. No matter what.” He promises, “you amaze me and turn me on as you are and I want to worship you.” He says passionately, “I love you. Let me show you.”

“You are so amazing.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips against his gently. “You can do whatever you want. I’m yours. I promise.” It’s been such a relief over the past six weeks to have your emotions known and the two of you have had several conversations and made out.

He slides his hand to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head to expose your nursing bra and he leans in to kiss your stomach after your shirt is on the floor. He wants you to know he loves all of you.

“Marcus.” He’s so incredibly gentle with you. Your own hands running through his hair and watches as he starts to strip your leggings down. “I love you.” You grin at him when he looks up at you. “Try not to knock me up this time.” You tease.

He chuckles, “I’d be batting a thousand if that happened.” He smirks as you step out of your leggings and he slides his hand up your back to unclasp your bra. He groans at the sight of your tits, unable to stop himself as he surges forward to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Oh god!” It’s a completely different sensation from when you are nursing Annabelle. Pulling deep inside your core and making you clench around nothing. “Marcus.” You moan softly.

Marcus groans when a spurt of milk hits his tongue but he doesn't stop. He keeps sucking on your nipple, wanting to hear your sweet moans and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, pulling you closer to him and he releases your nipple to kiss down your torso. He slides his tongue along your stretch marks, worshiping them until he ducks his head to bury his nose in the curls at the apex of your thighs. He groans at the heady scent of you and he shifts, sliding off the bed to kneel below you so he can slide his tongue through your folds.

“Baby-“ you choke out a sound of pleasure as his tongue presses against your clit. He’s talented, you’ve known that, but it’s been so long that you are almost overly sensitive. “The- oh fuck- the last time I had this, you were the one eating me out.” You remind him breathlessly.

He groans, “and it’s going to be me for the rest of our lives.” He says as he pulls away for a second to look up at you with adoration on his face. “Marry me.” He demands, wanting to be with you. He’s impulsive but he’s sure. He wants you. He loves you. It’s never been like this. You are his best friend and he wants you to be his wife.

You choke up, tears welling up in your eyes and you nod quickly. “Yes!” You promise him, wishing that you could kiss him right now. “Yes Marcus, yes!”

Marcus grins, knowing he should kiss you but instead, he surges forward to lap at your clit again. It's vigorous and intense and everything he's wanted to do since that night you showed up on his door again.

You lose yourself in the moment, body jerking in surprise and pleasure and you moan his name softly. You don’t want to wake Annabelle but it is so good as he flicks his tongue against your clit. “Fuck baby, I love you.” You whine softly.

He groans, his hands finding your ass as your fingers tangle in his hair. He's hard in his pants, aching for you after months of jerking off in the shower. He's desperate for you and the fact that you're going to be totally his is intoxicating. He slides his tongue to your entrance, lapping at it to enjoy your arousal.

His tongue is magical and the entire thing is so much better because he wants to do this. It’s not begrudging or lackluster, he is burying his tongue inside you after a moment of tasting you with a hungry eagerness. “Fuck baby, I - I wish you would have let me blow you while I was recovering.” You admit, knowing he has been trying so hard to hide his continuous arousal from you.

He shakes his head against your cunt, “no. I don’t - you had our little girl. Couldn’t let you do that.” He groans before diving back into your flesh. He wants to hear you moan for him. His hands grabbing your flesh with a hiss and he loves how you whine when he sucks on your clit.

It doesn’t take much to work you up, you had felt so guilty about using a vibrator that you hadn’t will you were pregnant, not wanting Marcus to hear you. Your body needing an orgasm. “Marcus, fuck - I love you. I love you!” You squeal when you fall apart on his tongue.

Your cry has him twitching in his pants, aching for you, but he focuses on you, working you through it with soft laps of his tongue on your clit. “Fuck, you’re so good.” He murmurs to himself against your skin until he’s pulling back to look up at you with a slicked up chin.

“Me?” You huff out a link and reach for him, wanting him close. “Strip down, Mr. Pike.” You order playfully. “It’s been too long and I need you.”

Marcus smirks, shifting to stand and he reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. “I have jerked off so many times thinking about you.” He admits, “I love you.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours to kiss you while he works on unbuttoning his pants.

“Good to know.” You grin against his lips and pull back so you can watch. “I don’t know if I will ever get tired of this view.” You admit, admiring his body and pressing your thighs together in anticipation. “You are perfect.”

“Far from perfect.” He scoffs, “but I’m hoping I’m good enough to be your husband.” He says with a smile and he pushes his boxers down along with his pants to stand naked before you. He’s hard and aching for you, desperate for touch since he hasn’t had anyone since that night he met you.

“You will be my husband.” You promise, reaching for him. “And when we are ready, we can try for another baby?” You ask gently. You want Marcus to be present for the entire experience. “I’m kind of wanting another one already.”

Marcus lights up as he caresses your waist, dragging you up against his body. “You want another one?” He asks and you nod, making him grin. “I want another one. I want to be there for everything and have our family together.” He nudges his nose against yours, “and in the meantime, we can have fun trying.”

“Yes we can.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his cock and smirk when he groans your name. “I want you inside me.”

He thrusts into your grip, another groan escaping his lips as you move your hand along his length. You’re gorgeous and his making his heart pound in his chest. “I love you.” He pants, “let me - shit. Need to be inside you.” He says as he grabs you to start walking you backwards to the bed.

You let him guide you back and reluctantly let go of his cock while you fall back into his bed. Smiling when he groans and wraps his own hand around himself as he kneels, making you scoot back. “Fuck. You know the last time, we made a perfect baby girl.” You coo. “This time we are going to make love.”

Marcus smiles at your words, “to my fiancée.” He adds as he shuffles closer while you rest your head on the pillows. “My gorgeous girl.” He coos, shifting to his elbows so he can cover your body with his and he moves his hand down to grip his cock, sliding it through your folds.

Coming together is perfect. He breaks you open with an aching slowness that steals your breath and fills your heart. Emotional over the simple act that had become so much more than casual. Your hearts are involved and you have created a family together. Marcus presses his lips to yours and you let him in so easily. Groaning into his mouth as he bottoms out.

He can’t believe he has this. He has you. He has Annabelle. Everything he’s ever wanted and it’s suddenly so tangible that it makes him close his eyes so you don’t see them shine with unshed tears. It’s more than he’d ever imagined could happen. He starts to slowly move inside you, groaning your name against your lips.

You hold onto him as he rocks in and out of you. Kisses along his jaw, you can see that he is a little emotional. “I love you, baby.” You whisper, wanting to let him know how much you care about him. Caressing his back gently.

He groans as your walls flutter around him, making his chest tighten and he rocks into you. He’s in no hurry and he’s trying to control himself because you feel so fucking good around him, beneath him.

“Marcus.” You love how tender he is being, but your legs tighten around him, rocking up to meet his unhurried thrusts. “You - I love you. Can’t wait to be your wife.”

Marcus groans as you caress his back and he kisses along your neck, breathing you in. “So happy we met in that bar. I know it’s been a rocky road but fuck, I love you.” He murmurs, “so gorgeous and you’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

"It was meant to be." You promise, turning and pressing your lips to his again as he pushes deep and pulls a moan out of you. "Our story will be one our kids adore."

He chuckles, “the PG version.” He teases as he grabs your thigh to lift it higher so he can sink deeper into you. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Always thought so.” He murmurs, “ever since that night in the bar.”

“You caught my eye.” You tell him shamelessly. “I hated that a man as good looking as you looked so unhappy.” You moan again. “Best decision I ever made was coming over to talk to you.”

“I’m so glad you came over. I had no confidence. Thought I was unwanted, not good enough. She knocked me down and I was struggling to get back up until you gave me a boost.” He confesses breathlessly, “fuck - and best sex I’ve ever had.”

“We were great that night, weren’t we?” You giggle and lean up to lick his pulse. “Baby, you fucked me so good that night. I was dreaming of the next time you would take me home.” You promise. “Just didn’t know you would literally move me in.”

Marcus chuckles as he looks down at you, “should’ve moved you in sooner but I went undercover. Thought of you all the time when I was under. Jerked off to thoughts of you.” He confesses, “wanna have more nights like that.” He murmurs, biting on your earlobe .

“Every night we aren’t exhausted with the baby.” You promise, clenching down around him and loving how he chokes out your name. “Make me cum, Marcus.” You beg.

He nods, desperate to see you fall apart for him again, so he slides his hand between you, finding your clit and rubbing it while he presses kisses to your jaw, “cum for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel it.”

“Oh god, baby.” You whine when he starts to rub your clit. He’s so good to you. That coil that has been building and twisting inside you bursts under the skill of his fingers and you cry out in pleasure when you clamp down around him.

He groans when you squeeze him tight in your walls, making him hiss at how good you feel. It’s been so long since he has felt your warmth surrounding him and he feels the tingle in his belly, he’s close. “Fuck. Baby. I- shit. I can’t hold back.” He confesses, pulling his hand away from your clit to grab your hand.

“Then cum for me.” You beg. “I’m so close.” It doesn’t even matter if you cum right now. You just want to see him cum again, to feel it. “Cum for me baby. I love you so much,”

He desperately wants you to cum with him so he returns his fingers to your clit, rubbing it a little faster as he rocks into you frantically, a grunt escaping his lips as he twitches inside you, unable to hold back anymore as he starts to paint your walls with his cum.

“Marcuuuuuus.” You whine his name, eyes closing in pure bliss as the heat of his seed starts to fill you. The sensation and the knowledge that he is yours throws you over the edge, starting to shake as your walls flutter around his cock. “Marcus! I love you so much.”

He pants as he works you both through your highs and he groans when your nails scratch along his back as you convulse beneath him. "I love you." He declares breathlessly, kissing your chin after he gently bites it.

It’s so much better than the night you conceived Annabelle, the emotions heightening the sensation and making tears prick in your eyes. “I love you.” Gasp out, holding him close and panting when you are done shaking, wanting to keep him right where he is.

Marcus keeps himself above you by shifting his weight to his elbows but he leans in to kiss you, “so damn good. Wanna do that again when I can.” He chuckles, “not 18 anymore, baby.” He smiles and nudges his nose with yours.

“I’m glad you’re not 18.” You snort, kissing him again. “I love the man I have, not the one the boy could become.”

He groans as he rolls over, his cock sliding from you as he pulls you into his chest and he sighs when Annabelle’s cry sounds through the iPad. “I got her.” He kisses your forehead and shifts from the bed so he can pick up his boxers. He puts them on and comes back a few moments later with Annabelle, “it’s okay, sweetheart. Mama is here with some milk.” He promises, carrying her over to you.

You laugh as you take the baby from him. “But I have to pee.” You joke, letting her latch and knowing that you will wait. She won’t eat for long, she just always wants something when she wakes up from any kind of sleep no matter what time it is. “How about we order some pizza?” You ask, waggling your brows at him playfully. “Could be just like the first time.”

Marcus chuckles and nods, “let’s do it.” He smirks, grabbing his phone from his pants while you nurse Annabelle. He tosses his phone onto the nightstand when he’s done and he lays down beside you, leaning in to kiss his daughter’s head. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted.” He murmurs, looking up at you.

“Just wait until we have another.” You tease, smiling at him happily. “Then it will be everything you wanted.” You understand what he is meaning, though. He now has the life he had imagined when he asked Teresa to marry him, but you know he’s not looking at you like you are a replacement. He’s not that type of man. He wears his heart on his sleeve. “After she eats, I’ll get dressed and we can put her in her swing while we eat.”

“Sounds good baby.” Marcus leans in to kiss your forearm as you cradle Annabelle.

****

“Babe. Can you get the burp rag?” You call out, cradling your newborn son while Annabelle naps in her crib upstairs. Marcus is preparing dinner and he sets the knife down to bring the rag over to you. He kisses your forehead and hands you the rag, caressing the baby’s head when the doorbell rings. “Who the hell is that?” Marcus frowns, making his way down the hall to open the door. He checks the peep hole and his eyes widen, “what the fuck…” He trails off as he unlocks the door and opens it. “Teresa. Jane. What - what are you doing here?”

“Marcus!” She had told Patrick that she should send him an email or at least called, but he had insisted it would be fine. Wanted to be nosy about his life was more accurate, but neither one of them had heard much other than he was still living in the house he had bought when he moved to D.C. “Hi!” She shoots him a smile and notes that he looks tired, but he doesn’t look sad anymore. Not like the last time she had seen him. “I know it’s a surprise, can we come in?”

Marcus looks over his shoulder where you are holding the baby in your arms and he frowns, turning back to the couple. “I, uh, I was making dinner and-” You step closer, “it’s okay baby.” You tell him, knowing he needs this. Marcus turns to look at you, mouthing “are you sure?” and when you nod, he opens the door. “Come in. This is my wife.” He says your name as he introduces you, “and our son, Zac.” He says and Teresa’s eyes widen as she sees you holding the baby. “Wife? Son? You work fast, Pike.” Patrick smirks and reaches to take Teresa’s coat off. Marcus shuts the door and he raises his eyebrows when he sees Teresa is pregnant.

“Oh, uh, our first.” Teresa admits, flushing slightly as she rubs her hand over her stomach. “We didn’t know that you had gotten married. Congratulations.” She offers, looking over at you curiously. You aren’t with the Bureau or she would have recognized your name. “When was your son born?”

“Last month. We have a daughter too. She’s 18 months.” He reveals and Teresa raises her eyebrows in shock. “You really do work fast, Pike.” Jane chuckles and Marcus nods curtly, guiding them into the living room, his hand on your lower back and he kisses your hairline.

You sit down next to Marcus, watching the woman who had turned down your husband. In many ways, you owe her a debt of gratitude. Without her choosing the annoying looking man beside her, you would have never had the life you have right now. Even though she had hurt Marcus, you are proud that you had brought joy and happiness back to his life and hope he has no regrets.

Marcus wants to know why the hell Teresa and Jane are in his home in D.C and he gets the answer not too long after everyone has a drink and your son in his rocker. “We wanted to apologize. For what we did.” Teresa explains and Marcus frowns, “like…breaking up with me?” Teresa reaches for Jane’s hand, “well, yes, but for how I broke up with you. I should’ve been honest about my feelings for him and that wasn’t fair to you. It’s been bothering me a lot since I got pregnant and we came to D.C for the FBI and I wanted to clear the air.” She confesses and Marcus reaches for your hand. “I was devastated at first. Couldn’t believe you just left me and I had gotten us a home, planned a future, and with a call it was all gone.” Teresa ducks her head and Jane swallows harshly, guilt in his eyes. “But I owe you so much gratitude for that phone call. A week later I ended up in a bar and met the love of my life. Your selfishness led to me finding everything I ever wanted. She makes my world spin around and we have two beautiful children. I’m happy. Deliriously so and I owe that to you breaking my heart. Thank you. I’m glad it worked out for you both. I wish you the best because you paved the way for me to get the most beautiful, smart, sexy, and utterly incredible woman to sit next to me.”

Your smile is proud and you can’t help but lean in and press your lips to Marcus’s cheek, Zac starting to fuss in your arms. “And I owe you for giving him the freedom for us to meet and fall in love.” You won’t tell her the entire tale, she doesn’t deserve it, but you can tell she understands you know everything that happened between them. “I’m going to go feed the baby, sweetheart.” You tell Marcus softly, feeling Zac start to root around for your nipple. A sure sign he wants to eat. “Talk as long as you need. I can finish up dinner.”

Marcus squeezes your hand, “I can handle dinner.” He says and Teresa rubs her bump, “you are happy and that - that makes me happy.” She smiles softly and Marcus sighs, “look, I don’t know why you came here. Actually, I’d assume it’s to see how your selfish actions affected me. You probably hoped I’d still be alone and miserable and pining for you. That isn’t the case. I’m happier than ever and I refuse to lessen your guilt because what you did was shitty and selfish even if it led to me finding a beautiful life. I am not here to make you feel better. So, if you don’t mind, I have to cook dinner for my family and my beautiful wife needs help.” He says, standing up, and Patrick follows, “come on, Teresa. It’s time to go. I wish you all the best, Pike.” He says, holding his hand out. Marcus shakes his hand, his grip a little tighter than it should be. “I really am sorry Marcus. I’m glad you found what you wanted.” She says after she stands and Marcus guides them down the hall to the front door. “Thanks for stopping by.” He says and they shuffle out. He doesn’t take more than a moment to shut the door behind them and he strides though the home to the kitchen where you are feeding Zac.

“I’m sorry about that, baby. They - fucking assholes wanted me to make them feel better about their selfish actions.” He shakes his head, “but fuck them. They deserve each other. I’ve got the most incredible woman in the world.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “I love you.” He declares softly and you smile, cradling the baby. “I love you too. Now, I believe I was promised dinner.” You tease and he chuckles, kissing your forehead while he strokes Zac’s cheek.

“Chicken parm coming right up for my gorgeous wife.” He winks and makes his way onto the kitchen. He takes a moment to lean against the counter. He’d often imagined confronting the woman who broke his heart and ruined his plans before he met you but now, he doesn’t care. He has everything he ever wanted and he got to thank Teresa and Jane for their mistake leading to his dream. He is happy and ready to continue enjoying his life, all thanks to that fateful night in that bar. Life happens for a reason.

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

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 9 months ago

Text

Something impulsive | joel miller x f!reader x marcus pike, 7.1k

Summary: The distance between you and Joel grows. You decide to give Marcus a chance. A chance encounter shifts the balance between you and the two men.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, image just for aesthetic purposes, reader does not have a description, angst, slow-burn, insecurities, first date nervousness, flirting, sexual thoughts, kissing, Joel still being a prick, Joel still being an idiot (bear with him) dog piss (bear with me, too), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: And here I was, thinking that this time I'll keep it short. Who am I kidding. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all!

P.S.: Credits for the final scene go to @jessthebaker and this hilarious comment that I just had to include in the chapter:

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Radio silence.

That is what you would call it.

After your last encounter, you haven't seen or heard from Joel for two long weeks. No text, no phone call, nothing. Were you entering the winter phase again? Most likely.

You regretted the way you had challenged him that night. It wasn't really your style, but that's what happens when you bottle things up. Especially things like desire and longing. Eventually, they erupt like a fucking volcano after a long hibernation. Brutally. And yet you haven't got an ounce or a reaction. Something. Anything at all.

You were terrified that your friendship had been broken. You could have texted him. You should have. You felt it was all your fault anyway. You should have apologized. But you were angry. And selfish. And deep down you blamed him for your reaction, for making you feel helpless, a pawn in his hands.

But was that the case? And can you really blame anyone for your own actions? You were responsible for the way you reacted. You could have done things differently. You knew that. But you did not want to admit that to him.

Whether you were angry or not, you missed him all the same. You missed his presence, his voice, his scent. You missed the sound of his name on your tongue. The warmth of his irises and the softness in his eyes when he looked at you. And boy, did he look at you.

He may not have been a man of many words, but sometimes, just sometimes, his gaze spoke louder than any voice in the room. That's how you got into this mess in the first place.

One evening, on your day off, you hang out with Trish at your place. You needed the company, being alone with your thoughts for too long wasn't a good idea. The two of you sit on the sofa, drinking beer and eating pizza straight out of the box. You had already put your girls to bed and this was your happy hour.

"Are you dating Marcus you little weasel?"

"Where did that come from?", your eyes widen in surprise.

"Joel asked me the other day.", Trish reveals, laughing under her breath.

"WHAT?" you squeal in disbelief. Joel was not the type to ask about other people's private matters. Especially yours and especially to his cousin. "OK, please, elaborate."

"He asked me if you’re seeing him.", she continues.

"When did this happen?", you try to draw an imaginary map in your mind, gathering all the information available to you to understand what might be going through his mind.

"A few days ago, maybe?" she says nonchalantly.

"He asked that explicitly? Those were the exact words he used?", you insist like a hound dog looking for clues.

"Of course not." Trish rolls her eyes, "He danced around it for a while, but I pretended I didn't know what he was talking about -which I obviously don't- and then I made him ask directly."

"Oh god, give the poor man a break!", you exclaim, you could only imagine what a menace could she be when she wanted to.

"Well, are you?"

"No, I’m not. But if he asks again tell him I am."

"Why?", she frowns but looks amused at the same time. Oh, she's up to something.

"So he will leave me alone." Well he already kind of did, but maybe it was for the best to cut the ties once and for all.

"What do you mean? Is he bothering you?" Trish insists, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"No- he's- it's not- uh-" where would you even start, it's all a fucking mess, anyway. "Forget I said anything-" you try to end the conversation, but-

"I might have kind of implied that, though?" Trish wrinkles her nose, trying to minimize the damage.

"WHAT?"

"Only because he looked desperate" she rushes to explain, "and honestly you two should really fuck each other. So I thought maybe I could spice things up a bit."

A minute or two passes before you answer her. All this information bombarding your mind left a paralyzing feeling in your mouth. He looked desperate? Why the fuck? Was this the classic 'I want what I can't have'? He wasn't that type. And he could have his way with you if he wanted to. Couldn't he? Did he get the feeling that you weren't interested? What more could you have done, he was the one who went cold and hot all the time. "It's not like that." is all you say.

"The hell it isn't." Trish quips, almost offended.

"We don't want the same things Trish, and I won't make the same mistakes again." you draw the line. "What did he say?", you ask without shame, because you just have to know, even if it hurts you.

"Oh, you know, he put on his usual 'Joel grumpy face' and walked out on me. But honestly, what did you expect?" she shrugs and continues, "So, if 'it's not like that'", she air-quotes you mockingly, "why don't you give Marcus a real chance? He's a good guy and I don't often say that," Trish points her finger at you.

"I'm sure he is Trish, but I can't."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's not honest."

"To whom?"

"To him."

"And..?" she presses you.

You close your eyes, because you really don't want to say it and it feels frustrating but comforting at the same time to have a friend who knows you so well. "And to my heart.", you mumble coyly.

"Oh, baby c'mere. You really like my stupid cousin, don't you?" Trish wraps her arms around your shoulders, squeezing you into a tight hug.

"No, I do not." It's more than that. "And don't push it any further, it's not happening.", it's your turn to point the finger at her.

"Ok.", she sighs troubled. "Ok, look at me and listen carefully.", she makes a serious face, holding your hands in hers as she begins. "Joel's my cousin and he is a good man and I love him, but he has his own issues to deal with-"

"What do you mean?" You interrupt her curiously. You never thought to ask about his past before, it seemed invasive.

"It’s not my place." she cuts you off with a guarded look that seems so foreign on her face and continues, "The point is, you cannot wait for him forever."

"I'm not-" you start to deny it, but Trish grabs your face in her palms, squeezing you gently to make her point and you stop mid-sentence.

"You deserve to be happy. And you can't miss something you've never had." her eyes bore into yours, full of care and concern.

Her last words strike you like a slap on the face.

Oh, but you can. You already are.

Another two weeks have passed and you still haven't heard from Joel. He's stuck in your head like a virus, unable to think of anything else. This is the longest you've gone without talking. It's taking its toll on you, making you fidgety and jumpy, irritated by the simplest things. You've reached your breaking point and you're ready to call him, just to see if he's OK.

And, if you're honest with yourself, to give him a chance to make a move. He might think you don't want him to reach out. That thought makes you even more angry, you sound so pathetic in your head, begging for a man's attention. A man who has never made his intentions clear. You should stand up for yourself, hold your own.

You're at the office, shuffling through your bag, looking for your phone, still debating whether to call him. As you reach deep into your bag, searching through the million things you stuff in there, you feel a hard, papery thing on your fingertips. You fish it out and see that it's Marcus' card. You don't even remember putting that thing in there. But you remember him giving it to you.

He was such a gentleman and so thoughtful that night. He didn't ask for your number and he didn't press to put his on your phone. He gave you his card, clearly stating that he hoped you would get in touch with him.

"..why don't you give Marcus a real chance?.."

You take a deep breath and unlock your phone.

"..You cannot wait for him forever.."

This is it.

"..You deserve to be happy.."

You're going to call him. Right now? Yes, right now.

He picks up after the third ring.

"Agent Pike.", his voice deep and smooth, runs like honey in your ears. You remember how much you liked the sound of it.

You’re taken aback for a moment, you'd almost forgotten what he did for a living. It was strange but interesting to hear him like that, it stirred something in you. "Uh- um-" you lose your train of thought for a second, "hi- I don't know if you rememb-"

Marcus says your name instantly, the surprise evident in his tone. "I was beginning to think you'd either lost my card or I'd made a terrible, terrible first impression on you," he says with a soft laugh, vulnerability coloring his voice.

"No, no, god- no, nothing like that.. It was really nice to meet you!" you reassure him, because it really was.

"Yeah, you too.." Marcus replies and you can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn't say anything else, giving you time to collect yourself.

"I just-" you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to freak out, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, you hadn't planned this, "I've been really busy, with work and the kids, I haven't had a chance to..." the words catch in your throat as you think of the real reason you've been busy.

Obsessing over unavailable men.

But you don't want to lie to Marcus, he's been so kind and open, so you pause, looking for a way out of the hole you've dug yourself into.

"Hey, it's OK," Marcus takes the lead, sensing your discomfort, "you didn't have to call, but I'm really glad you did. I thought about getting your details from Trish in case you lost my number, but then I didn't want to force you into anything in case you didn't lose my number, you know?" he laughs timidly.

"Yeah, I know; that is so thoughtful of you. I'm- I'm glad I called." It feels strange to admit something like that, something so small, to be honest, to be so open and talk about positive things, to make someone feel good with your words on a personal level. You've spent the last few years just doing it for your daughters, loving them, hyping them up, rooting for them, but it's a change that you welcome and you discover that you really, really missed it.

There's a short silence on the other end, which makes you feel anxious, so you decide not to bother him any more. "I'm sorry I called during office hours, I-"

"No, no, no, don't even think about it, there are no office hours at my line of work anyway, so.." Marcus rushes to put you at ease. "I was just wondering if I should ask you out or if I'm jumping the gun," he blurts out and you can feel his hesitation through the phone.

"Well," you try to lighten the mood, "you're the one asking questions for a living, so why don't you earn your keep?" you bite your lower lip in anticipation and then snicker to yourself. You hear Marcus laughing, amused and impressed by your little stunt, and you have a deep desire to hear it again, knowing that it's your doing.

Marcus is not one to shy away from a challenge, so he delivers quite brilliantly. "It would give me great pleasure if you would go out with me," he says your name softly at the end, "I know it can be tricky with the girls and work and all that, but I'm sure we could work something out; my office hours are very flexible," he informs you, cleverly covering all your possible obstacles.

"I thought you didn't have office hours..." you return playfully, feeling lighter already, the thought of Joel still lingering, but the pain of it fading in your heart.

"For you I do." Marcus deadpans with an amazing ability to not make it sound cheesy. And you know exactly what kind of ability it is.

The one of honesty.

Your heart is in your mouth. You're sure of it. You can taste your heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. As much as you've tried to play it down, you're nervous, your stomach is in knots. You spend most of the evening whining to Trish on the phone, freaking out about what to wear and ending up with a "What does it matter anyway? It's one date and that's it, he's not sticking around. Yeah, he's not. I'm good, I'm fine, this is fine." you shrug as you look at yourself in your bedroom mirror.

Trish's voice brings you back to reality, "None of that, everything's going to be fine, you're going to have a good time and you're going to keep having a good time." You looked sideways at the phone as if Trish could see you through it, glancing at the time. "Ok Trish, thanks for the pep talk, but I have to go or I'll be late."

"Sure thing babe, have a great night-"

"Thanks Trish-" you speak over her voice sure she's done with the pleasantries, but-

"-and don't forget to fuck 'im."

The line goes dead before you can reply.

Jesus Christ.

"You got this. You got this. You got this," you chant to yourself, pacing the living room, checking the time on your phone every thirty seconds. "Yeah," you exhale with nervous conviction, "you got this." The doorbell rings and your stomach clenches. Conviction my ass, "No, you don't." you mutter before rushing to answer the door.

Your heels click on the wooden floor and you pin the hem of your dress down once more, just to be sure. It wasn't terribly short, but still, you haven't dressed for a date in God knows how long.

You open the door and your breath catches in your throat. But you could say the same about Marcus. You look at one another for a moment, both admiring each other. He looks sharp, clean-shaven, with a prominent jawline that makes you want to suck on it from side to side.

His hair is combed back and slightly to the side. He looks so handsome and then he smiles at you. A real smile, big and toothy and bright and beautiful. His eyes crinkle and his plush lips stretch with the force of it. His suit is elegant and clean, neatly pressed, and the two top buttons of his shirt are undone, showing a hint of his tanned chest, making it more casual.

"Hey.." Marcus speaks first, pulling himself out of his haze. His eyes drink you in, unable to land on one spot, admiring your simple but elegant black dress that stops mid-thigh, the softness of your exposed skin, the curves of your body and the features of your face.

"Hi..." you say back shyly, noticing his admiration.

"I- Christ-", he stutters almost confused.

"What's wrong?" you fidget with the fabric of your dress, your nerves getting the better of you once again.

"I almost forgot how beautiful you are-" Marcus admits, his eyebrows raised, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks. "-you look amazing," he compliments, raising his arm and pointing his open palm in your direction.

You pray that you can fast-forward to the actual date and stay right here on the threshold of your house at the same time. "Oh, thank you -" you reply quietly, with a shy smile on your lips.

"These-" Marcus raises his other hand, suddenly remembering what he's holding, "these are for you," he hands you a beautiful bunch of flowers, obviously made specifically for you by a florist, wrapped in a beautiful ribbon. What is it about this man that turns the most clichéd things into thoughtful actions?

"These are so beautiful, thank you, let me-" you point towards the house so you can put them in a vase, signaling him to come in with your head.

"Hope it's not too much..", Marcus wonders as he enters the hall of the house.

"It's perfect," you smile warmly as you return from the kitchen with the filled vase and place it on the entryway furniture, admiring the arrangement. You place the palm of your hand on his bicep, reassuring him as you turn to leave.

His eyes shine with appreciation as he takes your palm in his warm hand, planting a soft kiss on the pulse point of your wrist. His scent fills your nostrils, sweet and masculine, and you can almost smell his shampoo as he leans forward. Your lips part and your eyes widen at the intimate contact, but instead of feeling pressured, all you want is for him to do it again on any part of your skin he likes. His plush lips are warm and soft, leaving the slightest trace of moisture as they part your skin, sending a wave of shivers through your body.

You stifle a gasp but you can't hide the dilation of your irises and he can't hide the hunger behind his. He cups your cheek in his hand, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. "Ready?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"As I'll ever be."

The drive is bathed in bits of small talk and comfortable silence, appreciating each other's presence without having to fill the quiet of the cabin every second. Marcus' gaze is split between the road ahead and you at his side. He drives with one hand, his right resting comfortably on the gearbox.

God, you're such a cliché, noticing the way his broad palm rests there, the veins bulging between his fingers and on his hand and it makes you squirm in your seat. Your date hasn't even started yet and you're already feeling uncomfortable in your underwear. Are you that needy? Or is it him? Is he doing this to you?

Joel.

No, stop. Don’t think about him. Not right now. Stop.

Joel.

No.

Joel.

NO.

You don't realize you're holding your breath until Marcus is asking if you're all right.

"What?" you snap out of your haze, jerking your head to look at him. He looks worried, his forehead forming a deep crease between his eyebrows. "I lost you there for a minute, what happened?"

"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine."

"You don't gotta do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine. You're allowed not to be."

You start to contradict him, but then you realize he's right.

"You're right," you admit, looking at him sheepishly. "I'm just nervous- and it's not your fault-" you hasten to explain, "I just haven't done this in so long that it feels like it's happening to someone else, like I'm watching myself from a distance."

He smiles at you knowingly and you add frustratedly, "That's so uncool, I'm sorry, I should be-"

"Moment of truth?" Marcus cuts you off before you can finish your thought.

"Um- OK?"

"I'm already hooked." he bites his lip, stealing a glance in your direction, his shoulders shrugging as if he had just told you the most natural thing in the world.

"Excuse m-" you look at him in bewilderment.

"I know I should play hard to get and do all the stuff everyone does on a first date, act cool and whatnot," he gestures in the air with his free hand, "but really? I'm hooked. Captivated. So-" he takes a deep breath, exhaling forcefully, "if anyone should be anything, it's me, scared that I'm going to screw this up, somehow. But you know what?" he looks at you expectantly, waiting for a response.

"What?" you manage to croak, your whole body buzzing with anticipation.

"I'm going to choose to enjoy this night by being myself-" he stops and scrunches his eyes in thought, "-well, ok, I'm going to hold back a bit," he jokes playfully, making you both laugh at that, relieving some of the tension and he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently, "because I don't know if I'll get another chance. I can only hope that at the end of the night you'll choose to see me again."

He brings your intertwined hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles tenderly. He's said all the right things, everything you want to hear and dear God, he makes you want to climb him like a tree. You bite your lower lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood.

He studies your face and your fluttered expression for a moment, a smile of accomplishment painted on his perfect mouth, before he adds, "And you shouldn't be anything other than what you want to be. Neither of us should."

The date was not what you expected, because it was actually a success. Zero awkwardness, lots to talk about, mutual humor and gentle glances. You started with dinner in a not-too-casual-not-too-formal restaurant and ended up in a great bar, lively but not too loud, where you had delicious cocktails over and over again. Not Marcus though, because he was driving. So responsible, you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck.

Marcus was truly interested in you. He asked you about everything, he really wanted to know about your life. You didn't delve much into the divorce and he didn't push it. But you told him more about your background, your work, your daughters, the challenges of being a single mother and to your surprise, he listened. Actively. When you told him it was his turn to spill the beans, he told you about his job and his specialty; his move to Texas for a fresh start and when you asked him why he felt he needed one, he reluctantly told you about proposing to his girlfriend of two months.

"I know, I know-" he raises his hand in defence as he shakes his head in disbelief, "I don't know what the hell I was thinking, I guess-" he looks down at his empty glass as if searching for answers, "sometimes I have a hard time letting things go."

He dares to meet your eyes through his lashes, to study your reaction. But your expression is neutral, no judgment on your part. "But I'm working on it, letting things happen naturally, you know? If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." he shrugs casually.

"That must be hard for you to deal with." you observe.

"Why would you think that?" he seems curious to know what you think of him, smiling crookedly.

"You strike me as someone who really tries to work things out, to fix what's broken. You don't give up easily, do you?"

His eyes bore into yours as he confirms, "No, I don't," smirking at you. You break eye contact and look down at your lap, biting back a smile of your own.

Suddenly you hear your name being called and you scan the room to find the source. You see Tommy just a few meters away, coming towards you to say hello. Marcus looks between the two of you, his eyes finally landing on yours, catching your faltering smile. "Hey, Tommy, how are you?" you hug him gently and then introduce the two men.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Tommy holds out his hand as Marcus extends his own, "You too."

"Who's the lucky girl this time, Tommy?" you tease with a devilish grin as you wink at him.

"The lucky girl is actually my brother." Tommy laughs breathlessly and your face immediately falls as he points his thumb behind him.

Joel is there at the other end of the bar, sitting on a table, his gaze fixed on you, his whole posture stiff, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard on you. You raise your arm weakly and wave at him, and he nods back sternly.

Marcus misses absolutely none of this.

How long had they been there? How much did he see? Did you do anything inappropriate? you keep checking yourself for any flawed behavior. But then you realize that you don't have to answer to him or anyone else. You can do as you please. So why do you keep hoping you haven't let him down?

"You wanna join us? There's plenty of room, come on.", Tommy invites you to their table.

You feel your legs give out just at the thought of this gathering and you try to decline politely, "We wouldn't want to impose, it's OK-"

Tommy gives you a confused look, as if you haven't spent the best part of the last two years hanging out together. "What the hell are you talking about, love? Come on, move that ass of yours." he waves his head in their direction. You glance swiftly from Tommy to Marcus and then back to Tommy, hoping he'll get the message, but he doesn't. Damn it, Tommy.

Marcus notices your apprehension and puts the palm of his hand on your forearm, caressing your skin with his thumb.

"Are you OK? Do you want to go instead?" he says in a quiet voice, just for you to hear.

You almost jump at his suggestion, "No, no, I just don't want you to think I'm not having a good time with you…" you lower your eyes, feeling vulnerable.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Marcus lowers his head to meet your gaze, "I think I'd know if this date was going south. But if for some reason it is and I'm too smitten to see it, I'm all ears." Marcus searches your eyes and you shake your head with conviction.

"It's not," is all you say, and you lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek, on the side of his face that is hidden from Joel's inspection. As if that would make what you just did any less obvious. Marcus' lips part, and he turns his head sideways to look at your profile, almost brushing it with his own.

His eyes linger on your mouth as you lean back to your seat, and then he licks his lower lip like a starving man preparing for his favorite meal. "Let's go meet your friends before I do something impulsive," he whispers in your ear, his grip on your arm tightening, his nose pressing against your temple and his lips brushing your earlobe.

Goosebumps spread across your skin and you have half a mind to get the fuck out of here and drag him back to your house. But instead you giggle like a schoolgirl and lead the way to hell, feeling the warmth of his hand on your lower back and the moisture of your pussy running down your thigh.

If a person could combust out of stillness, it would be Joel. You're not even sure he's breathing at this point. You train your eyes on his chest, trying to follow the rise and fall of his rib-cage, just to make sure he doesn't faint.

He's sitting directly opposite you, next to his brother, who's sitting opposite Marcus. He's nursing a beer with one hand, the other behind Tommy's seat. He barely speaks to you, he avoids looking at you and that makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong and he's giving you the cold shoulder. It takes everything you've got to swallow the lump in your throat and the tears behind your eyes, but you do it.

The same waitress who took your previous orders comes back and asks what you and Marcus are having. You order a beer, and before Marcus can place his own, Joel spits, "If you're driving her back, you shouldn't be drinking," giving him a disapproving look.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your eyes dart from the waitress to Joel and then to Marcus, ready to apologize on his behalf. You knew Joel could be abrasive, but never so blatantly rude. Those were the first words he said to him.

Jesus, what is his problem?

Marcus seems to be able to handle his own, answering to you instead of Joel without missing a beat. "Good to know you have such protective friends," he says with a twinkle in his eye and then he orders, "I'll have the same as before, thank you.", shifting his gaze to the waitress. "One soda with a slice of orange coming up," she says politely and leaves to get your drinks.

You glare at Joel, but he doesn't seem to be paying attention, although he flinched almost imperceptibly when he heard Marcus' choice of drink. Marcus gives you a gentle kiss on the temple and you begin to suspect that he knows exactly what's going on between you and Joel, whose jaw is twitching at the sight of Marcus' public display of affection towards you.

You envy Tommy at the moment because he seems blissfully unaware, so you turn the conversation to him. Or at least you try, because as soon as you open your mouth to speak, Joel cuts you off and asks Marcus what he does for a living.

You can't help but think that after your first meeting in that god’s forsaken bar, it took him months to strike up a conversation with you, but tonight, for some reason, he just can't seem to shut up.

Marcus, being as polite as ever, gives him the general answer that he works for the government.

"Ah, a white collar," Joel replies condescendingly and your eyes bulge out of their sockets, "must be nice, relaxed." still not looking at you and God does he tick you off. Tommy shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stealing glances at you, not sure what's going on. In any other case you would have found it endearing. Not so much now.

You too are squirming in your seat, trying to think of a way out of this awkward situation. This is not how you imagined your first date would end. And it's certainly not how you expected to meet Joel after all these weeks.

Marcus seems unfazed by the veiled hostility coming his way, smiling back at Joel, almost enjoying the antagonism. "Not necessarily, but I can't talk about it either." This catches Joel's attention and he looks at you questioningly for the first time. You tilt your head slightly to the side, signaling what are you doing? but Joel takes his eyes off you, sipping his beer nonchalantly.

"What about you? What do you do for a living?" Marcus returns the question.

"We're contractors, me and Joel; we're brothers," he gestures between himself and Joel, "and we work together." Tommy chimes in quickly, having reached his limit of awkwardness at the table. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it's not long lived.

"And how do you all know each other?" is the next natural question to come out of Marcus' mouth.

Joel's eyes land on you briefly, something flashes past them and before you can stop him-

"She and I actually met in a bar..." Joel smirks at Marcus, but you speak at the same time-

"Joel-" Your voice is firm as a warning, fully accepting that your tone might be alarming to your unsuspecting company.

"What?" Tommy's voice falters, laughing uncomfortably, completely at a loss. Marcus reads the table, his eyes darting between the three of you, at the same time placing a protective hand over your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

"What?" Joel repeats in a different tenor to his brother and he shrugs, smiling, "It's no big deal, tell them," he has the audacity to put you on the spot, nodding his chin at you.

You feel the contents of your stomach move up your esophagus, cold sweat coats your skin in a thin layer. Betrayal. That's all you can think of. "Uh-", you try to find the words, but nothing comes out, betrayal, you're not good at it, lying doesn't come easy to you, betrayal, especially with three sets of eyes on you. Joel just sits there with a smug look on his face and you wish you had the guts to slap it out of him.

Betrayal.

Marcus' voice brings you back to the present, are you all right?, a soft whisper caresses your ear and soothes your insides. The bile in your throat begins to return to its rightful place, but your eyes are already moist, your waterline glassy, a look of defeat and disappointment painted on your soft face. Joel sees it all written on those contours of yours that he has come to know and marvel at from afar, and it is as if a sudden realization hits him, snapping him out of his asshole behavior. He is cruel to you.

"All right, all right," he rolls his eyes and continues with a sigh, and Tommy's eyes return to his brother, but Marcus' remains fixed on you. "We met in a bar and we had a heated..." he stops abruptly and your face takes on a look of horror as he searches for the right word. "...argument." Joel finally adds. "We exchanged a few words, but then we ran into each other at my cousin's house and the rest is history." he laughs as he waves his hand in the air and winks at you.

You bite your lower lip as hard as you can to keep your chin from trembling, but a single tear of relief or suppressed anger, you're not sure anymore, escapes from the side of your face that only Joel can see, as you give him a forced, watery smile.

Luckily the bar is dimly lit, otherwise they would all be able to see the redness spreading across your chest, the rage manifesting itself on your body. Used and played is how you feel, and Joel is the last person you would have thought would put you in this position. You'd bet all your money on it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Tommy wonders aloud, looking between you and Joel. You clear your throat and have no choice but to confirm Joel's lie. "It felt awkward at the time, so we pretended we didn't know each other. It was an unfortunate moment, one I deeply regret," you lock eyes with Joel and see his facade almost crumbling, "that will never recur, ever again." you continue to stare at him as you speak the last words with concealed bitterness. For the first time that night, he looked down at his lap in shame and regret, pretending to peel the label off his bottle with his thumb.

The ride home was silent, you were emotionally drained, something Marcus picked up on easily, so he simply offered his open palm, which you gladly accepted, tucking your fingers between his own. He continued to caress your skin, back and forth, and it was all you needed to calm your nerves.

As he walked you to the front door of your house, you felt compelled to apologize to him in a profound way. "I'm so sorry about Joel," you shake your head, looking down at your feet, your fingers scratching your forehead, a worried look on your face, "he can be intense sometimes -" why are you defending him?

Marcus lifts your chin with a gentle finger under it, his thumb caressing your jawline. "I don't care about Joel." With one simple sentence, he has erased him from your conversation. No more room for him to steal any longer of your night with Marcus.

“But-”

“I'm the one standing on your porch right now am I not?”, the implication clear in his voice and words.

“I'm not sure what-” you try to avoid confirming or denying his assumptions.

"Mhm," he smiles knowingly, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for something. You feel safe with him, but you can't shake the feeling that you've ruined everything. Marcus' eyes drop to your lips and he slowly leans forward, stopping just inches from you, waiting for you to initiate. You can feel yourself unable to relax, your body stiff, frozen. But you want to, you really do, so you ask instead, "Are you going to do something impulsive now?"

He smiles and leans even closer to your lips, his breath gently fanning across your plump skin. His nose gently nudges yours, "Yes, I think I might."

Your lips almost touch when a muffled voice followed by loud barks startles you both, causing you to pull away and look around for the source of the disruption. After a few seconds, you both see a medium-sized dog running down the street. You wait to see if its owner follows, but no one appears. You turn to look at each other, giggling at the strange interruption.

Marcus caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckles and you lean into his touch, the moment gone and lost. "I hope you had a decent time because I know I had a great one and I really hope I get to see you again."

"Marcus," you scowl at him, "are you fishing for compliments?" you chastise him teasingly.

"Well, a man can dream," he smirks playfully as he tries to get some distance between you in case he comes on too strong.

"You don't have to," you coo, grabbing his collar to crush your lips against his.

After the initial shock, Marcus holds your head in his hands, tilting it to return the kiss and deepen it. His soft lips massage yours, sucking and nibbling at your lower lip. His upper lip and tongue capture yours, tugging gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He licks into your mouth, exploring every soft cavity, and you suck on his tongue in return.

He grunts into your welcoming cavern and you fist the fabric of his shirt that adorns his chest tighter. He presses his body into yours, trying to keep his pelvic area from pressing into your lower abdomen, but you can feel his growing erection inescapably.

You come up for air and murmur into his mouth, "I had a great time and I'd like to do it again".

This time it is he who presses his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently, sucking all the air out of your lungs. Your body is on fire, your abdomen tingling with desire.

You whimper against his lips as you reach for the short curls at the back of his neck, tugging them gently between your fingers, causing him to growl against your wet flesh, and he can feel your nipples poking at his chest through the thin material of your dress as you press your torso against his in sheer determination.

He's sure he's going to lose it and fuck you in front of your house for all your neighbors to see if he doesn't stop now. He breaks the kiss, panting, his eyes boring into yours, your foreheads touching. "Christ, woman," he closes his eyes and laughs to himself, "you're going to give me a heart attack."

"Better me than old age, right?" you try to hide your teasing smile behind your tightly pressed lips.

"Hey, I'm about to arrest you for threatening a government official," he warns without any conviction or authority.

"Are you going to handcuff me, Agent?" you ask, looking at him through your lashes and it comes out more breathless than it should.

"Jesus." Marcus mutters through his teeth, his resolve hanging by a thread. "OK." he gives you a sharp look, "I'm going to leave for the sake of both of us," he says, but his grip on your hip tightens, as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

"You could come in, you know," you offer, looking at him sheepishly.

His expression is pained when he has to turn you down. "And I'd like nothing more, but I want to do this right. Please, let me do this right." Marcus pleads softly, rolling his forehead over yours in desperation.

"What does that even mean?" you ask, a bit embarrassed by his rejection.

"Means I want to wine and dine you, spoil you, give you the perfect date," he coos into the soft skin beneath your ear, making you shudder at his soft promise. "And when you think you can't go another second without my touch, then I'll come in and spoil you some more," he continues, brushing his moist lips along the pillar of your neck. "I will spoil you in all the ways you deserve." he finishes, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your pulse point under your jaw. Your knees buck and your pussy contracts, squeezing out your sweetness at the feel of his warm and wet tongue.

"OK," you breathe out in a shaky voice, nodding dumbly, cupping his face in your hands and planting a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

He smiles and presses his lips to your forehead murmuring "God, you're something," and his heart swells at your tender gesture.

Marcus takes a deep breath, pauses and seems hesitant, but speaks his mind anyway. "OK, I'm going to skip the whole 'three day rule' and call you tomorrow. Is that OK?" he looks anxiously into your eyes, "Am I rushing you?"

A spontaneous laugh escapes your lips at the sound of that. "I just invited you into my house, you think a phone call is going to rush me?" you frown, "You can call me whenever you want.", you say matter of factly. You turn to leave, but change your mind and face him again. "Actually," you bite your lip mischievously, "I need to make sure I can rely on the American authorities, so I'm counting on your word. I'll be expecting a call by tomorrow," you stifle a grin by pressing your lips together.

"Yes, ma'am." Marcus nods in amusement and gives you one last kiss, pressing his lips to yours for as long as he can before ushering you into the house. "Good night," he breathes against your lips.

"Good night," you whisper back with a shy smile and close the door behind you. Marcus walks to his car with a stupid grin plastered on his face, gets in and drives away, but not before making sure you have closed and locked your front door.

In the stillness of the night, Joel takes a moment to assess the situation and satisfied that the coast is clear, he carefully emerges from the large bush he was hiding behind.

He glances down at his dog pissed shoe and mutters to himself,

"Fuck."

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peepawispunk · 12 days ago

Text

Marcus Pike's Secret Kink

Nsfw under the cut.

Tags/warnings: Breeding kink, trying to conceive.

Marcus has been keeping something from you.

He's an absolute freak for creampies/breeding kink.

Like even when you're on birth control you notice after a little while that he's always trying to make excuses for why you should linger in bed for a little while after sex. You finally figure out it's like a "stay put for a while so it takes" kinda thing even though he knows it won't. So you indulge him and let him bring you a drink afterwards, or give you a backrub, or play with your hair.

And of course because it's a kink for him, by the time you're ready to go clean up, he's ready to give you more, because he's hard as fuck all over again.

When he finally realises you know, he's a bit worried that you're going to think he's weird, or trying to get you pregnant on the sly. Instead, you end up talking about how you like it too, and how fucking hot you find that side of him.

You end up deciding not to renew your next prescription for the pill, and when you're finally ovulating, he's like a man possessed. He calls off work and spends the next few days inside you, filling you with his cock and his cum until your fertile window is over.

You both want to get pregnant, but you're both secretly hoping it doesn't happen this time, so you can do it all again next month.

If you liked this, check out my masterlist and AO3

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike imagine

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wildemaven · 1 year ago

Text

Settling into DC with Marcus

#marcus pike #marcus pike imagine #pedro pascal #wildemaven moodboard #wildemaven moodboard Marcus p

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creedslove · 1 year ago

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RE-ENCOUNTER 🎨

Marcus Pike x f!reader

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

Summary: you and Marcus had a brief but loving marriage, until it wasn't anymore. Choosing an amicable divorce you both moved on with your lives until destiny made you run into each other once more, with a difference this time: your ex-husband was engaged now

Warnings: mentions of divorce, a little bit of angst, fluff, some jealousy, age gap (their ages are not specified but he's 10 years older than her)

A/N: besties, I'm so happy I finally managed to write something for our husband Pike. I've always wanted to do so, but I knew I couldn't just force myself into it otherwise it wouldn't work properly, and just like that, this idea came up and I couldn't get it out of my mind ❤️ also, I know some people don't like age gap, but I can't imagine reader being Marcus age mostly because reader is me 🥴 and also because it would make sense to the story, so although it's not specified, I pictured them getting married around early 20s(reader) early 30s (Pike) and running into each other again around late 20s/early 30s (reader) and late 30s/early 40s (Pike)

3.9k words

You weren't fond of getting married young, to you, it sounded nothing like madness, as you simply couldn't wrap your head around the fact that people often abdicated from their lives, plans and dreams to get stuck in a relationship. It made no sense to you, especially since you had been working your ass off during all your years in college, the prospect of having a successful and promising career motivated you to go after your dreams. Relationships, marriages, building up families hadn't crossed your mind at all, a little affair with a cute guy here and there were the only things that ever got remotely close to dating, at the same time you only saw yourself as someone who wouldn't settle down.

And that was before Marcus Pike walked into your life.

If someone asked you to explain what exactly happened, perhaps you wouldn't be able to understand it yourself let alone explain it to someone, but that man swept you off your feet. You'd met him during a history of art lecture at campus one Thursday evening. He had just joined the FBI in the art department, fresh in his new job but still assisting his former professor and mentor in college lectures. He was probably ten or so years older than you, and yet, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. He was by far the most handsome man you'd seen in those four long years you'd spent in that institution, there was something so captivating in his beautiful eyes, his breathtaking smile and how smart and sweet he was towards anyone. And he caught you staring; it seemed you took his attention as much as he took yours, and even if you needed that lecture for extra credit, you couldn't give a single crap about medieval art, because that man was everything you could see in front of you. That was so unlike your personality, usually, you'd be focused on everything else, but you simply couldn't look away from that handsome assistant.

When the lecture was finally over, you were sure you'd missed at least half of it, being too busy concentrating on someone else instead of the subject, you still had a few doubts about the matter and you walked to the stage, willing to ask the professor some questions and clarify any doubts you had, and that was the moment you both locked eyes for the first time. The handsome guy that caught your attention, whose name was Marcus, soon found out the moment you shook hands and realized how big his was compared to yours and how truly handsome he was, even more so than you had already noticed when you were a few meters away. He was also mesmerized by you and he couldn't hide it, he knew you were younger than him, but at that moment all he could process was how gorgeous and smart that girl was in front of him. He kept around while you talked to his mentor, being polite enough not to interrupt him but holding himself back so he wouldn't add his own comments. He just wanted an excuse to talk to you, see if he could approach and see where things could go, so the moment he had the opportunity to be with you alone for a while, he immediately threw his charms - and Marcus was a charming guy - in your first conversation you liked how intelligent and nice he was, he made you laugh and when he invited you to have pancakes some dinner nearby the campus, you couldn't say no.

And that was the beginning of your love story.

Everything you believed went through the roof from the moment you met Marcus. He was incredible, the most fascinating man you'd met and whereas he was older than you, that only seemed to spice things up both in the sexual and emotional sense. You had never been treated like that before, he made you feel like a queen, as cheesy as it may sound, that's just how you felt through your relationship with Marcus. He was a gentleman, sweet and he didn't know what to do in order to please you; he went slowly at first, even if his intentions were clear from the very first time you went out to eat, he was a little afraid you would be weirded out by him, and he couldn't be further from the truth. Each time he took you out on a date, it felt like you were living the plot of any sweet but cliche rom com movie. It felt just too good to be true and a part of you feared that it wouldn't work. But it did, for as long as it lasted.

The dates with Marcus were so special, he was thoughtful and he always made sure to take you somewhere nice; it was either a nice restaurant so you could get to know their different menu, or art galleries in which he would show you his favorite works and tell you as much as you wanted to hear about them. He was always afraid of boring you with his subjects but on the contrary, you always enjoyed listening to him talk, it was entertaining, soothing and you could spend hours watching how his eyes sparkled whenever he addressed anything he truly enjoyed. And even if he put some effort into them, your favorite date by far was whenever you two would spend some time just hanging out together in his apartment. Dim lights, old movies on TV and Marcus' protective grip around your body, always pulling you closer and making sure you were warm in his embrace for the rest of the night.

The first kiss you shared with him after you both went to the movies together. It was a classic movie rerun and even if Casablanca wasn't your favorite, you knew he enjoyed it, and seeing it on a big screen was definitely a nice experience. Besides, he promised you that once Titanic hit the theaters in the next classic session, he would definitely take you.

At the end of the movie, you walked out the theater holding hands, you were silent, but instead of reflecting over the story you'd just watched you reflected over your relationship with Marcus; you were falling deeper and deeper for him, deeper and more intensely than you ever thought you would, and when he stopped and placed your hands on your hips you couldn't resist being kissed by him.

It felt right.

The first night you both spent together was right after he took you to see the concert of his former band; he'd left the band when he graduated from college, but he still remained friends with the guys and eventually enjoyed visiting them on stage. And that night he insisted on taking his bass for a last ride and even risked a song on the microphone, all of that for you.

By then, there was no fighting or convincing otherwise, you were head over heels for Marcus; especially when you two had sex for the first time after that. One could think Marcus is too soft, but not when it comes to that; he knows how to act, how to please and how to demand what he wants and after you tried him, a real man, there was no way you could go back to college boys ever again.

Your relationship evolved fast and in less than a year he proposed to you; he was sure you were what he wanted in the future, just as you had thrown away all your beliefs and you'd surrounded yourself completely to the man you loved, so you said yes. Even if your whole life you said you wouldn't get married, not while young at least, not without having a consistent, successful career.

And there you were, fresh out of college, with very little work experience, a job in an area you didn't want but had to take in order to gather experience and knowledge and walking down the aisle in a white dress, feeling as happy as you could be, in order to become Mrs.Pike. The honeymoon had to be in Paris, a few people told you that couldn't be more cliche, and even if they meant it out of spite or if they were actually right, it didn't really matter to you; it felt so right for the two of you. Surrounded by art constantly during the day and making love at night, it was like a dream coming true, and you remember hoping your entire marriage would be like that: light, fun, full of love and happiness. And it was until it wasn't anymore.

You couldn't tell exactly when things started to go downhill, but if you had to guess, it would probably be due to the lack of time you both faced towards the end of your relationship. It just started getting harder after about a year, when the two of you really began struggling for your own careers. You, in your area, and Marcus with the FBI, it seemed to have become an obsession for you both, as date nights, walks in the park and gallery visitations simply stopped happening in order to focus on your extra tasks, overtime, solving cases. At some point it became a looping of excuses and promises to spend more time together:

"We'll go next weekend honey"

"We can have dinner together tomorrow"

"I promise I'll take you with me next time"

Needless to say, they never truly happened.

Just as you two distanced yourselves without even realizing, the bickering also started, adding another venomous sting to your relationship. Suddenly, small things turned into bigger ones, sources of stress and fights; if someone ever told you one day you'd have heated arguments with Marcus over a dropped sock, or an unwashed plate on the sink, you would call them crazy, but when that unfortunately happened to the two of you, you were shocked for a while, not believing you had become the kind of couple to argue over stupid things like those. It was heartbreaking. As you two barely had time for each other, sex was also off the table most nights, being too tired to do anything else other than sleep, Marcus suddenly came up with the idea of having a baby; he had a deep hope of fixing your marriage by getting you pregnant, after all, having kids had always been part of his plan and he was sure it was part of yours too.

At the same time you hadn't really thought it through. Technically, you had. You wanted kids. At some point, in the future, it wasn't rocket science to figure that adding a baby to a troubled marriage could not be the best idea. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, not when you saw the spike of excitement in his eyes, not when he held you and kissed you like in the beginning of your relationship, how he made time for you even if his FBI work was killing him, he still managed to bring you flowers, kiss you and made love to you. Perhaps he was trying to save your marriage, or he was just trying for the baby, you weren't so sure, but you could see the effort. And it was why it broke your heart to know you couldn't get pregnant at that moment, not with your job finally taking you places, the new opportunity of actually building a career and how young you still thought you were, being married was hard, but it was about you and Marcus, two adults who could handle yourselves but a baby? It was way too much responsibility. You couldn't find a way to tell him that, even if you were being a coward, it pained you you felt so hopeless to simply lie to Marcus and tell him you'd stopped taking your birth control pills, and even more so each time he looked at you with those disappointed, sad eyes, month after month of excitement and longing for that baby to be there, just to get a negative test after another. It was eating you up alive and after his insistence on taking you to a doctor - which you immediately refused - he managed to find your hidden stash of pills among your stuff. You tried explaining everything to him; how you weren't ready, you were scared and how broken you'd been at seeing him so upset. You cried, you opened your heart to Marcus and told him you wanted to be a mom to his child, some day, not at that moment, but in the future because things were finally working for the two of you once more. But you had lied to your husband, and lying to Marcus had no turning back.

He had no other option other than asking for a divorce after you lied and broke his heart, he felt upset, he could've forgiven you for many things, but not for playing with his heart when it came to the kids he dreamed of every single day.

You were tired, upset and at some point during your divorce process you'd convinced yourself you didn't love him anymore, but the reality was that you were just so empty you weren't able to feel things, you were numb.

The day you both signed the divorce papers in front of your lawyer and you were questioned whether you two wanted to go ahead with that decision, your heart shattered into a million pieces, more than any fights, when you heard Marcus' justification to why he was asking for the divorce.

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

When you heard those words, you had a sudden urge to get up and tear those papers into pieces, tell him you were both making a huge mistake, that toyover him and that you could make it work, you wanted to tell him you still had a beautiful future ahead of you, you and the gorgeous family you would have together. And the moment you took a deep breath to finally say all that out loud, you looked at Marcus signing the papers and officializing the divorce.

That was the last time you saw your ex-husband Marcus Pike, you just had no idea the next time you would run into him again would be in a few years later, while he was taking his new fiancee on a date.

•••

Marcus sighed as he could see the lack of excitement in Teresa's face the moment they got to the exhibit, he just didn't know why she agreed to go out with him if she didn't like it, it would be so much easier for the two of them if she was honest and told him she'd rather stay home and read a magazine, that way they would both be happy, and Marcus wouldn't have the feeling he was trying too hard all the time. Teresa liked him, she must have liked him, otherwise she wouldn't have accepted his proposal and moved to DC with him. It was still early, she'd been there for a few weeks but he was confident things would work. He was hitting his forties now, one divorce, no kids and even if he finally got the position he had not only dreamed of but also worked so hard for in his dream job, he still felt something was missing. It took him a failed marriage to realize that money wasn't everything he needed, he simply missed the family he never had.

When he found Teresa he was still trying to pick the pieces of his heart, still trying to make things work on his own and when he saw her - an attractive, mature and intelligent woman, he thought that maybe he wouldn't be alone this time. You'd been the love of his life, he was convinced of that, but you two had gone way too fast and too intense, you were still young, you had so much to live so it made sense to him he would let you go and be free. He vowed himself not to rush into things, but this time it wasn't his choice, he was liking Teresa more and more and even if they weren't compatible most of the time, but when the opportunity of a lifetime came up he had to take his chances and she'd said yes. Still a little unsure and divided between him and Jane, but she said yes.

As they walked through the exhibit, he paid close attention to all the beautiful paintings scattered around the long hallways. He loved that atmosphere, the pictures so beautifully made by talented hands years or sometimes centuries ago.

"So it's just flowers?!" Teresa broke the silence as she looked around unimpressed and dragged his attention back to reality

"It's not just flowers, it's Monet… don't you like it? You told me you liked his paintings on our first date.." Marcus stated confused until the realization that she was just lying so she wouldn't appear ignorant or perhaps try to impress him a little. He saw how she cleared her throat and tried fixing what she just said but he stopped listening the moment he caught a glimpse of someone else crossing the same room and standing next to Rouen Cathedral, admiring it intently. He didn't even need to look twice to know it was you. You, who always loved that painting, even if it wasn't Monet's best in your ex-husband's opinion, you who had a fascination with old constructions such as cathedrals and would always snap several pictures of them, you, who was never exceptional at art but managed to get by and eventually fell more and more in love with art because of Marcus, not because you wanted to impress him or have him thinking you were smart, but because he actually made you see why he had that passion for it. And the moment that you turned around, his heart skipped a beat.

You looked the same, and yet, you also managed to look even more beautiful; more mature, more confident in yourself and for a brief moment Marcus was frozen in time, it was just like the first time he saw you, in which he could only see you in front of him and nothing else. He had no idea you still had that effect on him, it was so unusual and surprising and even if he had stalked your social media profiles here and there over the course of your separation, even if he wasn't proud of it, it was completely different than seeing you right there in front of him. He wasn't sure what to do, should he approach you? Talk to you? Pretend he didn't see you?

However, he didn't time to think any further about it, not when you turned around and spotted him, your eyes widening at the moment you saw him. Much to your surprise your heart also raced at the sight of your ex-husband. Was it your mind playing tricks or was he even more handsome? You hadn't planned on approaching him, but you felt as if you were being taken involuntarily towards him.

"Marcus?! Hi!" You said with a sweet smile as he politely greeted you, expressing how surprised he was to see you and even more so to actually talk to you

"Wow, you look great… So beautiful" he smiled as you blushed softly and giggled

"You too, still very handsome… so what brings you to D-" you interrupted by a woman who walked in and wrapped her arm around his waist. She eyed you up and down, even if she still tried to be polite and discreet about it. You swallowed hard feeling awkward and Marcus turned to the other woman

"This is Teresa, my fiancee and this is my ex-wife" he cleared his throat as he said your name and Teresa simply nodded her head. You returned the gesture and the moment you meant to ask him a question she barged in

"You're his ex-wife? But you're so young…" you could see the light pink spreading through his cheek and groaned at how dumb she really was.

"Yeah, I'm younger than him… and are you a little older than Marcus?" You returned the sting with the same amount of poison and she scoffed, looking at him and groaned

"I'll go to the restroom" she said without looking into your eyes and walked away, making you chuckle as Marcus shot you a questioning look which you just shrugged and went back to the question that was lingering on your mind

"So, what are you doing here in DC? Having a romantic getaway or vacations?"

"Actually, I've moved here after I was promoted to the head of the new art department" he said with his typical smile and you could see how his eyes crinkled, your heart warming up as you expressed genuine surprise and happiness to know that. You were a witness to how hard he had worked for that and it just filled your heart with pride to know he made it. You weren't sure how to act, perhaps it wasn't right, but you had already wrapped your arms around his neck and given him probably the tightest hug you'd ever done. Even if it was brief, you couldn't help but feel how built up he was, how stronger he'd become and his characteristic scent made you so warm on the inside, it felt like you could've stayed forever in his embrace.

"I'm so happy for you, Marcus! Honestly, you deserve it! I know I haven't been the most supportive wife and I'm very sorry about everything that happened, I should've been nicer to you, but well, all I'm trying to say is that I'm so proud of you!"

You said wholeheartedly and even if there were so many other things you needed to tell him, you knew it wasn't the right time and place. He just smiled and nodded, taking your hands into his big ones and thanking you for the support.

"Do you think we could grab a coffee or something? Just catch up?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know if it's a good idea, I mean, I can tell Teresa isn't my biggest fan and being honest with you, I wouldn't like my fiance's ex-wife around very much, but it's amazing to see you Marcus, truly, it makes me glad to know you are somewhat closer" you smiled again but let go of his hands the moment Teresa returned. Once more she just lingered around him, almost territorial as if she wanted to show you who owned Marcus. He also felt that, and it made him quite uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat and looked at you, saying goodbye and explaining they had dinner reservations.

As you watched them both leave, you felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the wonderful place he was probably taking her, the elaborate dates he had planned, the beautiful family they would probably build together. It could've been you, it was you for a while, unlike he might have thought you wanted all that with him, but it took you a divorce to realize it was a situation of the right person, wrong time. Perhaps if you tried again, it would work, you would like it to work, but Marcus had moved on, found himself someone he cared about and you had no right to break his heart and ruin his happiness once more.

____

A/N: my besties, I really hope you enjoyed it! I don't know if this is just a one-shot or if there'll be a continuation but I am so happy how this turned out. I love Marcus and I'm so happy our handsome FBI boyfriend finally got his own piece here! ❤️ remember that feedback is life, I'd love to hear what you all thought of it ❤️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike one shot

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atinylittlepain · 1 year ago

Text

Marcus Pike x f!reader

(there is no masterlist for this man, good luck to this man)

He's looking for something other than vanilla, and she is more than happy to provide such a service to him.

warnings | 18+ this is smut, pegging, rimming, sucking and fucking, sex work, lowkey sugardaddy!marcus, sweet shy marcus getting his world rocked, and then pancakes and a blackberry and a black american express card so ya know, the works.

a/n | this was written LAST MAY woof - i think originally it was supposed to be for the first round of the PMAMC (also woof) but she's here now :') special thanks to @wannab-urs for resurrecting this fucker. there is a part two... just sayin

..............................

The first thing she notices about him is that he’s nervous. He keeps loosening and tightening his tie, eyes glancing around in quick, anxious sweeps. He’s definitely never been here before, she would’ve remembered a face that handsome, strong jaw under a little scruff and big brown eyes that set a smile tugging at her lips when he finally meets her gaze.

“Hey there, handsome, welcome in. First time?” His eyes drop down to the floor, a clipped laugh coming out as she steps closer to him.

“Am I that obvious?” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes crinkled in a shy smile that sets warmth spreading in her chest, bringing a delicate palm to his shoulder.

“Just never seen you around before, that’s all. What brings you to Pandora’s tonight?”

“Well, I, uh– I wanted to– um–” He cuts his own rambling off, jaw slack as he watches a man in head to toe latex walk by, being led on a leash by one of her coworkers.

“Hey, don’t worry about them. I wanna know what you want. Would you feel more comfortable talking some more in one of our private rooms?” Eyelashes fluttering, spine arched, she knows exactly how to reel them in, noting the dip and bob of his throat as he nods.

“I– yeah, um, yes please.” Manners, she likes that. She slips her hand down his arm, taking his hand before turning heel and tugging him down the dark hallway, taking them into one of the vacant playrooms. It’s one of the tamer rooms, a four poster bed in the middle, red silk sheets, and a dark chest of drawers off to the side full of all sorts of fun. She guides him to sit down on the end of the bed beside her, his hands immediately going to his thighs in a nervous squeeze. His eyes are still darting everywhere, but mostly to the tops of her breasts, pressed up in the strappy leather corset she has on, though he doesn’t let his gaze linger there long before jerking his eyes back up to her face.

“You don’t have to be nervous, baby. I just want to hear a little about why you came in, and how you’d like to be taken care of tonight, alright?” He nods, clearing his throat a few times before replying.

“I just– you gotta know that I’ve never done anything like this before, really. But, I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try something different? My, well my ex-wife, I think she thought I was too, um, vanilla. So I guess I want to– not be– um, vanilla anymore. And, Jesus Christ, you probably think I’m crazy, huh?” Somehow, he manages to still be handsome and look like a kicked puppy at the same time, and she has to resist the urge to push his flop of hair back and press a kiss to the crease between his brows.

“Not crazy at all. So when you say not vanilla, what does that mean to you?” When he gives her no answer, eyes only widening as he seems to wrack his brain for what to say, she laughs lightly, bringing a palm to his thigh and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Why don’t we start with the basics? Do you see yourself being more of a dom or a sub?”

“I– what does that mean, dom and sub?” Oh boy, more basic than the basics then.

“Dom is shorthand for dominant, that’s the person in control in the relationship, and they’re usually the one inflicting any pain, if you’re into that. And sub means submissive, that’s the person who follows the dom’s commands, who gets taken care of.”

“Oh, right, that makes sense. I mean, I don’t think I’d be very good at being in control like that, so I guess, more submissive?” I’ll say. She offers him a nod and smile, still trying to coax some of his anxiety out of him.

“Sounds good, handsome. If it’s alright with you, I can be your partner for the night. Let’s get some paperwork for you and then we can get started, ok?” He only nods, something she’s going to have to work on with him.

“For this to work, I’m gonna need you to always use your words with me, alright? That way I know exactly what you do and don’t like.” She says it to him over her shoulder as she rifles through the chest of drawers, getting out a waiver and a pen for him.

“Uh, yes, ok, I can– I can do that.” She sits back down beside him with a hum, passing him the paperwork, watching his brow furrow as he reads over it.

“That’s a list of kinks we do and don’t participate in. Are there any that you’re particularly interested in exploring tonight?” Another clear of his throat, keeping his eyes glued to the paper when he responds.

“Do men– do men really like that? I mean, I’ve heard of it, but, does it feel good?” She looks over his shoulder to where his finger is pointing, her lips crooking into a smile when she sees what’s caught his attention.

“Mmhmm, it can be very pleasurable, with an experienced partner, of course.”

“And you– are you, um, experienced?” Her smile broadens into a grin at his question, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Oh baby, I’m very experienced. Is that something you’d like to try out tonight?” He seems to consider it, his eyes darting from her lips back up to her gaze a few times before he finally nods.

“Fuck it, yeah, I wanna do that. But is it ok if that’s the only thing we do on this list? I don’t think I’m really into the whole– chains and whips thing.” She laughs at that, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she nods.

“Whatever you want. Just need you to sign that waiver which basically affirms that we’re all clean here at Pandora’s, and you are too. You’re familiar with our pricing, right? It’s three hundred for an hour, and five for two.”

“Is it ok if I do two?”

“You’re the customer, honey. What you say goes.” With a decisive nod, he ticks the box next to two hours on the form, signing his name on the dotted line before handing her back the pen and paper.

“Nice to officially meet you, Marcus. You can call me Daisy, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” As she sets the paperwork down on the chest of drawers, he lets out a light laugh, drawing her attention over her shoulder.

“That’s not your real name, is it?” Stepping out of her heels, she pads back over to him, standing right between his legs, setting down the items she grabbed before guiding his hands onto her hips.

“It’s not, is there something else you’d like to call me for the night?” He takes a sharp inhale as she drags his hands from her hips, up and up until his palms are cupping her breasts through her corset.

“I, um– Daisy’s good, yeah.” Letting her hands fall away from his, his eyes search hers, obvious in looking for permission that she’s happy to give.

“You can touch me, Marcus, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Can I take this off of you?” His fingers are toying with the laced-up front of her corset, which she lightly bats away.

“It’s a little tricky, let me.” She makes deft work of unlacing the garment, a known path for her fingers that usually bores her, though there’s a little kick of something else, him watching her and the fine flicker of her hands. Marcus lets out a laugh at the grin she offers him, fizzling in his throat when she lets the corset fall away to reveal herself to him, standing before him in only her barely-there shorts. The heat of his hands just hovers over the swell of her breasts, and she can’t help the sigh that thrums in her throat when he finally lets his palms press against her skin. It’s not often that a client affects her like this, and she has to clear her throat to refocus on the real task at hand.

“Why don’t we get you out of your clothes? Sit back for me.” She’s undone dozens of ties, worked her fingers through miles of shirt buttons, and doesn’t even have to look to get trousers unfastened now, but she can’t shake the prickle running up her spine at the way his eyes follow every movement, and she can’t hide the shudder that runs through her when he tentatively tucks her hair behind her ear as she works his pants down his hips.

“Have you been doing this for long?” She shoots him a look from her spot between his legs, his pants discarded to leave him in just his briefs.

“Are you really trying to make small talk?” Oh, he’s blushing now. She likes that, crawling closer and dipping her head down to press a kiss to the center of his chest before dragging her lips up and up, catching at the bob in his throat before letting her mouth just hover over his, feeling the shaky pants of his breath.

“There’s no need for that, Marcus. I’m gonna take care of you now, and I need you to tell me what you like, and what you don’t, do you understand?” His voice comes out a little hoarse, and she can feel the thrum of it where her chest is brushing against his.

“Yes, I understand.” A grin is all she gives him, ducking down before his lips can meet hers as she lets her mouth drag a trail down his torso until she’s nipping at the waistband of his briefs.

“Can I take these off?” When all he does is nod, she gives his hip a light pinch, something between a laugh and a grunt jumping from his chest at the sensation.

“Yeah, you can take them off, I– sorry.” She smoothes her palm over the spot she pinched, smiling up at him.

“That’s ok, baby. Just remember your words for me.” He can’t be real, that’s all she can figure when she gets him totally bare before her, his cock a perfect pink that matches the flush on his chest, thick enough to set her jaw aching in anticipation, and long, pre-come smearing in the tuft of hair over his pelvis. She can’t help but wonder why the fuck anyone would ever want to leave him when he’s this pretty to look at.

“Can I touch you? Get you warmed up for me?” He’s propped up on his elbows to watch her kneeling between his legs, lips swollen from how much he’s been biting them, slightly parted in something like wonder.

“Yeah, yes, please.”

“Hmm, I like a boy with some manners. Just relax, Marcus, and remember, I’m here to take care of you.” With that, she presses a kiss just below his belly button, smiling against the twitch of his muscles before dipping down and letting her lips ghost over the underside of his cock. It’s involuntary, the hum she lets out when she takes him fully into the heat of her mouth, relaxing her throat like she’s learned to do, a necessary move in order to take all of him. And he’s perfect beneath her, thighs flexing under her splayed palms, low moans rumbling in his chest as she alternates between swallowing him down and lapping at his leaking tip. She knows she’s done her job, that she’s loosened him up, when those moans start to get a little louder, a little more drawn out, and he slumps down off his elbows to run a hand through his hair, eyes scrunched shut. A kiss over one hip, then the other, keeping her palm steady on his heaving belly while she reaches for the lube, his eyes squinting open to see why she stopped.

“You ever used lube before?”

“No, never needed to, I guess.”

“Well it’s gonna be your best friend tonight. I’m gonna warm a little up in my palms and then I’ll let you get used to the feel of it, ok?” He hums out an mmhmm, watching her hands rub in quick circles, his eyes following the subtle shake of her breasts with the movement. And when she gets her hands on him again, slicking her palm up his cock, a hiss slips through his lips.

“Sorry, is it still cold?”

“No, fuck– just feels really good.” She grins at that, letting her wrist flick, hand in an easy glide as she slips her palm down to cup the weight of his balls, his groan cracking and shooting up an octave, hips jolting at the sensation.

“Has no one touched you like this before, baby?”

“I– Jesus, no– no one’s done that before.”

“Well that’s just not right. Feels good, huh?” A little squeeze to punctuate her question sets another moan loose in his chest as he presses his head back into the sheets.

“Y-yes, feels really good.” She nudges his thighs open a bit more, letting her hand slip down lower, not pressing, but circling, gauging how he reacts as she keeps her other hand easily stroking his cock.

“Remember, need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t. We can stop at any time. Do you like what I’m doing right now?” His eyes are still shut tight, one hand fisted in his hair, the other tangled in the sheets, pleasure pulling his whole body taut.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s, hah– it’s different, good, different good.” His words go a bit slurred when she presses her finger forward, opening him up as he lets out another breathy moan.

He takes it well, whimpers and moans crackling in his throat as she starts a steady thrust, only pausing to work a little more lube over her hand.

“Doing so good for me, Marcus. You wanna try taking a little more?” He sits up on his elbows, surprising her a bit with his firm reply.

“I want more, want you to use that on me, please.” He tilts his head over to the strap laying on the end of the bed, once again catching her off guard.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” He tilts his head at her, a crooked smile on his face.

“Didn’t you say something about the customer always being right?” She lets out a real laugh at that, shaking her head at him as he just grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“I guess so. Alright, handsome, why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me? We’ll take it nice and slow.” He seems a bit taken aback by that request, his smile going a little slack as she gets off the bed to step into her harness, though he catches himself, clearing his throat and shifting around on the bed into the position she asked for.

She can’t help herself, getting back on the bed and kneeling behind him, laying a quick pat to his very cute ass that has him craning his neck over his shoulder to look at her.

“Sorry, just looks so good I had to give it a little tap. You ready for me?” He hums his assent as she slicks her fake cock in lube, bringing one palm over his low back in a reassuring circle as she scoots in closer.

“Just relax, Marcus, this is about you feeling good. That’s it, open up for me.” She works her strap in slow, curling over him to press her lips in a murmuring of praise into his shoulder blades as he whimpers beneath her, his hands fisted tight in the sheets.

“How’re you feeling, baby? Is it too much? We can go back to what we–”

“No, no. I just– just need a minute, fuck– didn’t think it’d feel this good.” She’s not being professional about this, she knows it too, but she doesn’t care. A professional would be checking the clock, making sure that he gets his before his time is up. A professional wouldn’t be laying kisses over his shoulders, whispering to him that he’s doing so good, that he can take it, that he’s so pretty like this. But nothing about the way she wants him right now feels professional, the way she wants to take care of him, to make him feel good, to keep him feeling good for as long as she can.

“Just say the word. I move when you want me to.”

Slow and smooth, nothing but patience and permission in how she fucks him, her hips slotting with his again and again and again, simmering down into a close press, her chest draped over his back and her hand working his cock in time with her thrusts when he finally unravels beneath her. He slumps down onto his forearms, a slur of curses punching out of his lungs as she runs her palms up and down his shuddering back. But what he does next is so unexpected she finds herself at the mercy of his movements. The moment she pulls her hips away from his, he turns over underneath her, still catching his breath as his hands find her hips, insistent and harsh in the way he pulls her down onto the bed. He’s certainly a sight, cheeks flushed and hair perfectly mussed up in every direction, his eyes blown dark and wide as he hovers over her.

“Can I take care of you now? Is that allowed?” A professional would say no, that his time is up, get him a towel and a glass of water and process his credit card.

She doesn’t say no.

He fumbles a bit with the straps of the harness, letting out an impatient groan that makes her giggle, quick to bat his hands away and make easy work of shimmying the whole thing down her legs. And the smile he gives her as she does is downright sheepish.

“That’s, uh, a bit tricky.” She brushes his hair back out of his face, thumb settling against the dimple in his cheek, a move that’s entirely too sweet and she knows it.

“Just a little. I’m all yours now though.” He doesn’t waste any time, ducking his head down to press a sweet kiss over the top of her breast that turns salacious when he slides his tongue down over the tight peak of her nipple, her back arching up into the heat of his mouth as he lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. His hands are splayed around her hips, greedy and insistent in the way his fingers curl and press into her ass, lifting her hips up to slide her tiny shorts off her legs before he settles back between her thighs, his nose brushing against her twitching stomach, dark eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“Is this ok? Can I taste you? Make you feel good like that?” He steals a move from her book when all she does is nod, his hand that’s still curled around her hip laying a gentle pinch to the swell, his grin going boyish as she huffs out a laugh.

“Can I have your words, Daisy, please?” She tilts her head at his shy question, enjoying the flushed flare creeping up his cheeks.

“Hmm, you’re a fast learner, huh? Yeah, baby, I want your mouth, Want you to make me feel good.”

It’s not that she had been expecting him to be bad at it. But she also hadn’t been expecting him to be so fucking good either. Head thrown back, thighs trembling around his scruff, moaning his name good. He’s not precious about it, licking a flat stripe through her cunt before letting his tongue catch on her clit in a harsh press, dipping back down to lap up the slick pooling at her entrance, a continuous circuit of pleasure that has every muscle in her body tensing up. He groans low in his chest when she rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging just a bit unkindly when his teeth graze her clit. One large palm snakes up to grasp at the swell of one of her breasts, his other hand pressed across her pelvis to keep her spasming hips still as he fucks her with his tongue, the strong hook of his nose dragging across her clit with each pass. And it hits her all at once, that snare of pleasure snapping hot and hard as she comes with a stilted moan of his name, her heel pressing between his shoulder blades, keeping him exactly where he is, and he continues to work her over as she comes undone on his mouth.

She tugs at his hair again when it becomes too much, her hips jolting at the thrumming chuckle he lets out when he finally pulls away, resting his cheek against her hip while she tries to catch her breath. They lay like that for a hiccup of time, just staring at each other, a dazed smile on his glistening lips that she knows is mirrored in her own hazy grin. Eventually she lets out a long sigh, reaching out for him and thumbing away some of her arousal that’s smeared across his jaw.

“Do you wanna, like, get a burger or something?”

“Is that– is that a part of my two hours?” “Oh baby, your two hours were up a while ago.”

…

He’s waiting for her right outside the club, and she mentally kicks herself for having worn sweats and a hoodie in for her shift earlier, though he doesn’t seem to mind, smiling big and broad when she steps outside to join him.

“I know you said burgers, but there’s a diner around the corner that does the best pancakes in DC. Sound good to you?” She likes this version of him too, confident, certain, a bit old-fashioned with the way he holds his arm out for her to take like they didn’t just wreck each other a few moments ago, letting her hold onto him the whole walk over to the diner, opening the door for her, the whole chivalric production.

It’s so late at night, they’re virtually the only people in the place, tucking into a cracked vinyl booth and putting in their order, pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon, the works. And they share every last bite, having both clearly worked up an appetite after their evening together.

Though he’s vague about it, she can suss out for herself that he’s some sort of higher-up government type, she knows them well, and in turn, she answers his questions about her, that her work at Pandora’s is good enough to be supporting her through college, Marcus seeming to perk up when she tells him she’d like to be an art teacher one day. He’s older than her, at least enough to have already been married and divorced, but she can’t find it in herself to care about that, too busy enjoying their easy conversation, the subtle game of footsie they have going on under the table, and the way he smiles at her, all of his attention on her. It’s so strange, so different, so starkly contrasted to the way her nights usually go, not that she minds the simple rotation of disinterested clients, but she hasn’t had someone look at her, really look at her the way Marcus is, in quite a while.

“I have to admit, I wasn’t really expecting my night to end like this.” Plates long cleared, each of them nursing a mug of coffee as the first sweeps of dawn start to light up the streets outside, she smiles at his admission.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” He grins at her question, leaning in on his elbows like he has the wildest secret to tell her.

“Really good surprise. I mean, I just think you’re– amazing. Fuck, is that weird of me to say?” She mirrors him, leaning in on her elbows, a smile threatening to quirk her lips.

“Hmm, no, it’s cute. For the record, I think you’re kinda amazing too.” Their faces are so close, and she realizes all at once that she hasn’t even kissed him yet.

“Only kinda, huh? Guess I didn’t do my job then.” She can almost feel the curve of his smile as she laughs at his simpering response, the sound getting swallowed when he closes the space between them, pressing his lips to hers. And he’s good at this too, his palm coming to cup her jaw, thumb stroking along her cheek as he deepens the kiss, licking into her mouth and nearly melting her on the spot. Though it’s over too soon for her liking when they get interrupted by someone clearing their throat in front of their table, pulling away to see the rather annoyed looking waitress setting their check down and shuffling away with a sour side-eye. She opens her mouth to protest when Marcus reaches for his wallet, but he waves his hand, black American Express glinting in the diner’s fluorescent lights.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do after going over my two hours.” She can tell he means it as a joke, a flippant remark, but her stomach still sinks at even the suggestion of this still being a business transaction. It’s a sore spot for her, and though she’s more than comfortable with the work she does, her exes hadn’t been, nor had they been kind about it for that matter.

Busy signing the check, Marcus doesn’t notice the way her face falls, and she’s already out of the booth and halfway out the door of the diner when he finally calls out for her, further rubbing salt in the wound when the name he uses is Daisy.

“Woah, woah, hey, what happened in there?” The hand he hooks around her bicep is gentle but insistent, and she can’t help the tears threatening to spill over when he turns her around to look at him in the faint morning light.

“Look, if that’s all this is to you, just business, that’s fine, but I have enough respect for myself to not–” He cuts her off, bringing his broad palm to cup her cheek again, his eyes wide and unwavering.

“Hey, that’s not what this is– I mean, at least not anymore. We did meet under some, ah, particular circumstances. But this isn’t business to me now, if that’s ok with you?” He thumbs away her stray tears, and she nearly goes dizzy with the relief she feels hearing those words from him.

“I’m sorry, baby, it was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t even thinking.” Baby, it’s the second time he’s called her that. She’s never anyone’s baby, they’re always hers, but she likes it now, coming from him, finding herself smiling into his touch.

“I don’t want you to call me Daisy.” His eyes soften, smile tempering as he nods.

“Ok, what should I call you?” She tells him her real name, and with it, the last shred of her professionalism dissolves, and she doesn’t care one bit. He says her name like he’s rolling a hard candy around in his mouth, slow sugar in each syllable before he presses a kiss between her brows, lips trailing down to catch hers in a sweet smack.

“Can I see you again? And, definitively not as, um, as business?” It makes her laugh, how quickly he shifts between confidence and constraint. She likes both.

“I would really really like that, Marcus. Am I giving you my number or are you giving me yours?” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, like he’s surprised she actually wants that, though he’s quick to catch himself, clearing his throat and smiling.

“Uh, both? Both is good, right?” They swap phones, and she can’t help thinking to herself that of course this man has a Blackberry, stifling a giggle as she types in her number.

“Can I walk you to your car? It’s back at the club, right?”

“Oh, I don’t have a car, actually. Just take the bus to get around.” He doesn’t seem to like that, lips pressing into a thin line as he looks at her.

“How about I get you home this morning? Would that be ok?” Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t dream of getting into the car of a man she just met, but seeing as she’s already broken a dozen of her cardinal rules with him, she doesn’t think twice about getting into his sleek BMW that’s still parked outside the club. He keeps a palm splayed just above her knee, thumb idly swiping back and forth, a soothing lull as she gives him directions toward her apartment complex. She hates to admit it to herself, but she’s a bit reluctant to get out when he does pull up to her building, leaning over the console for a kiss that he willingly gives her.

“So I’ll call you?” She lays a kiss to the small patch in his scruff, smiling against his skin when he lets out a huff.

“I’ll answer. Thank you, Marcus, for a really nice night, and morning.”

When she gets inside her apartment, she slumps back against the door, blowing out a long exhale and shaking her head.

“Fuck.” Her boss is going to kill her, but she doesn’t really care.

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike angst #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x female reader

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fandomgirlz01 · 10 days ago

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To all who have added themselves to previous Taglists...

We have revamped our Taglists because it was getting hard to tag some of you and we don’t want anyone missing out on our fics. With that being said we have made an application/Reapplication form. We are starting completely fresh so if you wish to still follow along with any of our works please consider going and applying (well for you guys it’d be reapplying really) which you can do below.

If you guys are new to our page and want to keep up with our works or just anything with our page please consider applying. We would LOVE to have you guys join the fangirlz family.

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pedropascalsx · 2 years ago

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Kinktober - Day Four: Overstimulation.

Marcus Pike x F! Reader.

Summary: You challenge Marcus… and Marcus doesn’t back down from a challenge.

Word Count: 750

A/N: I’m so sorry this is a day late. I was too tired to finish it last night. I’m a little unsure about this one… but i hope you like it 🫣

Prompt from @absurdthirst’s list 💖

Each swirl of his tongue is deliciously devastating, pleasure mixed with pain as your thighs shake harder than ever before, but he shows no signs of letting up.

One of his hands holds you open as he strokes his cock feverishly with the other, he’s lost count how many times you’ve screamed and cursed his name from the amount of orgasms he’s pulled from you tonight.

But he won’t stop, not until that word falls from your lips or he feels that you can’t take anymore.

Your clit still tingles from your last orgasm, and you can feel that telltale sign of another building in your core. With a whimper of his name he doubles down on his efforts, letting go of his cock and sliding two fingers inside of you with ease.

“Marcus,” you moan, and he feels a shiver rip through your body, and you swear you can hear his cocky grin. “Please.”

He begins pumping his fingers slowly, just teasing that spot inside of you, before ramping up the pace. Thrusting them in and out as you curse his name, your body writhing and thrashing around in the most delicious way as the coil inside of you snaps and you clamp down so hard around his fingers that it almost hurts.

“Good girl,” he coos, lips still brushing against your clit, before he pulls out his fingers and spreads your slick down his shaft.

Marcus Pike; gentleman in the streets… absolute freak in the sheets. You had bought this on yourself, when you challenged him, despite knowing one thing about Marcus Pike… he doesn’t back down from a challenge.

He gives himself a few more languid strokes, and you look at the ring firmly wrapped around his cock and balls prolonging your night of pleasure.

“I want to touch you,” you murmur, as you manage to push yourself up on your elbows and reach out and take him in your hand.

“You can,” he says with a smirk, before reaching across the bed and picking up your vibrating wand, “You can stroke my cock while I keep this pressed against that pretty little clit.”

He chuckles at your loud groan, before shrugging his shoulders, “Unless you’re admitting defeat, sweetheart?”

“Slowest setting,” you hiss back, despite the fact your clit is pulsating with overstimulation, and you’re not convinced that you can cum again.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge here.” Marcus reminds you with a waggle of his brows. You mumble a quiet ‘yes sir’, as you stroke him slowly, before he places the wand against your clit.

The hiss you make as it touches your swollen bundle of nerves makes him stop for a few seconds to study your face, and once he’s comfortable that you’re okay and ready to go again, he switches it on… on the highest setting.

“Fuck, Marcus,” you groan, as your fingers squeeze tightly around his length, making his hips stutter.

“You know the safeword,” he simply coos. His spare hand reaches down to caress your tit, rolling your nipple in between his fingers before lightly slapping it, just to see the shock on your face and hear you whimper his name.

His name gets caught in your throat though, as your hips try to chase and rock away from the wand all at once, your pleasure receptors needing more even as your brain tells them no.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marcus chants, as your hand slips from his cock and grips at the bed sheets beneath you, whimpering as another orgasm threatens to devastate and delight you.

He presses the wand just a little harder against your clit as your hips go into overdrive, rocking against the toy before you're completely awash with white hot pleasure and fireworks are exploding behind your pretty eyes.

“Marcus,” you plead, as he works you through your high, his sweet nothings filling your ears before he gently pulls it away and captures your lips with his.

His cock twitches against your stomach as he gently nibbles on your bottom lip, letting you catch your breath for a few seconds.

You watch as he slowly pushes himself up and looks down at your pussy, and his tongue comes out to wet his lips.

“It’s going to be a long night, sweetheart,” he smirks, before pressing a kiss to your knee, “and I’m only just getting started.”

You whine his name whimpering as his tongue starts lapping at your clit again.

You never should have challenged Marcus Pike.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #CKT23 #marcus pike x ofc #my fanfiction #my fanfic

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thetriumphantpanda · 2 years ago

Note

Breeding kink with Pike?

Anon said breeding kink with Marcus Pike and my brain went 'say less' - I love that man with every ounce of my being and this... well, it did something to me!

Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.4k

Warnings | Explicit. 18+, Minors DNI. Sweet, sweet Marcus Pike, some allusions to pain during sex but nothing to cause it here, obviously breeding kink, little bit of praise kink and maybe some daddy kink if you squint a little. Also un-beta'd so, all mistakes my own I guess.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration (now bleeding into my 2K celebration) - if you want to read previous requests, you can do that here .

He’s looking at you over his drink with those eyes that you love. Eyes that tell you he’d rather be anywhere else but here, with you, in this restaurant. His coffee brown eyes have gone dark, mainly from the way you’ve been wrapping your lips around the straw in your drink, sucking the fizzy vodka tonic into your mouth, looking into his eyes as you swallow, much like you would if you were alone right now.

“You going to keep teasing me like that all night?” He asks, raising his hand for the waiter to bring your bill.

“I’m not teasing.” You smirk, sucking the last of your drink into your mouth.

“The way my jeans are fitting right now would suggest otherwise.” He speaks lowly, finishing just in time for the check to be placed on your table.

“I’m not responsible for your inability to control yourself, Marcus,” You tease as he fishes his card out of his wallet to pay, “Can’t help that you love me so much you want to keep me perpetually naked.”

He chokes a little as the waiter comes by to take the payment, and then Marcus is all but dragging you by the wrist from the restaurant. You don’t miss how he stops just outside the door to adjust his jeans. His long strides down the sidewalk mean you have to almost jog to keep up with him as he walks the short distance back to your apartment. The one you’ve shared with him for almost a year now.

He doesn’t even bother turning the main lights on when you get in, just locks the door behind you, dragging you into your bedroom. He’s not even kissed you when he pushes gently on your shoulders to sit you on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees in front of you. It’s almost second nature to you now, the way you hike the hemline of your dress up your thighs and spread your legs for him.

You smile when a choked gasp leaves his mouth, eyes dropping to the red lace covering your sex. He hasn’t seen this in a while. His warm palms trace up the inside of your thighs, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“You get all dressed up for me?” He speaks lowly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out, baby?”

It was a calculated ploy by you, the wrap dress. Showing off your cleavage all evening, you’d caught his eyes dropping to the swell of your breasts more times than you can count, but it was also easy to take off, as Marcus was currently demonstrating – pulling at the belt at your side, watching as it reveals that you did indeed dress up for him, red lace cupping your breasts, just like the red lace between your legs.

“Fucking hell,” He breathes out, hands coming up to massage your tits as his lips finally meet your own, tongue meeting yours as he pulls the cups of lace down, you moan into his mouth when he thumbs over your nipples, rubbing them to stiff peaks, “Did I forget something special?” He asks.

You chuckle against his lips, his hands moving to shove the dress from your shoulders, sitting back on his heels to take in the sight of you. Legs spread, tits exposed, just waiting for his next move.

“You gonna eat me out, agent?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him, lifting your foot up his thigh to rest where he’s almost bulging out of his jeans.

“You think you deserve that after teasing me all night?” He growls, gripping your ankle to keep you still.

“You know you’ve got to work me up,” You smirk, eyes dropping to his groin again, “Don’t wanna hurt me, do you?”

He brings a hand to your neck, holding gently as he growls into your ear, “Don’t pretend you don’t like it when it hurts a little.”

He releases your neck, hands trailing down your body to the thin waistband of your panties. You lift your hips off the bed automatically, watching as he drags the scrap of lace down your legs and onto the floor. He moves you so that you’re lying flat on the bed now, his own body settled between your thighs as his fingers dip through your folds to your weeping hole.

“You don’t need any working up baby,” He groans, teeth nipping at your neck, “Fucking soaked just from teasing me.”

He eases two of his thick fingers into your cunt, curling them upwards almost immediately. Your big talk is suddenly nowhere to be found, not when his fingers move inside you like they do. He works you open with that expert precision he’s always had with you, got you writhing underneath him in no time. When he pulls his fingers from you, you whine, until your eyes train on him undressing himself.

He's back on you in seconds, kissing your open mouth, grinding his hip into yours so his thick cock drags through your folds, nudging at your clit every few seconds. He pulls back gently, reaching over into the bedside table for a condom, when your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him.

You look him directly in the eye, “Not tonight agent,” You breathe, “Put a baby in me.”

You’re pretty sure you see the way his brain malfunctions at your words. You’d spoken about this enough for it to not be a secret, you’d come off the pill months ago but had both agreed to wait a few more months before trying. Well, you were tired of waiting, you wanted Marcus to give you what you wanted.

“Baby,” He groans, “You sure?”

You reach down between the two of you, gripping his cock in your fist, pumping it a few times, “We’ve waited long enough,” You groan as you move your hips, lining his cock up to your aching cunt, “Fuck me, Marcus.”

He does just that, pushing his hips into yours to sink himself into your heat, dipping his head to kiss along your jaw as you shift your hips underneath him, urging him to move, to do anything. Marcus pulls back, sitting on his knees, with his hands on your hips as he starts fucking into you in earnest now. His eyes are trained on the way you’re spread out for him. His hands slip from your hips to rest on your tummy. With his cock still spearing into you at just the right angle to have you crying out of every thrust, his soft hands on your tummy almost make you want to cry.

“You’ll look so fucking beautiful baby,” He groans, looking down at you, “So fucking beautiful full of my baby.”

You reach down, fingers seeking out your own clit for relief as Marcus pounds into you with an intensity you’ve not seen before – like he knows now you’ve given him permission, he’s got hell of a fucking job to do.

“Wanna make you a daddy,” You squeal as he shifts his hips just a little to change the angle of his thrusts, “Come on baby, fill me up, please.”

“Make yourself come for me darling girl,” You can tell he’s close, his voice breathy and his hips starting to stutter, “And I’ll give you anything in the world.”

You add more pressure to the circles your drawing on your swollen clit, back arching off the bed as the tight coil finally snaps in you, crying our Marcus’ name as your pussy clenches around him.

“God damnit baby,” He groans, finally falling onto his palms, placing either side of your head as he chases his own high, “Clenching so well around me, such a good fucking girl for me.”

All you can do is continue with the moans of his name, gripping onto his sides as he pounds into you. He doesn’t last much longer, stilling inside you. You can feel that familiar warmth spread through you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls like you’d begged for, and God it feels good.

He pushes himself back from you, back onto his knees as he pulls out of you, watching as his cum drips from your spent pussy. He looks you directly in the eye as he uses his thumb to push what’s fallen from you back inside, lifting his fingers to your mouth so you can clean off what’s left behind.

Marcus finally collapses next to you, pulling your shoulders to bring you closer to him, your sweaty skin sticking to each other as his fingers draw patterns along your shoulders as you wrap your arm across his waist.

“Not bad for a first try,” He chuckles, kiss pressed to the top of your head, “Need to perfect it though, what do you think?”

“Practice makes perfect, after all.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike Imagine #The Mentalist #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal

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absurdthirst · 1 day ago

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Undercover Love {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: Heartbreak, danger, undercover work, lies, derogatory language, voyeurism, sleeping with the enemy, fear, graphic violence, murder, guns, arrests, needy sex, unprotected sex, cock riding

Comments: Going undercover to escape heartbreak from Marcus Pike proposing to Teresa sounds like a good idea. Until you realize you are in deep and then one day, the man you are trying to escape walks into your undercover op.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

When you got called into your superiors office, you never imagined you’d be asked to go undercover within a well known mafia. You glance back at the door, knowing that Marcus has gone for lunch with Teresa. His fiancé. The words make your heart clench and you are sold on your decision. You’re going undercover and you will try to forget about Marcus Pike…the man you’re in love with.

Marcus sighs as he comes back to the office. He is trying to stay optimistic, but Teresa doesn’t seem to be as eager as he had hoped she would be. Although she always plays her cards close to the vest, unless they are in bed. He taps on your door, frowning slightly when he doesn’t hear you call for him to come in. He says your name and Johnson tells him as he walks by. “She’s left.” He hums. “Got called into the boss's office. Wouldn’t say where she was going.” That’s odd, and concerning. Marcus is your partner, your friend. He pulls out his phone and dials your number.

You are deep into the brief, whisked away from the office to speak to your superiors about your mission and who you are going to meet, you have to forget about Marcus and focus on your job. It’s dangerous and you could be killed. He’s starting a new life in D.C with Teresa. You have to forget about him. When his name appears on your phone, you ignore it. It’s time for a new start.

****

“Sir, excuse me, May I talk to you for a moment?” It’s been two days since he’s seen you, heard from you and he’s starting to get worried. You’ve never not called him back. He says your name and doesn’t notice the way that the field manager’s face changes. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but she’s been out for two days and she’s not answering her phone.” He is worried, and hopes that it’s something simple. He knows your grandmother has been ill, hopefully she didn’t pass.

“Pike….” The tone is compassionate, understanding, making him look up from his phone. “She’s undercover.” His jaw drops in shock. “What? How could she-“ The other agent is in awe of Marcus sometimes. He’s an intuitive agent, smart, dedicated and focused. But he couldn’t see what was right in front of his nose. “She had to immediately leave, it’s a deep cover. No contact. And you’re leaving for D.C. in a week.” He pats his shoulder. “It’s better this way.” That makes him frown, but he nods. “Sure, um, thanks for letting me know.” He bites his lip as he turns away, feeling more upset than he probably should about not getting to see you one more time before he leaves. He has loved working with you.

****

You’re not sure how long you’ve been undercover. You don’t even remember the last time you heard your real name. You stare out the window to the city when his arms wrap around you. “Hey baby. You been a good girl?” He asks as his lips press against your neck and you suppress your shiver. “Try to be for you.” His chuckle puffs against your skin. “Want you to meet one of the new guys. Gonna be running a few routes. He squeezes your hip and you turn around, fully expecting to see a rough and ready gangster but you barely suppress your gasp as your eyes meet Marcus’s.

Marcus nearly blows his cover when he sees you. It’s not a look alike, it’s you. He knows that face. He knows the curve of your lips and how your eyes change color slightly when you are wearing different colors. You’re here. Obviously undercover and he quickly makes sure that the man he’s gone undercover to bust, seemingly your boyfriend, doesn’t notice that he’s bothered by your presence. “How’s it going?” He asks casually, jerking his head up in a greeting.

You fight hard to not react to seeing Marcus here of all places. The man you tried to escape from by going undercover is here and he looks just as shocked to see you even though he’s trying to conceal it. You see it in his eyes. “Hi.” You offer him a small smile and Tony pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “He is here to help with the new route. Got a shipment coming in next week.” He says and you hum, caressing his chest. “I’d better go check in with Sally.” You say and he nods, leaning in to kiss you. You cringe internally and he smacks your ass as you walk away from him. You use all your effort to not turn back to look at Marcus and you try to focus on the op.

“Prime piece of ass.” Tony chuckles, turning and watching you walk away. Marcus wants to grimace at the way he manhandles you, but he’s more shocked by how easily he touches you. How are you sleeping with this douchebag? “Your girl.” He grunts, shrugging a shoulder as if it doesn’t matter to him. “I don’t touch someone else’s girl.”

Tony smirks, walking over to smack Marcus on the shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear.” He appraises Marcus as a loyal soldier who will work his way up the ladder fast. “She’s a freak in bed. Can’t keep her hands off me. She lets me do whatever the fuck I want.” He boasts, crossing his arms.

He wants to throw up, or throw a punch. His stomach flips as he thinks about what he has imagined, before Teresa and after, when he realized that he has pushed you away in favor of someone who obviously never loved him. It seems vulgar when it’s voiced out loud, because he knows that Tony doesn’t respect you to talk about you like that. “Those are the best kind of women.” He chuckles. “Does she have a sister?”

Tony chuckles, “I fucking wish. I’d have them both at the same time. Imagine that? Both sucking your cock? Goddamn.” He shakes his head at the thought. “I can tell you’re gonna be a good addition to the team.” He decides as he lowers his arms, “just stay away from my shit.”

“Not a problem.” He nods, mind racing because no one let him know you were here undercover. Why? Were you in too deep, had you flipped? He didn’t think so, because you hadn’t ratted him out to Tony. “I’m gonna go make some calls.” He tells the boss. “Make sure our shipment is on time.”

You slump down onto the bed as you process the fact that Marcus is here. He’s undercover and you haven’t seen him for months. You rub your eyes, feeling yourself tear up as you realize you’ve tried to escape the man only to realize that he’s probably still with Teresa. He’s probably still in love with her. You tried to escape him and you can’t. He’s here.

Once Marcus gets away from Tony, he immediately heads back to the apartment he had set up for this operation. Needing to talk to someone about this development and get some clarification on exactly that the fuck going on. Reeling from the fact that you are here undercover and he’s even farther away from you than he has ever been.

Your supervisor sees the contact from Marcus and snorts, “that was fast.” He picks up the phone and sighs, “Samson speaking. What’s up Pike?” He asks, knowing they are on a secure line right now. Marcus isn’t in too deep yet. Not like you.

“You gotta tell me what the fuck is going on.” He paces the small apartment as he talks, almost wishing that he smoked or something. His nerves are jittery and he feels guilty for some reason. He says your name. “Is- am I supposed to be her contact? Why did you send me in if she’s already here?”

Samson knew he’d be getting this call and he sighs, rubbing his cheek, “she’s in deep. We haven’t been able to get in touch with her without them getting suspicious and we wanted to know if she was okay. She needs someone else to help her close this down and get out alive. We didn’t brief you on her being there because we knew you would refuse the op. You need to work together to get this shut down. We can’t afford to put more resources into this.”

Marcus frowns, wondering why they would believe he would turn down the op. He loved working with you and was more than a little hurt that you left without saying goodbye. “Get her out alive.” He agrees, hoping that it’s just as easy as it sounds. “When was the last time she reported in?”

“Two weeks ago. She was supposed to report every few days. We wanted to know she hadn’t gotten in trouble…or worse…fallen in love with that asshole Tony. She knew what she’d have to do to get in with him but we hoped she didn’t fall for his bullshit. Do you think she’s gotten too deep?” He asks Marcus, knowing the last time he spoke to you you’d told your superior about how much you hated Tony but you are working hard to take them down from the inside.

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would never voice that kind of thing to your handler, knowing how detrimental it could be to your career. “She didn’t give me up and she was just as shocked as I was.” He sighs softly. “She’s doing what she has to do in order to get these assholes.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.” Samson nods, knowing you are a dedicated agent. “Keep an eye on her and when you get a chance, talk to her and tell her to get in touch.” He orders and Marcus says “yes sir.”

****

You are reeling from Marcus’s appearance and you pray you don’t see him often as you try to gather enough evidence against the Romano mafia to take them down without getting yourself killed. Fucking Tony was an inevitable but you loathe it. You would never admit it but you imagine Marcus when he’s inside you, closing your eyes and trying to imagine the man you love is fucking you. Tony expects you in his club later so you start to get ready, knowing he won’t allow you to leave the apartment without looking “like a fucking million dollar prostitute.” His words not yours. You’ll be expected to sit on his lap at the club but that’s good, you can observe at the club, find out the comings and goings of the shipments without seeming obvious.

“Hey boss.” Marcus answers the phone easily when Tony’s name flashes up. “Get ready.” Tony demands. “We are going out to the club tonight. Be a good time for you to meet the rest of the guys.” He chuckles. “And for me to see how you hold your liquor.” Marcus chuckles, although he’s not looking forward to drinking with this scumbag. He will have to make sure that it appears like he’s getting drunk, without imbibing too much. “Sounds good.” He agrees, listening to Tony rattle off the location of the club like Marcus doesn’t know it. He has a full file on all of Tony’s hangouts and it’s still annoying that they didn’t include information on you in that packet. “Be there at nine.” His boss demands before he hangs up without saying goodbye. Marcus sighs and wonders if you will be there tonight.

The club is busy when you and Tony arrive. Nearly stumbling on your heels when he drags you along to the VIP section. Some of his men are already there and you sigh in relief when you don’t see Marcus there. Tony sits down on the sofa, grabbing your waist to drag you into his lap and you giggle despite your skin crawling, his hand finding your bare thigh as your dress rises up. Tony orders your drink and you lean back against him just as you see Marcus speaking to the bodyguard who oversees the VIP section. He looks good in his jeans and leather jacket, his stubbled cheeks making him look rougher than the sweet and mild man you worked with.

Marcus wants to look at you. Your dress is nearly up to your waist, showing off legs for miles and you look sexy. But he can’t seem too interested, especially with Tony’s warning. Instead he glances around the club, clocking guards and security positioned around the VIP area. The mob boss keeps himself protected, so you being so close is actually a good thing. He hates it when he sees the bastard’s hand move up between your thighs and he hopes that giggle is just an Oscar worthy performance. “Busy night in here.” He comments, reaching out to shake Tony’s hand so he has to let you go.

Tony shakes his hand and you wrap your arm around the mob boss’s neck, making it look like you’re leaning in towards him. “Glad you could join us, Frankie.” He uses the name Marcus was given to go undercover. “Get yourself a drink. We got some top notch whiskey over there.” He gestures to the bar where a nearly naked woman is making the drinks for the men who work for Tony. Marcus nods, “thanks. I’ll definitely get a drink.” Tony smiles, his hand squeezing your thigh and he leans in to kiss your neck, making you giggle. You’re not sure how much time passes but soon Tony is talking to one of his men about a delivery happening in the early hours. From Russia. It makes your ears prick up but you pretend to play with Tony’s buttons, making him playfully squeeze your ass. “Baby, I gotta go powder my nose.” You announce and Tony snorts, “sure thing doll. Why don’t you have the new guy escort you?” He suggests and he snaps his fingers at Marcus who comes over, “yes boss?” He asks and Tony helps you stand, his hand smacking your ass. “My lady needs the bathroom. Escort her and make sure none of those assholes out there touch her. If I hear of anyone - anyone-” His eyes narrow at Marcus, “touching my girl, I’ll fucking kill them…and you. Understood?” He asks and Marcus nods, keeping his hands to himself and letting you guide the way to the bathrooms. The club is busy and you are glad to have this moment with Marcus to explain which is why you drag him into the women’s bathroom and lock the door. There’s no cameras in this area…Tony likes to do his exchanges here so no cameras means no evidence. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask Marcus when the door is locked.

“I was sent in to help you.” Marcus immediately cups your cheeks, as if touching you will help. He needs to make sure you are alright. “You didn’t- you just disappeared on me.” He huffs, knowing that he doesn’t have much time. “When you stopped checking in, they needed to make sure you weren’t in too deep. They called me in from Washington.”

You bat his hands away from your cheeks, confused by the touch and the concern in his eyes. “Why - I couldn’t check in. Tony basically has me with him all hours of the day or I’m guarded. It’s been impossible to make contact. Fuck, why did they send you? It’s dangerous, Marcus. They are dangerous. They are going to make you do things you don’t want to do.” You warn him, reaching for his hands, “why did Teresa let you do this?”

He’s not upset that you push him away, now when you take his hands almost immediately and he can feel how upset you are by the idea that he’s in danger. He smiles ruefully. “That’s not an issue.” He promises and you frown. “Why?” He didn’t really want to get into it, but he owes you an explanation. “She never came to D.C.” he tells you. “She stayed with Jane.”

Your eyes widen, “she - she left you for Jane?” You scoff, “is she fucking crazy?” You ask and Marcus just shrugs one shoulder. You can see he’s hurt and you squeeze his hands. “Fuck her. She’s an idiot. What are you doing here? It’s not safe. I- I am trying to get what we need but it’s taken time.”

“To help get you out in one piece.” Marcus doesn’t tell you that they’ve not told him about you until now, but that didn’t matter. “I can check in. I’ll have more freedom to pass intel.” He knows the two of you have been in here too long and it will be suspicious if you don’t go back out. “Powder your nose.” He tells you before he unlocks the door and slips outside.

You sigh, turning back to the mirror to reapply your lip gloss and you check your appearance, giving Marcus some time to return back to the VIP area before you make your way back to Tony. Your boyfriend smirks and reaches for you, “got your drink ready baby.” He gestures to the cocktail and you settle back on his lap, leaning in to softly kiss you.

Marcus looks away, feigning disinterest but his stomach churns as he looks out over the club. People are dancing and there’s plenty of beautiful people around, but he doesn’t care about that. You are too good for that scumbag to touch and it makes him sick that you’ve had to act like you like it. “Thank you, baby.” You coo, making Marcus realize he’s never heard that sweet, affectionate tone before. He’s never seen you with a boyfriend. “You are too good to me.”

Tony smacks your thigh playfully and you pray you can’t get him drunk enough that he passes out. You’ve fed him booze before so he falls asleep and you sleep naked, waking him up so he thinks you had sex. He’s fallen for it many times but sometimes he wants to go again so you’ve had to handle him fucking you in the morning. He leans in to kiss your neck as one of his men comes over to speak to him. You hum to the music, listening to the man, and you tilt your head, glancing around at Marcus.

He’s talking to one of the other men. The one that sets up the buyers. Trying to get some information from him in the hopes that this case will quickly be put to bed and you can get out of this situation.

You listen as Tony speaks to each man who approaches him. You pretend to bop to the music and caress Tony’s chest as you settle in his lap. This is the best way to learn information. No one pays attention to the lap candy. You’re just an accessory. You see Marcus mingling with the guys who run the goods and you are worried about him. He’s a good agent but he has no idea how intense this cover can be. Tony is violent and quick to kill. You’ve seen it with your own two eyes and you don’t want to see anything happen to Marcus. “Come on baby, let’s dance.” Tony says, dragging you out of your thoughts and you nod, standing up and holding your hand out towards him. He takes it and escorts you out of the VIP area. Everyone here knows he owns the club so they part and allow him to guide you into the middle of the dance floor, his hands gripping your waist to drag you back into his chest.

Marcus watches you for a moment. “Don’t look too interested.” Another Tony, his nickname Little Tony, grimaces. “Boss doesn’t like that. Even if he talks about her so you do want to look.” Marcus pulls his eyes away. “Don’t want to piss him off. He knows he’s in charge.” He agrees.

Tony is handsy and you spin in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer. His hands slide down your back to squeeze your ass, his cock hardening against your hip, and you internally groan, not looking forward to him being horny tonight. You’ve been lucky that he has been too drunk to fuck you the past few nights. You glance over his shoulder to see Marcus standing there and you know this will be dangerous.

Marcus sips on the club soda he had gotten from the bar. While he knows that it might be back to Tony that he’s not drinking, he wants to stay as sober as possible, not willing to put you at risk. “Heeeeeey sweetheart.” A hand curls around his arm and he looks down to see a very perky blonde hanging off of him and batting her heavily mascaraed eyes up at him coyly. “You look lonely and you’re too cute to be lonely.”

Marcus looks sexy in his leather jacket and styled hair, making your heart flutter but you know he’s off limits but apparently not to the blonde who is now hanging off him. Your heart clenches and twists but you remind yourself of the hard truth. He doesn’t want you. He never did. He wanted Teresa and right now, he’s going to want to focus on the mission and apparently the cute blonde. Tony smirks and squeezes your ass to bring your attention back to him, grinding against you, and eventually he takes your hand to guide you back to the VIP area. “Baby girl, I got some business to take care of. Go entertain yourself.” He orders when his men approach and you pout, bending down to kiss him and he smacks your tit through your dress before you sway away from him, heading towards the bar where Marcus is standing with the blonde who is clinging to him. You ignore her and wave the bartender over but she is practically dry humping Marcus. “You got a problem?” She scoffs in your direction and you snort, “not at all, honey. Just watching you act like a desperate chihuahua.”

Marcus chuckles as the girl on his arm bristles, obviously spoiling for a fight. “That’s not nice, sweetheart.” He chides you playfully. “This is the boss's girl.” He tells the poor woman before she gets into some shit she can’t get out of. “Might not want to start that fight. Besides, I’m not the man for you.”

“That’s right, babe. You mess with me and Tony will make sure everyone you know suffers.” You warn her and she gulps, clearly having family that works for your boyfriend. You smirk when she backs down, lowering her hand from his arm and she offers you a narrowed glare when she pushes past you. “That was harsh.” Marcus murmurs when you lean against the bar and he turns towards you. “She deserved it. Sniffing around like a horny dog. Women can be worse than men.” You confess and Marcus chuckles, “didn’t know you were so protective.” You lean closer, “this world is dangerous. It’s dog eat dog and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m a grown ass man.” Marcus snorts. “You think I can’t handle this? That I’m too soft?” One of the things that his ex wife had said was that he was too sweet. Now that Teresa had walked all over him, the idea that you think that too grates on his nerves. Tony glances over at the two of you and Marcus frowns. “You don’t fuckin’ know me.” He sneers, turning to walk away.

You watch him stride off and your stomach clenches at his tone. You’re worried that he will get found out while trying to protect you. Tony soon appears behind you, his hands on your hips as he leans in to ask what that was about. “Oh nothing. One of the girls questioned me and he told her to fuck off. I told him I didn’t need protection and he stalked off. I’m fine, baby.” You promise him and Tony chuckles, biting down on your shoulder, “my possessive baby. I fucking love it.” You giggle and spin, pressing your lips to his and you wonder where Marcus went. Hopefully you’ll see him soon.

Marcus works his way around the club, buddying up to some of Tony’s men. Making it seem like he’s trying to feel them out when he is probing for information. They open up to him, a few of them at least, others brush him off. Not wanting to let anyone closer to the boss than they are.

****

“Tony!” You moan, your voice breaking as he fucks you while you lay on the edge of his pool. You squeal, but in reality you are bored out of your mind. You hate the man and you have faked every single orgasm you’ve ever had with him. This is part of the job. The way to get him to relinquish information so you can eventually take him down. It’s mid morning, anyone could see you out here but Tony doesn’t care as he fucks you after you decided to have your morning swim. Little do you know that Marcus has arrived and Tony’s men are watching you on the cameras.

“Hey man, is the boss around?” Marcus asks. “Gotta talk to him about this next shipment.” He glances around, curious to see you here. He feels guilty about that night in the club, knowing that you might have taken it personally. He doesn’t want that. He overreacted and you don’t deserve that. Not when you are already stressed from being undercover. Little Tony snickers. “Yeah, he’s around. Wanna see him?” He waves him on and walks towards an open door, the room filled with TVs and shows security cameras of every single inch of the property. The one in the middle with the biggest screen is a feed of the pool. His eyes widen when he sees you splayed out, legs up as Tony pistons in and out of your pussy. “Fuck.”

You moan, pretending to be enjoying this when you want to stab the man above you and end this bullshit undercover op but you can’t. You have to play the long game. Sacrificing your body to get the truth you need to take him down, you watch Tony grunt above you. Your ass is sore from the hard tile beneath you and you clench around him, needing him to finish. “That’s it, baby. Fuck. Cum for me. Cum for daddy.” He demands and you nearly gag. “Oh fuck daddy!” You cry, squeezing his cock to pretend you’re cumming, slumping onto the tile and your chest heaves.

Marcus swallows harshly, wanting to turn away, but Little Tony slaps his arm, looking at him. “Fuck, don’t you wish you were him?” He grunts. “Look at those tits shake. He said she’s tighter than a fucking glove, and the boss talks a big game, but my dick is bigger.” He hates how you are being displayed, watched, talked about, but he just nods. Unable to take his eyes off of you and feeling disgusting for the way his cock actually twitches as he imagines himself in Tony’s place. “Lucky bastard.” He manages, being honest for once.

You watch Tony move above you and finally he pushes deep to fill you up. You moan his name and he grunts, painting your walls and you are grateful you have your IUD and you’ve gone to get checked. You caress his arms, squashing down the urge to push him away and you pant, resting your head on the tiled floor as he works himself through it.

“Fuck I love when Tony gets tired of his girls.” The other Tony hums. “We get to play for awhile before we get rid of them.”

“Getting rid of them?” Marcus frowns and the men chuckle. Little Tony nods and says “yeah. We get to fuck then to death. Kill them so they don’t yap about what’s going on around here. Tony doesn’t like unresolved messes. Some of the girls get a little heartbroken, start talking to the police. Shit gets messy. He likes things kept clean.”

He’s got to get you out of here. He didn’t know that women were going missing, it wasn’t in any of the reports and files. “That makes it easy.” He grunts. “Although I’m sure that you’d want her to last for a little while longer.” He hums. “Enjoy her.”

Little Tony nods, “I’d take my fucking time with her don’t worry. Can’t do shit right now because the boss would chop my dick off but when he’s done? Shit, she’s gonna be fucking split in half.” He chuckles and Marcus chuckles but his eyes are dark in anger.

****

You scrub your skin, desperate to wash his touch from your body, and you wrap your robe around you when you are dry, making your way out into the bedroom. You gasp when you see Marcus standing there. “What are you doing here?”

Marcus frowns, trying to forget the way your body had looked on the security camera. “We need to talk.” He tells you quickly, aware that there are too many cameras around to spend much time around you. “I’m looking for Tony.” He tells you, looking around.

You shake your head, “he’s left. Gone to the warehouse to oversee the latest shipment.” You reveal knowing that’s too much information but you want him to pass that on to the handler. “Is there anything I can help you with?” You tilt your head to show him there’s no cameras in this room. Tony would never allow that.

Marcus relaxes slightly and reaches for your arm to pull you closer. Even if there are no cameras, he can’t risk someone overhearing him. “You have to get out of here.” He hisses quietly. “Tony kills the women when he gets bored with them. After letting his men have them.”

You swallow harshly, seeing the terror in his eyes, and you nod. “I know about that. That’s why - it’s why I’ve had to do what I’ve had to do with Tony. To buy time. I need to be a freak in bed to keep him interested.” You confess shamefully, “I am buying time to take him down. I need that one big break.”

“Fuck.” Marcus swallows harshly and shakes his head. “We need to take him down, now.” He insists, not wanting you in any danger. “You shouldn’t have taken this assignment, sweetheart.”

You nod, knowing he’s right and you sigh, shaking your head, “I’ve tried so hard to get this closed but Tony is ruthless and he seems to change his plan every time I manage to get the information across. I need you to help me but it’s going to be dangerous. You need to be careful and don’t trust anyone.”

“I don’t trust anyone here but you.” Marcus promises, reaching out and taking your hand to squeeze it. “We’re going to take him down and get you out of this. I promise you.” He sighs. “I want you to be careful too. Don’t make him suspicious. Act like you hate me or I annoy you.”

You look down at your hand in his, your heart thumping in your chest as you think about how dangerous this is and you hope nothing happens to him. “We will take him down. There’s a shipment happening tonight. Find out about it. Pass the information on.” You order quietly, “and you need to go. Before anyone finds us.”

He nods, looking into your eyes. “You are so fucking brave.” He murmurs softly, wishing he didn’t have to leave you here. “Let me know if you need me.”

You offer him a smile, your heart clenching at his soft eyes and you pray he is safe as he dives deep into this underworld you’ve been immersed in.

Later, you are sitting down with Tony, running your fingers along his arm while he examines the new routes available from his scouts. Marcus is standing across the room, not yet privy to this delicate information but you will inform him when you can.

You lean in to kiss Tony’s neck, your stomach twisting with disgust but you hum when he squeezes your thigh in his hand. You smirk, “once this business is taken care of, we can sit in the hot tub. Enjoy that new whiskey you bought.” You murmur and he chuckles, sliding his hand higher, “let’s get this shit settled.” He points at Marcus, “get your guy ready and let’s get this done so I can come back to some pussy.”

Marcus nods. “Right away.” He agrees, stepping out to make a call to the field agent that is covering him on the outside. They will set up a sting operation, but this one will actually be the evidence they need to send this asshole away. They need to show him selling the stolen goods, not just receiving them.

You watch Marcus step out and you hope the drop goes off without a hitch with the field agent. You need to get out of here before Tony realizes who you really are or before he grows bored of you. Either way, you’re dead. Tony turns his head to kiss you, “gotta go take care of business but you know I’ll be back and you’d better be naked and waiting in the hot tub for me.” He smirks and you giggle, watching Marcus come back into the room moments later.

“Tony, we’re ready.” He nods at the other man, his eyes flickering over to you briefly. “Why don’t we go out after the drop?” He suggests, wanting to keep you from having to put up with Tony’s touch. Or at least delay it some. “Celebrate?”

Tony hums, unsure until he sees the eager faces of his men so he nods, “let’s go to the club. Dress up, baby. Dress to impress.” He orders and you almost snort like you don’t wear what he wants you to wear. “Let’s go out.” You agree, caressing his arm.

Marcus flashes a pleased grin. “Good, now maybe we can get lucky too.” All the other men chuckle and Little Tony slaps him on the back. Soon enough, the men are filing out of the room to leave you alone. Marcus never looked back at you before he left.

****

The music is loud as you glance around the club. The VIP section is full of Tony’s friends and men and you watch your “boyfriend” as he jokes with his men. Marcus is leaning against the bar and your eyes meet his for a moment as you sip your drink. You’ve been left alone on the sofa and you sigh, knowing that once this mission is over, you will need to handle your feelings for Marcus once and for all. You sip your drink again and Tony notices, striding over, “don’t get drunk.” He warns you and you scoff, feeling a little rebellious. You’ve had this asshole ruling your life for far too long and you want him taken down. “I’ll do what I want.” You retort, feeling emboldened and spiteful.

Tony frowns, not liking the way you are talking back. “Don’t piss me off, baby.” He growls. “You won’t like the consequences.” He warns, reaching down and snatching your drink away from you and slamming it down on the table. Marcus sees the confrontation and he quickly pushes away from the bar with the drink he’s not even taken a sip of. “Here boss.” He slaps Tony on the back, interrupting him before he can say anything else to you. “Bought you a drink.”

Tony turns back to Marcus, eyebrows raised as he takes the drink from his hand. “Thanks man.” He says and turns to look back at you, “you need to go home.” Tony demands and you scoff, “send me home. I don’t care.”

Tony raises his hand, and for a second, Marcus thinks he’s going to backhand you. Tensing slightly because he knows he can’t just watch him hit you. Except, the man thinks better of it and chuckles as he brings his hand down. “You must be on the rag.” He snorts, turning towards Marcus. “Take her the fuck home.” He orders. “Make sure she’s not fucking around.”

You want to slap Tony, almost wish you had your gun, but you huff and glare at him, “I just wanted a drink baby.” Tony shakes his head, “I don’t wanna hear it. Just go home. Take her home.” He orders Marcus, knowing the new guy won’t want to be on his bad side and risk his ass so he trusts Marcus to get you back safe and sound. “I’ll see you later.” Tony raises his eyebrows and you nod, standing to walk with Marcus out of the club.

Marcus huffs slightly as he waits for you to gather your purse and your coat. Making it seem like he’s impatient as he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from helping you into the jacket. He would if he wasn’t undercover. “That sucks man.” Little Tony snorts and Marcus grunts in agreement, “there goes my chances to get some pussy thought.” Marcus tells him, clapping him on the back. “So get your wick dipped for me too.”

You scoff, “you’re both disgusting.” Little Tony chuckles and winks at Marcus, “she’s just jealous.” You smirk, leaning closer, “you better not let Tony hear you talking like that otherwise you don’t have dick to get wet.” You warn and Little Tony nods, gulping a little. You chuckle and adjust your coat, glancing back at Marcus, “well come on then. The naughty girl has to go home.” You click your tongue and stride ahead, ignoring the glances from the club goers as you leave without Tony by your side.

Marcus doesn’t touch you, knowing that there are plenty of eyes on you as you exit the building. Walking towards his car beside you and reaching for his keys. “In you go.” He huffs, snorting to himself when you roll your eyes and shoot him a glare. Playing up your roles perfectly.

You huff as you slide into the passenger seat after he opens the door and he slams it hard before he makes his way around to the driver’s side. When he’s inside and pulling out of the parking lot, you turn to look at him. “Thank you. You bought me some time tonight.” You sigh in relief, tilting your head back against the headrest.

“I thought I was going to blow my cover.” He admits quietly. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand by if he hit you.” He guides the car towards Tony’s house. “The exchange went well, we are close.” He tells you, giving you all the details from the drop. “Now we just need to catch him moving the goods so he can’t claim he didn’t know they were stolen.”

You can’t wait for this to be over. “Let’s get the bastard. He’s, uh, not really physically violent but he’s verbal…some of the things he’s called me.” You confess and you notice how Marcus grips the steering wheel a little harder. “It’s okay, Marc. It’s all part of the op. I knew who he was when I took the mission. I just never expected it would take so long. I can’t wait for it to be over.” You confess softly, looking out the window.

“Why did you take it?” That question has been haunting him. You used to talk to him about everything, right down to what to have for dinner that night. “You didn’t say anything about it and then just….disappeared.” His tone is hurt, because that’s how he feels.

His question makes your throat tighten and you look down at your hands, “I, um, I took it to escape. I didn’t want - it doesn’t really matter now.” You say but he tuts, not accepting that answer, “of course it matters.” You sigh and tangle your fingers together, “I took it to get away from the office…from you. I couldn’t - it was too much to watch you be with Teresa.”

“Teresa?” That surprises him and he frowns as he twists around to look at you at the next red light. “What did Teresa have to do with anything? We were friends, partners.” He huffs.

You sigh, knowing that this mission is dangerous and the best way to navigate getting out alive is to be honest. You’ve had a lot of time to think about Marcus since you’ve been away from him. “It’s hard to watch your partner…your friend, be with another woman when you’re in love with him.” You confess softly, bracing yourself for rejection.

His mouth drops open in shock, surprised by that. He had never known, had an inkling that you had any feelings for him beyond friendship. “What?” He manages. “You- why, why didn’t you tell me?” He asks finally, jumping slightly when the car behind him honks the horn after the light turns green. He has to look away from you, but he’s desperate for you to answer him.

You swallow harshly, your throat clenching, “I- I was scared and I didn’t think you wanted me. I didn’t know - we are partners. Friends. You have always been dating and I haven’t. I figured you don’t feel the same way so I kept quiet. It breaks my heart but I can’t - I had to get away from you when you were marrying her.” You confess softly, “I had to go before my heart broke.”

“Fuck.” Marcus reaches over and takes your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “Of course I was attracted to you. Halfway in love with you from the first week. But I didn’t-“ he shakes his head. “We were partners, I was afraid of fucking that up, so I - it’s why I asked Teresa out.” He admits. “I liked her, but I knew that if I didn’t start focusing my attention somewhere, my feelings for you would get me into trouble.”

You blink to stop yourself from crying. You’ve had to put your body on the line to save your heart when really it would’ve been safe with Marcus. “I love you.” You murmur, “I still do. I was scared. Scared to get hurt by you because you - you’re so amazing and you deserve the world. You deserved better than Teresa.”

“When you left, I was so hurt.” He admits quickly, his voice low. “You were the first person I wanted to call, about anything.” He sighs softly. “I should have known that it wouldn’t have worked out then, but I’m stubborn. And an idiot.” He snorts, squeezing your hand gently. “I love you too.”

“You must be so ashamed of me. Giving my body to a criminal like I have.” You close your eyes as he drives you back to Tony’s. “I need to get out of here. I need to take him down.” You choke, opening your eyes and you look down at your joined hands.

“Ashamed of you?” Marcus frowns and shakes his head. “Never.” He promises, his voice slightly stern. “I would never be ashamed of you for giving everything you are to take this bastard down. You are so brave and I’m in awe of you.”

You shake your head, “the things I’ve had to do. I need - I want to replace his touch.” You confess, “I hate him. I feel sick when he’s inside me but I am fighting to take him down.”

“I saw.” Marcus admits quietly, shame lacing his words. “That first day I came to the house, the guys were watching on the security cameras. Then they were talking about when they got to have you.” He hisses. “They aren’t going to fucking touch you, I promise.”

Your eyes close in shame and you hate that Marcus saw you like that. “I’m not stupid. I've heard the comments. I know what they want. That’s why I’m trying to take Tony down as fast as possible. That’s why I didn’t check in. I couldn’t risk it.”

“I know.” He lifts your hand and kisses the back of it gently. “We will take this bastard down and get you out of here.” He bites his lip. “Then we can see what happens between us?” He asks hopefully, knowing you might need some time to process being undercover.

You nod and smile, knowing you definitely want to see where this goes with Marcus but you’ll need time to process being with Tony and immersed in this world. You squeeze his hand and let him continue driving you back to the house that’s become your home for the past three months.

He sighs as he pulls up to the large house. “I’m going to call in tonight,” he promises you, “see when we can get a ‘buyer’ set up through one of the other guys to keep it from looking too suspicious. I want you out of there.” He stops at the gate. “I wish I was taking you somewhere, anywhere, else.”

You sigh, “me too. Sometimes I lie in his bed and wonder if it would be easier to just stab him in his sleep. Sneak a knife in from dinner and end it all but that doesn’t end the business. We need to stop the shipments and the only way to do that is to discover his contacts. It takes time.” You murmur and watch as the gate opens.

“We are close to the end.” Marcus promises softly. Although he’s concerned about how deep you are, how quick Tony could tire of you. He’s not going to sit back and let you get killed for this. He pulls through the gate. “At least you will have the house to yourself.”

You sigh as he pulls up, turning to look at him, and you don’t want him to go just yet. “I know where the cameras have blank spots. You can come inside if you want. Tony won’t be back for hours. He will probably be drunk and high off his own supply. Can you - can you come inside? I don’t want to be alone just yet.” You murmur, looking down at your joined hands.

It’s dangerous and he knows that. But he also knows that it’s dangerous for you to feel like you are alone. “Yeah.” He agrees, looking around. “I can ‘leave’ and park down the road so it looks like I left.” He murmurs. “Where can I get back in?”

“There’s a back door in the alley. That’s where the goods are brought in and out the house. Tony doesn’t like that to be recorded on camera. You can go through the garden which only has cameras on the perimeter and come to the back door. I’ll open it for you.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t hesitate even though you are both playing with fire. He tells himself that it will be a chance to search for things that would incriminate Tony even more, although he knows that he’s not thinking about that. He’s thinking more about making sure you are okay, knowing the toll of playing someone else for so long is taking on you. He’s been undercover for months to get to this point and you’ve been under longer than he has. “Give me five minutes.” He murmurs.

You nod, “be careful. Tony has guards patrolling but they usually are fucking around instead of walking around.” You tell him and he nods, putting the car in park so he can get out and open your door. You take his hand to get out and you squeeze it, “I’ll see you in five minutes.” He nods and you watch him drive off, your heart pounding as you walk inside the house and wait for him to return.

Marcus makes sure that he is off the cameras before he parks, tucking his car between a couple of others in a parking lot and quickly locking the door before jogging around towards the back of the property. He makes it seem like he’s lost, but looking for something in case he runs into one of the guards, but luckily no one is around. Jumping over the fence and to the back door quietly to wait for you to open it.

You are glad the house is quiet. Most of the men are at the club or occupied so you quietly open the back door and Marcus walks in, glancing around. “It’s clear.” You promise and take his hand, escorting him through the house to an area you know will be safe in case anyone comes back. “We are good here.” You promise, shutting the door to the small living room.

“What is this place?” Marcus asks, looking around at the surprisingly cozy room. “This is where Tony goes when he’s talking business.” She explains. “That’s why there are no cameras.”

Marcus nods and you guide him over to the sofa, squeezing his hand once you’re sat down. You shuffle a little closer to him, looking down at your joined hands, “so we need to talk about what happens next. I need you to forget that you love me. You can’t react when the guys say shit or when Tony is a little rough with me. Or he touches me. I’ve worked hard to make sure Tony trusts me and I don’t want you to get into trouble. Tony is possessive so if you start looking pissed, he’s going to cotton on.”

“I know.” Marcus nods. “I won’t put you in any more danger, baby. I promise you that. You and I don’t know each other until this is done.” He reaches out and caresses your cheek. “But you remember that I’m here. That I love you, that I’m proud of you.”

You smile, tilting your head into his touch, and you murmur his name. He leans closer to nudge his nose against yours, giving you a moment to pull back but you close the gap. Your lips meet his and it’s like electricity sparks through you as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss.

It’s stupidly dangerous to do this, but he can’t help himself. The taste of your lips is instantly addictive and he needs to feel you just a little. To show you that he was honest about not being ashamed of you. His hands wind around you and pull you close, groaning into your mouth when your tongue touches his.

You cling to him, loving how he tastes and how he feels. You moan into his mouth, sliding your tongue against his, and your heart is pounding. You know it’s unlikely that anyone could walk in but the possibility has your pulse racing.

Marcus closes his eyes, holding you as tight as he can without suffocating you. Feeling his cock starting to harden as you press yourself against him. Huffing in embarrassment as he pulls away so you don’t feel it. “I’m- I’m sorry, baby.” He pants softly.

You shake your head, caressing his chest, “I want you, Marcus. I’d ride you right here right now but I love you too much to do that. Tony - we don’t use condoms and I need to get tested. I respect you too much to risk you. Soon. I promise. Soon.” You vow, pecking his lips.

“I don’t want you to think I’m like those other animals.” He grunts, kissing you back. “I don’t just want you because you are sexy. I want everything with you. Your joy and pain, your fears, and happiness. I want to build a life with you after all this.”

You grin, cupping his cheek, “I want that too. I want to see what we can be. I want everything with you. A whole life.” You promise and he grins, nudging his nose against yours. “You need to go. Before he comes back. I don’t want them to find you here.” You say, shifting to stand from the sofa.

He doesn’t want to leave you here, but he has to. Getting up, he pulls you close again and presses his lips to your gently. “I’ll be by tomorrow morning.” He murmurs. “I’ll check in and hope they have good news for us.”

You nod, silently hoping that your team will come in and handle Tony sooner rather than later. Marcus winks at you and you guide him through the house until he’s at the back door. “I love you. Stay safe.” You demand and he nods, dragging you close to kiss you until you’re breathless. Your heart flutters when he winks at you again and disappears. He loves you. Marcus loves you and you need to get out of here so you can see what you can become.

****

It’s been weeks since that night and the case is starting to stall. Tony seems hesitant to move the product and Marcus feels like he’s beating his head against the wall. He’s been aloof, spending more time in the club and there’s a sincere fear that he’s starting to get bored with you. He sips his drink as he watches you curl around Tony and cuts his eyes away so he doesn’t give anything away.

You see the way Tony looks at the woman hovering near the VIP area. Her dance moves clearly meant to entice him and it’s working. His grip on your thigh loosens and his eyes trail along her form. Your days are numbered. He’s losing interest and you know what that means. You’ll be given to his men. You still have a few days but you need to act fast. Your eyes find Marcus hovering near the bar and you can see how tense he is. He knows too. Time is running out and you need to do something before you both end up dead.

Marcus turns towards Little Tony. “How’s your contact feeling?” He asks casually. “I’m ready to make some money off this deal already. We’ve been holding onto everything for too long.”

Little Tony taps his fingers against the bar, “I reckon we can get the contact to move in a few days. I’ll get a time and place to meet up. I wanna get rid of this shit and Tony is getting distracted by new toys. Good fucking news for us. Looks like baby doll over there will be our next hand me down. We can strap her down, take our fucking time with her.” He waggles his eyebrows, “I’ve seen you watching her. You wanna get your dick wet in that pussy. I can tell.”

Marcus knows he can’t deny it, but he shrugs. “She’s a prime piece of ass.” He grins, even though he hates talking about you like this, he has to sell it. “If the boss is tired of her, I want to see if she’ll squeal for me like she does him.” He takes a sip of his drink as Little Tony chuckles.

“Don’t worry man. She will be ours soon.” He promises and Marcus smirks, letting his gaze drift back over to you and you are sipping your drink. You need to get away from Tony and soon.

****

“Baby, I’m going to have my nails done.” You tell Tony and he nods, not even looking up from his phone. “Get red.” He demands and you smile, “of course, baby. Wanna see my new nails while I jerk you off later?” You coo, leaning against his desk and he grunts, typing away from his phone. You sigh and push away, leaving him in peace and you know your time is limited. Tony doesn’t care about you right now so you manage to drive yourself to the clinic. You want to get tested - you’ve gotten tested regularly during this op to make sure that asshole hasn’t given you something. You greet the receptionist and soon you’re on the way to the nail salon, awaiting the results of your tests. You pay to have them expedited to give you peace of mind. You check your phone and the message from Marcus comes through on the burner phone you gave him to text you. “Heading to the location now.” He says and you swallow harshly, nervous for this to go off without a hitch. “Be careful.” You reply, “Tony is getting restless. We need the team to be there tonight.” You reply, knowing that you need Tony to be taken down tonight.

“Got it.” He replies and closes the phone to tuck away in the car. He’s nervous and he’s never really been nervous when it comes to a bust. Something feels odd but he can’t put his finger on it. Something small but he shakes it off, thinking that it’s just relief that the end is in sight and worrying about getting you out of the op unharmed. The cars pull up and the warehouse is empty, making Marcus frown as he gets out of the car and walks over to where Tony is getting out of his. “Looks like we are early.”

Tony nods, cracking his knuckles as he walks towards Marcus. “Yeah. Early. Looks like we gotta hang around and wait for them and you know how much I fucking hate waiting…especially when it’s waiting for the fucking feds.” Tony looks at Marcus with raised eyebrows, letting him know that he knows.

Dread swirls in Marcus’s stomach but his eyes narrow and he frowns. “Feds?” He asks, feigning confusion as he tries to play it off. Hoping that the team is closing in. His cover has been blown. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tony scoffs, “don’t play fucking dumb. I know who you are. You’re a fucking fed. Little Tony saw you texting on some fucking burner phone and what a surprise when I found out who you’ve been texting. The whore that has been sharing my bed. Little Tony has been my right hand man. He realized you’ve been talking and I thought it was a fucking affair but then I did some digging and guess what I found? You’re a fucking fed.”

Shit. Marcus shakes his head, holding his hands up. “I don’t know what he’s been feeding you, but I’m no fucking fed.” He lies. “I’m the one who gave you this deal. Your right hand man is jealous of you. Fucker probably set this up to get rid of me and make you give him your girl. He’s been talking about how he’ll make her scream better than you ever could.” He tells him, playing against his vanity. “Fucker watches you with her every time on the cameras.”

Tony turns to look at little Tony who shakes his head, “I swear boss. I was gonna take your sloppy seconds. I just - I like to watch, okay? I’m a freak. But this motherfucker? He’s a fucking fed. He’s working for the goddamn FBI. I saw him meeting a fed. You know my cousin, Big Anthony? He has a guy on the inside and he recognized this fucker but couldn’t figure out where from until we did some digging. Listen man, I want your girl but this dude is trying to take you down.”

“So you admit that you’re watching.” Marcus snorts. “But you should have heard him. Talking about how he could run things better. How you aren’t good enough to keep your girl. He’s trying to undermine things and I’m telling you he wants to eliminate the men who actually have your back.” Tony looks torn, and it’s a good thing. If he can plant a seed of doubt, it might save his and your lives. “He wants to be you. He tells all the guys to stop calling him Little Tony.”

Tony is fuming, torn between believing Little Tony and believing Marcus. There’s no hard evidence that he’s seen that proves Marcus is a fed. He turns to look at the shorter man, his eyes a little wild, and he has seen the hunger in his eyes. The desire to take what is his. To be him. It happens in a blink of an eye but one second Little Tony is standing there pleading his case and the next he’s on the floor, blood pouring from the bullet wound in his head.

Marcus jumps, startled by how quickly Tony had turned on his faithful right hand man. While everything Marcus had said was true, Little Tony was too much of a coward to ever challenge his boss. He continues to hold up his hands when Tony turns towards him, his heart pounding as the gun is still raised. “Tony- man-“ he starts to try to talk the man down, but there is a shout from outside and the sounds of gunfire erupts.

Marcus ducks as the vans squeal into the warehouse, feds jumping from them with guns raised and Tony isn’t dumb. He raises his hands after dropping the gun. Marcus raises his hands and the feds rush him, grabbing his arms to slap cuffs on him to keep up the image that he’s not a fed. He doesn’t need anyone hearing he works for the FBI if Tony talks.

You are leaving the nail salon when a van pulls up and you immediately tensing up and wish you had your gun on you but you relax when Agent Johnson gets out of the van. “Agent. It’s over. We got him.” He tells you and you feel like your heart is going to explode in relief. “Marcus? Where’s Agent Pike?” You ask, worried and Johnson chuckles, jerking his head, and he walks around to the back of the van to open the doors. “Agent Pike is under arrest.” Johnson jokes and gestures for you to get in. “Could you-?” Marcus asks, looking up at his cuffed hands. Johnson had made a show of cuffing him to the grab bar. “Not yet.” Johnson teases and you get into the back of the van. The car you’d driven to the nail salon will get seized with the rest of Tony’s assets. You sit opposite Marcus as Johnson slams the doors shut to take you both to debriefing and you look at Marcus. “It’s over.” You whisper, almost unable to believe it.

“Even if Tony gets off on the original charges, he executed Little Tony right in front of me.” He tells you, making your eyes widen in surprise. “He’s never going to get off on those murder charges.” He promises. “You are free.”

“Shit.” You murmur, processing the fact that Little Tony is dead. You’re free and you’re safe. You will get the details later but for right now, you surge across the gap to press your lips to Marcus, his hands still handcuffed and you straddle him to kiss him, cupping his cheeks.

Marcus grunts in surprise, eyes widening when you kiss him. Only to flutter closed in pleasure as he realizes that he can kiss you. Sure he might get some shit from Johnson, but he doesn’t care. Letting you take care and feel like you are in control, knowing that you need this to feel like it’s real. He kisses you back, chasing your lips when you pull away.

You whimper when his tongue pushes into your mouth and you feel him hardening beneath you. Both of you are running on the high of catching the criminal and you are getting wet from the fact that you can be with Marcus now.

You grind down on him so deliciously that Marcus can't help the soft moan that is breathed into your mouth. euphoric that you both made it out, he feels you start to rock your hips as you dig your fingers into his hair.

You whimper into his mouth, pulling back a moment later, “I need you. I got tested today. I’m clean. Can I - can I fuck you?” You whisper, kissing his jaw and you stop grinding down onto him, knowing you need him to think clearly.

He should say no, wait until you've had some time to visit the therapist that will be mandatory for you to see after being undercover. But he sees the desperation in your eyes, the need to feel anything else other than the stress and disgust you have been feeling during this op. "I'm yours." He promises, turning his head and pressing his lips to yours. "Do whatever you want to me, baby."

You moan, shifting off of him to stand up, nearly falling but you manage to shove your panties down, kicking them aside until you straddle Marcus. Your hands fumble as you work on his belt and unbuttoning his pants until you can pull his hardening cock out. “Fuck, Marcus.” You marvel at how thick he is in your grip.

“Shit.” He hisses, twitching in your hand and groaning when you squeeze him before slowly pumping his cock. “I- I’m clean.” He promises you. “Got- fuck- got tested before going undercover and I haven’t slept with anyone.” He confesses, knowing that you might have thought he had taken someone home at least once.

You nod, shifting to lift yourself and position his cock at your entrance. You are wet for him, the very idea of him, and you start to sink down onto him as you cup his cheeks, pressing your lips against his.

He knows you can’t be too loud, the agents up front would be able to hear you. Still he wants you to moan. The soft inhale of breath drives him crazy. He wants to snap his hips up and bury himself in the hot clutch of your warmth, but he lets you slowly sink down on him. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” He breathes out quietly.

Your breath mingles as you pull back for a second and you nod in agreement, “you’re stretching me out. She was a fucking fool.” You murmur, starting to rock your hips. “I love you.” You whisper before you kiss him.

He’s not thinking about Teresa right now, so your words confuse him for a moment. Grinning against your lips when he realizes what you are meaning. “I love you too.” He promises, knowing that Teresa leaving him is for the best, he could help you out of this op and get to be with you.

You cling to him, the van jostling you, and you moan into his jaw when the angle makes your walls clench around him. His fingers flex in the handcuffs and you wish his hands were free so he could touch you but you kind of like having this power. You bounce on his cock, your hands caressing his neck as you watch him.

It’s wild, primal and scandalous, but he loves it. His jaw is clenched as you fuck him, his cock aching every time you clench around him. “Fuck, baby.” He groans quietly. “Use me, ride my cock.”

You won’t deny him or yourself and you rock harder and faster, your moans smothered as you bury your face in his hair. The van jostles you but you reach up to grab his cuffed wrists to keep yourself steady as you ride him.

Marcus grunts, loving how frantic you are. Later, he will spread you out and take his time, but right now you both need this. “Good girl, that’s it.” He croons.

You are getting closer just from the thought of being with Marcus like this. His croon makes you gasp as you rock down onto his cock, getting closer and closer to your high. “Oh fuck, Marc.” You choke, letting go of his wrists to cup his cheeks, pressing your lips to his to stop your cry reaching Agent Johnson as you clamp down on Marcus’s cock.

Marcus groans against your lips and wishes he could wrap his arms around you. Wanting to draw you closer. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” He begs softly. Needing to feel you come apart for him. This isn’t some lurid show on a camera where Tony is railing you, you are taking your own pleasure from him.

It’s impossible to deny his plea and you whimper, clamping down on his cock and your thighs shake as you cry against his mouth, unable to stop yourself from letting him know how good this feels. “Marcus. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, barely able to rock your hips.

Marcus shudders, his hips bucking up as he gives in to your demand. Body stiffening and his cock starts to throb inside your pulsing walls. He moans your name and starts to fill you. Hot ropes of cum start painting your walls.

You gasp at the feel of his hot cum filling you up and you press your lips to his, rocking your hips to work you both through your highs until finally you slump against him. Panting to catch your breath, you gasp his name and kiss his neck.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He chuckles quietly as he tries to catch his breath. “That’s something I never thought would happen.” He admits, turning his head and nudging his nose against yours before kissing you softly. The van is still moving and he hums. “Go out with me tonight.” He asks. “Let me take you out to celebrate.”

You jostle when the van goes over a pothole and you cling to Marcus as he starts to soften inside you. “We are gonna have a shit ton of debriefing and psych evals, but yes. I’ll go out with you.” You grin and you realize you’ll be back at HQ soon so you reluctantly shift off of him, reaching for your panties to pull them on so his cum doesn’t leak down your thighs and you work on tucking him back into his pants.

He watches you closely, admiring how you are so poised. You are strong, really strong. “I don’t deserve you.” He tells you. “I was such an idiot, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t- I wish I had known. It could have saved us both so much heartache.”

You sigh, your palms resting on his thighs, “we didn’t know how the other felt and it wasn’t - neither of us wanted to risk our partnership…our friendship. I didn’t want to be the reason why you looked at me like I had ruined everything so I decided it was easier to leave. We are here now, baby. That’s all that matters. There are so many “what ifs”, but we can’t change the past.”

“No we can’t.” He wishes he could hold you, but he settles for leaning forwards to kiss you again. “I’m going to kick Johnson’s ass for keeping me handcuffed.” He snorts, smiling when you giggle.

You sit opposite Marcus when Johnson opens the van after stopping and he grins, "fuck me, it smells like sex in here. What did you two get up to?" He teases, seeing Marcus's ruffled hair. Your cheeks burn but you wink at Marcus, "just doing what we should've done a long time ago." Johnson nods, "amen to that. Everyone had a fucking bet going until Pike fucked it up and proposed to Teresa. Anyway, let's get you two debriefed." He says, stepping in to uncuff Marcus.

Marcus snorts. “Coulda let me know, pal.” He tells the other agent sarcastically as the key unlocks the cuffs. “What would be the fun in that?” He asks, shooting Marcus a grin and stepping back. “Might want to wipe the lipstick off your neck, Pike.”

You giggle, licking your thumb to wipe the lipstick away from his skin, and you gasp when he smacks your ass as you get out of the van. His arm wraps around your waist as you walk into the building and you know you are safe with him. "So dinner later?" You ask and he nods, "anything you prefer?" You hum and look at him, "I want to do take out back to yours so you can do whatever you want to me."

Marcus groans, his spent cock twitching in interest. “Then you better plan on spending the night.” He tells you, knowing he won’t want to let you go home after. “You can see the place I bought.” He frowns slightly, remembering that you are technically still assigned to the Texas office. “You should transfer to D.C.” He murmurs. “You can’t work for me, but I could ask about getting you on a team?”

You nod without hesitation knowing you want to be with Marcus and you can't ask him to come back to Texas when this promotion was a huge deal. "Absolutely. I'm all in." You promise, squeezing his hand. You've known Marcus for years, been his partner for most of the time you've known him, and you know you are completely in love with him.

“We’ll work everything out, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling over at you. He might have been shocked to learn that you were undercover, but he’s happy that he’s managed to find his way back to happiness with you. “Let’s go get this done so we can start.”

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

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jpbpxma · 1 year ago

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hi, this is a new writing blog for pedro pascal & his characters. I have many ideas of my own to post but I'm also accepting requests for scenarios, specific characters of his you'd like to see written or just anything really, even if it's just to talk so shoot me an ask :)<3

(yes the picture is a way to bring your attention to this post)

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say-al0e · 1 year ago

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Choices

rating: m - this is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Marcus has seen the aftermath of your work more often than you could count. You often worry that he'll grow tired of picking up the pieces after a particularly rough case but he's here to remind you that he'll always choose you. Warnings: Vague mentions of injuries/bruising, darkness associated with working for the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), anxiety, stress, worry, unprotected PinV. If there's anything else, let me know! Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!Reader (BAU Agent [Criminal Minds] Reader) Word Count: 3.4k

The feelings that tended to linger after cases were, in your line of work, rarely ever good. Occasionally, you found yourself elated - happy to have reunited a family or saved a life in the nick of time - but more often than not, there was only sadness. Most cases weighed heavy on your chest, dark and haunting, and this one was no different.

It seemed as if the other members of your team felt the same as the elevator remained silent. Soft breathing and the grinding of gears filled your ears as you slowly ascended to the sixth floor and you weren’t surprised. Six long, grueling days had passed since you last stepped foot in this elevator - bag packed and ready to head to Oregon, Spencer spouting fact after fact as you headed for the jet - and every one of you was exhausted.

Despite the late hour, however, a light illuminated the bullpen.

Marcus sat at your desk, a case file of his own spread across the top. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt, a far cry from his work attire that let you know he’d driven to the office just for you, and you imagined he’d been sitting there since the jet landed.

That, coupled with the overwhelming emotion the case had drudged up, made your eyes sting with tears you refused to shed in the bullpen.

Marcus met your eyes the moment you stepped out of the elevator and his face fell, heartbreak clear in the curve of his mouth, as he took in the glassy look in your eyes. He stood as you crossed the threshold into the small office space, focus solely on you, and waited patiently for you to come to him.

Morgan gripped Marcus’ shoulder as he brushed past him, offering him a look that spoke volumes despite his silence, while the others nodded silent greetings. Everyone began to disperse, each trudging wearily through the bullpen to grab any items they might need, as Marcus gathered your already packed bag from beneath your desk.

“C’mon,” he urged, voice a soft whisper as he took the go-bag from your hand and replaced its weight with the warmth of his palm. “Let’s go home.”

No words were shared as you descended to the parking deck but Marcus made it a point to keep his hand in yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your skin, warm and reassuring, but this had grown almost routine.

Bad days seemed more common than good these days - cases seemed to end with more bloodshed and fewer happy endings - and you wanted to apologize. You hated that Marcus was the one seeing the aftermath, the one left to help you pick up the pieces time and time again, but his grip on your hand gave you hope that he at least understood.

That thought kept repeating as you drove home in silence. The worry that one day, all of the darkness you found yourself surrounded by would infiltrate your life - destroy it in the same way it had destroyed Hotch, the same way it burdened JJ and Emily and Rossi and Morgan and Reid - echoed so loud you feared Marcus would hear it.

Even as you wandered through your night routine on autopilot, Marcus lingering near but giving you enough space to not feel overwhelmed, you worried.

The job was one you loved, one you appreciated the chance to do, but there was a reason everyone you knew had such miserable personal lives. The nature of your work made it difficult to feel human sometimes, especially when your other half often seemed to beautifully human - so bright and full of love and understanding and kindness - and you wondered if Marcus regretted choosing you as you finally settled into bed beside him.

Even as he shifted closer, always so eager to offer whatever comfort he could, you felt a sort of guilt needle at your skin. With anyone else, he would be happy - unburdened by their work, in addition to his own - but you selfishly reveled in the glow of his light as he draped the duvet over your legs.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

Marcus did little to hide the desperation in his voice as soft brown eyes searched yours. The instinct to blink, to hide your face from him and retreat into yourself, was strong but you resisted. There was never much he could do - the very nature of your job meant that this was your reality, that it would happen again and again; you wanted it to happen, to remind you that you could still feel, despite all you’d seen - but that never stopped him from trying.

This was a moment you both needed. You ached for the comfort Marcus provided and he wanted to feel helpful, if only for a moment. It made the pain a touch more bearable for you both but it still made the tears you’d been fighting for hours begin to fall. Marcus crumbled in that same moment, soft eyes widening as he took in the quiver of your bottom lip and the stutter in your breathing, as the weight you’d been carrying finally made you bend.

Soft fingers caressed your side, a featherlight touch that warmed your skin and helped you shake the desperate cold that latched onto you the moment you stepped off the plane, as Marcus made quiet noises of comfort. He shifted even closer, lifted one hand to cup your cheek - fingers careful as they delicately wiped away the few tears that lingered - and your eyes slipped shut as you attempted to relax into the feeling.

It was difficult to keep the flashes from appearing in the darkness - images from the case, faces from the seemingly infinite cases you’d handled over the course of your career - and Marcus seemed to understand what was happening as your eyes flew open with a soft gasp.

That worry that you were burdening him, that you were difficult to love, that you were selfishly clinging to something you didn’t deserve, nestled deep in your chest but you could’t help yourself as you reached for him.

“Make me forget,” you begged, fingers clutching his bicep as you met his eyes. “Distract me, please.” The whispered plea came out broken, thick with tears as you bared your aching soul for Marcus to see so plainly. And his answering sigh made the ache in your chest that much stronger.

“Anything you need, sweetheart.” It was a promise you’d heard a thousand times before, one you always believed but never dared dream you deserved, and inhaled sharply as he brushed away the few tears that managed to fall. “Lie back and let me take care of you.”

Marcus’ soft urging saw you lying back, nestling in the too-soft plush of your newly shared bed, but you willed yourself to focus entirely on him.

The soft curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the downturn of his lips as he frowned thoughtfully, the warm brown of his eyes as he searched your skin for any new bumps or bruises or scars; every inch of him devastatingly familiar and comforting in a way you feared you would lose with every case that took you away from home.

Careful fingers traced the curve of your cheek, trailed down your neck and brushed carefully over the pulse point you knew would betray your rapidly beating heart, but Marcus made no comment. Instead, he continued his slow descent of mapping skin you knew he was more familiar with than his own.

There was rarely any hurry in moments like these. Marcus knew you needed grounding, a return to the safety of your home - of your love, of his embrace - just as you knew he needed reassuring. He took his time searching for any evidence of the difficulty of your work, never failing to press soft kisses to the wounds he could, and your heart clenched as his eyes closed upon lifting the hem of your t-shirt.

A smattering of bruises covered your abdomen, ran down your side and disappeared into the waistband of your shorts, and you knew Marcus immediately imagined the worst. It had been bad and you planned to answer any questions he had, but the injury was of little surprise. The pain had yet to fully sink in - the stiffness, the ache every time you so much as shifted - but you’d seen worse and so had he.

“You should see the other guy.” The joke sounded weak in your own ears, half-hearted and hollow, but Marcus dutifully played along.

As he carefully pulled the fabric over your head, he hummed. “I wouldn’t want to be him.”

Marcus leaned in then, careful to rest as little weight on you as he could manage, and pressed his mouth to yours in a soft kiss. There was a tentativeness to the kiss that he only showed in moments like these, a hesitance that reminded you of that very first date, but it lasted for only a second.

When your hand lifted to the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his skin to pull him closer, Marcus sank into you.

Every emotion he’d felt over the course of the week poured into the kiss. Each ounce of anguish, of worry, of relief bled through the embrace as his hand fell to an uninjured spot on your hip to ground himself. There were worries he’d never speak aloud - fears he kept to himself as he knew they’d only further your own anxiety - but in moments like these, you felt them clearly.

A sort of desperation gripped you, had you pulling him close despite the ache settling deep in your bones, as your fingers pressed hard into his skin. Your focus fell to him entirely, blocking out the darkness that threatened to overwhelm you more often than not, and you were grateful for his presence as he nosed at the hinge of your jaw.

Deft hands trailed down your warm skin, dipped beneath the band of your shorts and brushed at the fabric covering you. This was never truly about pleasure - not in the way it so often seemed to be with Marcus, a partner who truly understood what you needed, what you wanted. This was about connection, grounding, a moment to remind you both that you were home, safely tucked into the sheets at his side once more.

Despite that understand, Marcus was a giver. He never failed give his all and you were reminded of his generosity as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric of your panties.

Warm, featherlight kisses trailed over your jaw, down the column of your throat, as practiced fingers traced your slit. “Focus on me,” he urged, touch teasing but purposeful as he tipped his head to steal a glimpse at your face. “Just feel.”

With fingers still trembling, you lifted your hand to his chest and placed your palm over his heart. Marcus hummed encouragingly, a reminder of the first time he made that request, and you willed your own heart to match his rhythm. Steady and strong, just as he always seemed to be, helped you relax into his embrace as his thumb found the small bundle of nerves.

When he managed to draw a soft sigh, Marcus smiled. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

Soft murmurs of praise filled the room, warm and husky in that tone he reserved just for you, as his fingers pressed into you. With every swipe of his thumb, with every insistent press as he worked you open, you felt yourself returning to the moment at hand. Each flutter of your lashes grew easier, less daunting, and you marveled at his ability to capture your attention so wholly as the dark began to fill with visions of him.

Deep brown eyes, marveling at the way your lips parted and your chest heaved; soft lips, swollen from kisses and the way his teeth sank into them when you writhed beneath him; strong arms, desperate to wrap around your frame as you fell apart beneath him. Visions of Marcus steadily filled the void and warmed you from within, drawing soft moans and eager cries of his name as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

The only pause in his ministration was to tug the soft fabric of your shorts down your legs, eager to slip between your spread thighs in the way he so often did. However, before he could throw you over the edge with a talented tongue and eager eyes watching your every move, you gripped his bicep.

“Not tonight. I just…” It was soft, a careful plea that almost seemed brittle in comparison to your usual requests, but Marcus seemed to understand. With a deep breath, eyes stinging with unshed tears, you shook your head. “Just want you close tonight, please.”

Marcus acquiesced, always so eager to give you what you wanted, and you swallowed the pang of guilt you felt at the position you so often put him in. He deserved more - deserved stable, happy, soft, warm - but you refused to dwell on that thought as he shifted.

A careful hand lifted your leg, littered in more bruises you knew he’d catalogue later, and wrapped it around his waist to press impossibly closer. He nudged his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock before notching the head at your dripping entrance.

The stretch of him always hit you hard, captured your attention fully and made it impossible to think about anything other than his touch, and Marcus used that to his advantage as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. He eagerly swallowed the soft noises that left your lips, the sighs and moans that escaped as he buried himself to the hilt, and left only an inch of space when you both needed air.

With his forehead pressed to yours, those dark eyes always so observant, Marcus set a pace that had you clinging to him. He pressed impossibly deep, hitting the spot that saw stars bursting in your field of vision, and gave in to your insistent tugging as he leaned more of his weight onto you. You knew he’d move as soon as you both finished, eager to keep from hurting you, but you took all he was willing to give and comforted yourself in his presence as he wound you tighter and tighter.

Every snap of his hips, every soft press of his mouth to your rapidly heating skin, every whispered word of praise chipped away at you. Piece by brittle piece, Marcus broke you apart. He would spend the next day putting you back together again but you thought little of anything other than the heat of his skin pressed to yours.

The beat of his heart hammered beneath your fingertips, climbing ever higher with every snap of his hips - with every swipe of his fingers, of his mouth over your heated skin - and you reveled in the break in his voice as he urged, “Come for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

With a cry of his name and clinging to him, you came. Marcus swallowed every noise, lips ghosting over your own, and followed shortly after. And while he would’ve ordinarily allowed you to keep him pressed close, weight resting atop your body, he’d seen the state of you. He’d already pressed closer than he intended and pulled away the moment you both began to come down.

Marcus settled in beside you, pulled you into his chest and gave you space to shift until you were comfortable, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. In the silence of the bedroom, you listened as his breathing evened and debated speaking for a long while.

But as the darkness settled, the silence oppressively loud, you couldn’t stop the words from escaping. “I’m sorry.”

The apology lingered in the darkness for so long that you began to wonder if Marcus had fallen asleep. You knew him better than that, however, and swallowed your own sigh as he made a comforting noise.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” His voice was soft, comforting, but there was a certainty in the way he spoke that made your heart begin to hammer in your chest once more. There was a finality, a promise that made you realize he knew exactly what you were apologizing for, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck as he lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head.

“None of this is on you, sweetheart,” he reminded you gently, voice quiet in the still of the room. “You see such terrible things every day. You’re constantly faced with the worst humanity has to offer but you keep going. You’ve helped so many people. I know how bad it hurts that you can’t save everyone but think of all the people you have saved. This case was hard and the next one probably will be, too, but you never have to apologize for needing help carrying that weight. We’re partners,” he stressed, a reminder you’d heard a thousand times before, “that’s what I’m here for.”

“I know. I just…” Marcus waited patiently, fingers careful not to press too hard to your skin as he brushed nonsensical patterns across your back. “You deserve better,” you settled for, voicing the one concern you held so close to your chest aloud. “My life, it’s just darkness. There’s never any guarantee that the darkness won’t follow me home, that it won’t come back to haunt me, that it won’t come back to haunt you because you love me. There’s no guarantee I’ll come back from the next case or the one after that.”

With a shuddering breath, you shook your head as best as you were able held so close to his chest. “You’re such a good man, Marcus. You’re so kind and loving. You give so much of yourself and ask so little in return. The least I could do is give you an easy love but I’m not… I’m never going to be that.”

“Sometimes, what’s easy isn’t worth having.” Marcus shifted away from you then, turned to the side to flicker on the bedside lamp, and met your eyes in the soft glow. “I don’t want an easy love,” he promised, so certain you felt your chest begin to ache. “I want this love. I want your love.”

When you blinked, tears threatening to fall, Marcus sighed quietly. “I worry. Every single time you leave, I’m afraid that I’ll get a call that you’re coming home with stitches or a cast or that you’re stuck in some hospital somewhere. I’m afraid I’ll get a call that you’re not coming home at all. I hate worrying about that because I know you’re capable and your team is amazing but I’m going to worry because I love you. Every time you come home, I see you doing your best to hold it together and I hate seeing you so broken but I’ll be sitting there, waiting, until you tell me to stop. I hate watching you look over your shoulder after the worst cases, never afraid for you but always afraid for me, but I’ll keep looking with you. You love this job and you do it well. This is your life and I knew what I was signing up for. None of this was a surprise to me,” he reminded you, gently. “I chose this, I chose you, and it was the best choice I’ve ever made.”

The tears began to fall then, both of relief and immense sadness, and Marcus abandoned his attempt to keep you physically comfortable in an effort to bring you the closeness he knew you craved. He pulled you in tight, arms wrapping around you, and held you to his chest. You both knew that this would happen again, that there would be another case and another bout of doubt, but you knew that Marcus would be there to reassure you again and again.

Just as he’d chosen you, you chose him. And it was the best choice you’d ever made.

___________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I'm in a Pedro mood. Let's capitalize on this and knock out a few WIPs and get to work on a Frankie fic. :) I have a job interview this week so fingers crossed it goes well and I get the offer!

Tag List: @peoniarose, @karie-me-home, @rachelwritestuff, @stardust-galaxies, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @a-louise-juliane, @ben-is-a-hoe, @weasleywinchester, @crowfootwrites, @winchestershiresauce, @kesskirata, @lyr1ssa, @viyasstuff, @negansnympho89, @im-just-a-mississippi-girl, @kirsteng42, @balekanemohafe, @avengers-fixation, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @nintendhoe8, @luciferiorbxtch, @jettia, @xoxabs88xox

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #v's fics

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 10 months ago

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New beginnings | joel miller x f!reader, 7.8k

Summary: What happens when you run into that handsome stranger from the bar at Trish’s house? Where do the two of you stand two years after this unexpected encounter?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some back and forth on the timeline, mutual pinning, light angst, slow-burn, a smidgen of fluff, cursing, Joel being kind of a prick, Joel being an idiot, insecurities, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Part two of the I don’t even know your name series and yes, I know it’s been a long time coming, sorry about that! I’m confident (well, aren’t you a bold one?) that the third part will be coming much, much sooner! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all!

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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BEFORE

You know that warmth. You remember it. His warmth. His large, calloused hand completely encircles yours as you formally introduce yourselves. If his reflexes weren’t fast enough, you’d still be staring at him, unable to believe he’s standing right before you.

The storm of all those memories overwhelmed you and Joel realized that, unlike the rest of your company who continued to stand behind your back in blissful ignorance. Your mind had become detached from your body, which seemed to make decisions of its own; you were ready to do anything at this moment.

If he chose to show his hand and acknowledge you, you would follow his lead. If -by some miracle- he chose to lean in and kiss you, you would reciprocate. If he chose to pretend he didn’t know you, you would put up with it. You would do anything to be good for him, no common sense left in your dazed mind. But his face is serious and his warm, dry hand is firmly on yours, squeezing it lightly, in a silent form of communication, I know; it’s ok; get a grip; what the fuck. He doesn’t let go of your hand, acting as an anchor, until you decide you feel grounded enough to handle the situation. It’s at that moment that you can tell he’s waitin’ for you to be in control of the narrative. Whatever you say, goes.

You take a deep breath and tell him your name, as you finally release your hand from his and move aside to let him enter the house. The muscles between his eyebrows and around his mouth twitch imperceptibly, almost in disappointment, you think. His scent as he passes by you, hits your nostrils and your memories flood back into your mind, even stronger than before. Your body tenses and you feel your nipples tighten against the fabric of your bra. You begin to wonder how you’re gonna make it through the night.

You all move into the living room while dinner is being prepared, except for Trish who excuses herself to the kitchen. Tommy sits on the couch next to you while Joel is standing in front of the window with his arms crossed over his chest and Sarah is relaxing in her favorite spot, on some big fluffy cushions randomly scattered on the floor next to the fireplace, scrolling through her phone.

“Trish, do you need a hand?” you try to keep your voice steady, although you desperately need an excuse to leave the room. No such luck. “No babe”, comes the wrong answer, “I got it, you chill and have fun!” Why she has to be such a good friend is beyond you. You smile awkwardly and look everywhere but in Joel’s direction. Tommy puts you all out of your misery by asking you about your relationship with Trish.

“Oh, we’ve been best friends for a long time, done pretty much everything together,” you explain, deliberately raising your voice for the last part, “it’s starting to get unhealthy if you ask me,” you look towards the kitchen entrance, waiting for her reaction. “You’re not moving outta here any time soon, missy, so stop whining!” comes the reply from the kitchen. You grin as Tommy and Sarah laugh. Joel just stares at you with a scowl on his face.

“Are you staying long?” Tommy continues.

“Tommy.” Joel warns him.

“I’m just making conversation sunshine, ‘mnot being nosy!”

“It’s ok, really, no problem at all.” you intervene, feeling sorry for Tommy, still avoiding looking directly at Joel. “I’ll be out of her hair, as soon as I find a place to move to..”

“No, you won’t!” Trish protests. “Yes, I will!” you deadpan, “I told you it was getting unhealthy.”, you wink at Tommy before you could stop yourself. Why the hell did you wink at him? You need to calm down before you do something stupid. Joel’s fingers tighten, clutching his arms tighter to his chest. Shit, you don’t think straight when you’re stressed. Tommy seems to like it, though.

“Maybe we could help you”, Tommy offers, “we see lots of places ‘cause of our job, we could keep you in mind if something good comes up.”

“Tommy.” Joel drags his brother’s name across his tongue as a warning. You look at him quizzically for the first time since your handshake, wondering what they do for a living. Fortunately, you work up the courage to ask Joel directly, before Tommy has time to protest to his brother again.

“I’m a contractor” Joel informs you with the slightest hint of annoyance, as if he was reluctant to share this mundane information, “and Tommy works with me.”

“Oh, that’s cool!”, you raise your eyebrows in admiration, your eyes brightening. He takes his eyes off you and you wither inside.

“Well, never heard that one before. Joel is cool.” Tommy says in mocking surprise, giggling. You look flustered and Joel looks annoyed. “She didn’t say I was cool.” he frowns at his brother, “I know my job is far from fancy, you don’t have to just say that.” he turns his reply to you, displeased with your comment.

God, you feel like a little child in his presence, he can’t just chastise you like that, you have two kids of your own, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. “I know I’m not,” you say defensively and you start to get irritated. This is how the night is going to unravel? “I mean it. I have always admired people who can build and repair things with their own hands. Three pairs of eyes are now looking at you, all of them quite surprised.

Joel has absolutely no confidence in himself to start a conversation with you right now, but his curiosity gets the better of him. So, “How so?” is the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

Your eyes widen slightly in startlement at his sudden elaboration, you hadn’t expected him to continue the conversation. “Uh,” you sigh, raising your brows in deep thought and shaking your head slightly, “maybe it has something to do with my dad, he was always good at fixing things. I don’t know, it made me feel safe, taken care of. Still does, even the thought of it. I always thought that if the world ever came to an end, your kind would be the ones to survive.” you shrug, unable to look Joel in the eye and fidgeting with your fingers on your lap, the answer more intimate than you intend it to be. But you give it anyway, for him.

You want him to know that you would never lie or make fun of him. That night, however indifferent it was to him, made him indelibly etched in your memory. And even though your interaction was so brief, one night out of the thousands in your life, it made you feel something for him. Childish as it may sound, you felt he deserved your respect in some way.

There’s a moment’s silence in the room, Joel staring down at his feet, not wanting to look emotional. Taken care of. He can’t get the words out of his head; it’s what he felt for you that night, what he wanted to offer you before his chance was torn apart by the fucking knoc-

“Our kind?” Tommy intervenes once more.

“Yeah,” you try not to blush, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks, “you know, resourceful, competent, reliable.” Sarah tries to hide her grin behind her mobile phone, sneaking glances in Joel’s direction, little devil, while Tommy looks so pleased with your perception of their profession.

“Then you should definitely keep us close, take full advantage of us,” Tommy fills the silence, now his turn to wink at you, oh god, what a mess, “I’m in the same business, too, like Joel said.” Subtle. “We’d be more than happy to help darlin’, right Joel?” he turns to look at his older, brooding brother. Joel seems lost in thought or uninterested in answering. “Right?” he presses eagerly. Joel slowly raises his head, looks deep into your eyes and says nothing more than “Right” in a deep drawl of a voice. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He makes you feel so small but you feel a glob of arousal pooling on your underwear, making you wonder what the hell is wrong with you.

Tommy turns to you expectantly, his eyes shining under the lights in the room.

“Maybe I intend to.”, you smile softly, glancing briefly at Joel before turning your eyes back to Tommy. Joel’s body stiffens, giving you the impression he’s trying to hold something back.

“Is it something particular you’re interested in, so we know what we’re looking for?” To your and Joel’s dismay, Tommy doesn’t let up. Your eyes turn briefly to Joel for help, but he looks down again, his arms still stiff across his chest, as if they had a mind of their own and were capable of murder if he let them go at his sides.

“Uuuuh,” you laugh nervously, “anything will do considering my situation, I can’t really be picky.”

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” Tommy frowns worriedly. Joel stiffens at the sound of the endearment.

Where do you start with what’s going on in your life right now? Only one person -apart from Trish- seems to know and he doesn’t look very happy at the moment. “Well, Tommy, I’ve two kids, two little girls and I can’t find a place that is decent enough, at a good price and owned by someone who doesn’t mind renting their property to a single mom.” Tommy’s brows are raised so high in shock, they would touch his hairline if they could. “Goddamn, how the hell did that happen?”

“How did what happen?” you ask confused. “You,” he says, his eyes roaming all over you in a definitively not subtle way, “being a single mom with two kids. What the hell did he d-”

“Tommy.” Joel’s tone is more raised this time, shooting daggers at his brother, warning him again to drop it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ” Joel mutters through his teet, a look of disbelief on his face at his brother’s lack of discretion and if you weren’t already looking at him, you wouldn’t have heard it.

Trish comes out of the kitchen before you or Tommy can react.

“Ok guys, let’s move it to the dining table.” she clasps her hands together, “Dinner will be ready in ten!”

While everyone’s attention is focused on Trish, including yours, Joel’s eyes penetrate you in a silent command to look at him. You feel him staring at you and you turn your attention to him. He continues to stare at you as he asks Trish if she has any tools to fix her bathroom cabinet, since Tommy forgot the one thing he was supposed to remember. He takes his eyes off you as the others laugh at his accusation and turn to look at him.

“Yeah, I think I have a small toolbox in the supply closet upstairs, next to the bathroom. I don’t remember exac-”

“That’s ok Trish, I’m going to check on the girls anyway, I’ll help Joel look for it.” you take the opportunity to excuse yourself.

You stand up carefully, feeling your legs go numb and praying you don’t trip and make a fool of yourself in front of everyone. Joel follows behind you as you go up the stairs. You can feel the tension between you, his body heat almost warming your back. He can’t be that close though, can h-

As soon as you reach the door to the bathroom, he opens it in a hurry and pushes you in, grabbing hold of your arm as he follows suit. You gasp at his gesture and turn to face him. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something. His arms are clenched in fists at his side, giving you the impression he’s trying to control himself.

You’re both silent, despite a vocabulary so vast, none of the words seem to fit your thoughts and emotions. “You’re OK.” He speaks first. It’s not a question, not a reassurance. It’s a statement of fact. You look confused, trying to work out where he is going with this. He thought you would break down at the sight of him? Well, he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” It comes out harsher than you intended.

You see in real time a series of thoughts crossing his eyes, something fragile and vulnerable in the air. But it passes as quickly as it came.

“Nothin’, nothin’.”, he shakes his head and closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He opens his eyes with a sigh and looks at you. You stare at each other for a good minute and then you both realize that you are together again, the two of you, in a small bathroom, behind a closed door. Your brain is blank, the only thought crossing it is to say something, say something, say something, but he beats you to it. “It’s best if we don’t tell them we know each other.” Is he serious right now? From all the things he could have said, this is what he came up with? You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration, “Well, I think we’re already past that, that firm handshake at the front door made that quite clear.”

“You played along, though. So, don’t go around accusing m-”

“Hey, hey, I’m not accusing you of anything, where is this even coming from?” you frown in confusion. He wanted you to admit you knew him in front of everyone? In front of his daughter? “Hey, guys, how do you know each other?” “Oh, we almost fucked in a bar bathroom!”. That would have gone well.

“Yeah, I’m just sayin’-”

“Look, Joel, there’s nothing to say. It’s not like I was going to shout it over the rooftops anyway.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”, he looks offended for some reason.

“Means that there’s nothing to say.” you insist sternly. “Literally.”

He laughs nervously, obviously irritated. You don’t understand why, you thought you were making his life easier. What does he want from you? “Right, right,” is all he gives you, nodding his head a few times. You raise your hands in resignation, your eyebrows raised to your forehead, your mouth open, not knowing how to navigate the situation.

“What is your problem, what do you want me to say? You pretended not to know me when you saw me and you just told me, like 30 seconds ago, not to mention anything to anyone! I think I’m doing all right so far, don’t you? How am I pissing you of exactly?” your anger makes you raise your voice slightly.

He’s all over you in a second, pinning you between his body and the bathroom door. “Keep your goddamn voice down.” he grits through his teeth, his one hand a clenched fist at his side, the other next to your head, palm flat on the door. The sudden invasion of his scent in your nostrils and the fan of his breath on your lips is all you can register, but his words come back to you and your anger boils in your gut.

“Watch your tone with me, I’m not some child you can intimidate.” you shoot back. That seems to snap him out of his headspace and he backs away slightly. He exhales loudly from his nose and rests his forehead on his outstretched arm, the other now resting on his hip. His unruly locks are so close to your face that you can practically smell his shampoo. You clench your fist to resist running your fingers through his soft hair. “Shit,” he mumbles through closed eyes, he really doesn’t seem to be able to keep his eyes on you long enough, “’msorry”.

He smells so good, so delicious, that it takes every ounce of strength you have not to wrap your hands around his broad torso. You want this moment to yourself, to wrap your arms around him and comfort him, to plant kisses all over his face, to nuzzle your forehead where his thick neck meets his shoulder, to breathe him in. The corded muscles bulging under his tanned skin make you salivate. This guy is pissing you off and all you can think of is how you’d die to touch him. Great. You rest your head on the door behind you, close your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to regulate your breathing.

“’Msorry” he mutters again, shaking his head. He looks so worried and uncomfortable, you decide to give him another chance. Maybe he’s confused, too. You both had to make a call at such a short notice, with his whole family looking at both of you expectantly to introduce yourselves. It was the logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

Maybe he’s afraid you’d expose your naughty deeds in front of his daughter. After all, no parent wants their child to know that they’ve almost had sex with a stranger in a bar. You totally understand. And to be honest, you did leave him all hot and bothered back in that bathroom and run the opposite way, so why would he want to be in the same room with you? He probably feels insulted by your reaction that night.

Or maybe- how did you not think of this before? Maybe he has a wife. But he’s not wearing a ring. Not that it matters, lots of people take their rings off at some point. Maybe he has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t she be here with them for dinner if that was the case? With him? He doesn’t look the type, either. The cheating one. But you hardly know him, you don’t really know much about him beyond what he told you about his past that night.

“Joel.” you call his name looking at him through your lashes, your head still resting on the door.

“Hm” he hums, still in the same position.

“Joel, hey.” you try to get his attention again, this time lifting your head to look straight at him, a gentle smile on your face.

His eyes finally meet yours in a subtle, tired hey, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

You hold each other’s gaze taking each other in, and you both laugh softly in a quiet understanding. But this feels so warm, so soft and tender, is he really that angry with you? He must be, otherwise why the tension? You should try and put him at ease.

“Look, I understand this is awkward and unexpected; I do. But we’re fine; we’re gonna be fine, Joel.” Damn, the sound of his name in your mouth. “I won’t say anything, really, don’t worry. We’ll have a nice meal, we’ll make the typical minimum small talk and when this night is over we’ll be out of each other’s hair, you won’t have to see me again if I can help it, I don’t mean any trouble, seriously.”

And there it is again, the disappointment. “Yeah, no, I know. Sorry I snapped at you.”

Joel looks as if he’s going to say something more, but at the last moment he changes his mind.

You nod in acceptance of his apology. “Let me hand you that toolbox, before they start wondering what’s taking us so long, hm?”

“Sure.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Ok, I’m gonna check on the girls and then head downstairs.”

Joel nods as he takes the toolbox from you, careful not to touch you and crouches down on his knees to inspect the damage to the cabinet. You glance in his direction one last time, admiring his wide, strong form kneeling on the floor and then close the door behind you quietly.

“Fuck.” you both exhale on either side of the door.

Two rotations of the earth around the sun had passed and Joel had become a constant in your life. He came and went like the seasons, with an orbit of his own.

Winter.

His orbit was longer and colder. The distance between you grew, more so emotionally, as if something was holding him back. The domesticity of it all was too much for him, scratching at old wounds he tried too hard to keep buried. He always cared, always kept an eye on you, but from a safe distance.

Like the time you came home late from work and cursed yourself for not cooking dinner in advance. You were starving, but the thought of making something to eat seemed like too much trouble; you were exhausted. Thank goodness the girls had their dinner ready, all you had to do was heat it up. Two minutes after you let yourself in, the doorbell rang. You rushed out of the bathroom and opened the door to a takeaway, its temperature indicating that it had just been delivered to your doorstep. You looked around but saw no one. You were pretty sure it was a mistake, but then your phone vibrated,

Eat, while it’s hot.

Did you leave these outside?

Yes.

Why?

Trish told me you were caught up at work, thought I’d save you some time.

You just kept staring at the screen, your heart warm but your mind confused. A second text came while you debated what to answer him.

Need to take better care of yourself.

No, why ‘d you leave?

Summer.

His orbit was shorter and warmer, like a pleasant summer breeze. He was around more, more involved in your life.

Like the time he was in on your house hunting trip.

Like when he talked you into buying a house and not renting because he found one for you that was beautiful and ideal and close to Trish’s so you wouldn’t be alone and your daughters would love it and it was a family house. Yes, the house was a ruin. OK, maybe not a ruin, but really old. It was beautiful, but it had definitely seen better days. It needed a lot of renovation.

“Joel, I can’t afford this.” you said as you looked around, almost pained to have to say no. It was a really lovely house.

“Listen to me-” Joel tried to make his point but you interrupted him anyway.

“I am listening to you, that’s how you convinced me to consider buying a house instead of renting an apartment. But if I do, I’ll use up all my savings, I can’t afford a renovation of this magnitude,” you continued, looking around the house, moving from room to room, imagining how you would have decorated it if it was yours.

“I’m gonna help you with that.” he said bashfully.

“How are you going to do that, Joel?” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Do you remember what I do for a living?” Joel teased you and you glared at him.

“I’m not sure, I think you mentioned something about a contracting bussiness?” you mimicked him. “Joel, I’m serious. Of course I would choose you and Tommy if i could afford it.” you said in despair, eyes wide, hands in the air as if you’re pleading with him. Which you were.

“I’ll do it in my spare time.” he suggested, looking down at his feet, avoiding eye contact and hugging his chest with his arms, as if trying to protect himself from the vulnerable position he had put himself in.

It took you a minute to register what he was implying. Your jaw dropped, unsure of what to say when you did. Your heart ached with warmth and your breath caught in your chest. It was too much.

“There’s no way I’m accepting this, you know that.”

“I really don’t min-”

“Absolutely not, not in a million years.”

“Goddamn, you’re stubborn!” he snapped, not used to not getting his way. Take the fuckin’ help, goddamn it. Your eyes looked glazed, you never had the ability to deal well with people snapping at you quite well. Especially people you cared about. Joel felt your discomfort and immediately regretted his temper. Soft things needed gentle handling. And you were soft. So soft for this world. For him.

He stepped closer to you and engulfed your hands in his with a deep sigh. “Look, I’ve done the calculation. This is the best deal you can get. The price of the house is fair. In fact, between you and me, it’s low. And I’ve already worked out what needs to be fixed.” He paused, breathing in and exhaling a little harder. “I want to do this. For y- for the girls”, he stuttered and you looked down to where your hands met. These hands. His hands. Big and warm and capable. Capable of renovating your house, capable of holding your hands in his, capable of taking you apart piece by piece. Were they capable of putting you back together again?

Your whole body tingled with another wave of warmth at his touch. But it was too much. It was always too much with him. The unbearable distance or the suffocating closeness. All because he wouldn’t make up his damn mind. He couldn’t do that to you. Give you a glimpse of affection and then pull away. Because you were sure he would eventually. As he had done so many times before. This time you had to protect yourself. So you pushed him away the only way you knew how.

You tore your hands from his tender grip as you attacked him in a raised tone pointing at him. “We are not your responsibility!” You regretted it the moment you spat it out. You didn’t have to be so harsh. So quick to anger. Please, please be angry with me. Scream at me. Turn your back and walk away. Make me feel like shit.

He looked at you in shock, his eyebrows raised, a hint of sadness on his face. And something else, more subtle. As if in understanding. As if he could hear your thoughts. You were not his to care for. You were not his to protect. “I know that.” he sighed, squeezing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Joel,-” you tried to take it back, there were not many things you hated more than what was happening right now. The fact that you couldn’t take back what you had just said. You felt terrible.

“Look,” he interrupted you, raising his arms in resignation. “I’m just trying to help. You moved states alone with two kids, starting from scratch. I just thought maybe I could ease some of the burden. It’s the decent thing to do.”

“Joel, you are cutting yourself short. This is beyond decent. Trish and you- and- and- Tommy and Sarah of course,” you mumbled embarrassingly, “you’re all I have and you have supported me in more ways than I can count. That’s why I can’t be a burden to you.”

“I didn’t mean you were a burden.”

“No, no, I know, this is not on you, this is me, I-”

His face was full of concern as he waited patiently for you to speak your mind.

“I don’t want to be a burden. Or to feel like one. Even if I know-, I know I’m not that to you. I know that. But just the thought of the possibility makes me freak out. That’s why I need to keep everything under control, because if I give it away, even a little, I don’t know how I could ever repay this kindness. I don’t even know if I’m worthy. I’m not-” your voice broke at this confession and you took a breath to recover, “my life is not easy to navigate, I don’t want anyone to stress over me.”

Joel seemed shocked for a moment, not believing what he was hearing. “You think you’re not worthy of kindness? That’s very cruel coming from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yeah, someone good and kind and caring.”

“You must have me confused with someone else.” you joked, feeling uncomfortable at his praise.

“Darling, if I had known anyone else like you, I would have held on to them for dear life," he spat, before realizing what he had said. He laughed awkwardly, frowning at the slip of his tongue and looked around the room to avoid your gaze. Why don’t you hold on to me, then? was all you could think of, but you didn’t dare ask him. So you moved on, protecting the friendship.

“I just- Jesus, I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you murmured through your teeth, “I was brought up to be strong, never to ask for help, otherwise it was considered a weakness. I learned to do everything myself. By the time my parents grew out of their own insecurities and urged me to be more open, more vocal, it was too late for me to change.” Why on earth are you telling him all this? Why did you mention your parents?

“So, you do kindness, but you don’t accept kindness.” Joel observed and you realized that you had never made that connection.

“I- I don’t know how to receive it; what to do with it.”

In the end, he practically forced his help on you, bit by bit, one sweet word at a time, day by day, until the house was a home. Everywhere you looked you saw Joel’s efforts.

You saw the care with which he worked on this house as if it were his own. You heard his laughter as you forced him to take a break and shoved food into his mouth, knowing he hadn’t eaten all day. Every step you took on the hardwood floors reminded you of his broad back as he knelt down to replace the old floor. Every shower you took was a painful reminder of his massive, veiny hands sweating as he reinstalled the hardware. Everything felt like Joel, even in his absence.

NOW

“What is this party for, again?” you call out from her bedroom as you apply your lipstick in front of her vanity mirror. You almost didn’t come, but you knew she’d drag your ass back to her place if you didn’t.

“This is fooor..” Trish replies from her en-suite bathroom as she searches for a good excuse, unable to find one. “You know what, I don’t need a reason to have a party! Think of it as a chance to see each other more!”

“Trish, we can do this without a million people around us and me leaving my kids with a babysitter.” you roll your eyes in fake exasperation.

“Your kids are gonna be just fine. They want you to have a good time.”

“They’re four and two years old, dude.”

“Well, in that case, they want you to find them a daddy.”

“Oh my god, Trish! Seriously?” you snort at her comment.

“That’s what’s the party’s all about! You finding yourself a daddy; if I’m being honest-”

“Please don’t!” you beg her to stop.

“-you need it more than they do. That is so perfect! I actually have a couple of guys in mind and they’re a bit older, just like you like ‘em-”

“What?” you swallow tightly and you’re glad she can’t see your face right now. “What are you talking about?”

Trish pops her head through the door and wiggles her eyebrows, “They’re about Joel’s age, is what I’m talking about.” You shake your head in denial, your eyes are closed in frustration. “Trish..”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, there’s nothing going on between you; that’s why you’re both hot and flustered every time you’re in the same room.” Your shoulders slump down but you don’t answer because this is getting old.

“What, nothing to say for yourself?” Trish weighs up your reaction and lack of response.

“Frankly, I don’t know what else to say to you.” you shrug in defeat.

“Fine, then find someone to fuck, tonight. That would clear up the air.. for all parties.” Thankfully, you’re saved by the bell, “Jesus..” you mutter to yourself as she leaves you once again to open the door for the first guests.

The party is a success by Trish’s standards, as the house is overflowing with guests. Some of them you knew, most of them you didn’t.

Joel is somewhere in the crowd, chatting to a couple of ladies who have trapped him between them, ogling him like vultures. You make it your mission to rescue him, judging by the desperate look on his face and the furtive glances he throws your way.

As you move to head to his direction, an arm gently encircles your elbow. You turn to see who it is, and are greeted by a stranger. Tall, broad, sweet brown all over his features. He exudes an earthy and secure aura.

“Hi.” the stranger smiles warmly at you, looking deep into your eyes.

“Um,” you blush, why on earth are you blushing, “hi!” you say back. Original.

“I’m Marcus, a colleague of Trish’s.”

“Oh, hi, nice to meet you!” you tell him your name and shake his hand.

“I knew I was right.” he says amusedly, as if talking to himself.

“About what?”

“Trish gave me your name and told me to come find you.”

“Excellent tracking skills, are you a detective or something?”, you tease him playfully.

“Yeah, something like that..”

“Oh- I-” the words catch on your tongue.

“But I had a great lead, wasn’t that hard, to be honest.” he adds.

“Can you share it with me, or you’ll have to kill me if you tell me?” you joke. He was so easy to talk to.

Marcus tips his head back, laughing, “I wouldn’t resort to such methods; let me buy you a drink and we’ll call it even.”

You look down at your hands, your cheeks red from his attention, rolling the bottle of beer you are holding between your palms, too tightly.

“I mean, not right now; I’m sure we could work something out if you’d indulge me.” he adds sheepishly, somehow sensing your train of thought.

God, he’s adorable and not too bad to look at. Actually, he’s quite handsome. “Well, I’ll have to see if your lead is worth my time first.”

Panic rushes through you as you realize the sound of what you said while trying to be funny, and you try to correct it quickly. “Not that- oh gosh-” you feel so embarrassed, but Marcus laughs heartily and shakes his head from side to side.

“Shit, sorry, it was a joke, that’s not the only reason I would go out with you-” Isn’t it? What are you doing? What is he doing to you? Where is Joel? Shit, Joel.

You steal a glance in his direction and he’s already watching your interaction with Marcus, his face hard and unreadable.

“Isn’t it?” Marcus’s voice draws your attention back to him, your eyelids flattering in confusion. He grins, pleased, but so sweet it’s impossible to roll your eyes at him. Your shyness pours through your body language, making Marcus want to comfort you.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool, don’t worry about it. I know it was a joke; I liked it.” he says honestly, “And even if that was the only reason I’m sure by the end of the night you would have changed your mind.” he gives you a lopsided smile, but there’s no smugness on his face.

When he starts to speak again, Trish interrupts, effectively shutting him down. “What took you so long, I thought you couldn’t find her!”

Marcus smiles again, warmth and familiarity washing over you instantly, “Oh, I found her, quite quickly.” his eyes twinkling.

Trish smirks as if she’s realized something, “Come on, I need you outside.”, she grabs your arm and pulls you along, “I’m gonna steal her for a bit, sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s OK, I’m confident I can find her again.”, Marcus winks at you and your heart skips a beat.

You start to walk away, but abruptly turn back, your curiosity overpowering you.

“Never told me about that lead.” you ask him, your eyes wide and wondering.

Marcus bites the inside of his cheek, looking briefly down and then meets your gaze with a hunger in his eyes. “Oh, I had to find the most dazzling woman in the crowd.”, he shrugs as if it was the most self-evident fact in the world. “Mission accomplished.”

You replayed your interaction with Marcus in your mind as you helped Trish light the lanterns on the porch. He had been so kind, direct and sweet, making you feel seen. What bothered you was your reaction. Your insecurity, your inability to believe that he was talking about you. The urge you had to fight when you thought of looking around the room to make sure he wasn't referring to someone else.

What bothered you most was that although it had been two years since you had separated from your husband, you had never felt insecure about yourself. He couldn’t make you feel that way. Of course you doubted yourself at first, looking for your share of the blame, but his actions spoke louder than words, and you couldn’t blame yourself for everything, even if you tried.

But Joel did. He made you feel insecure, vulnerable. With his mixed signals and his constant back and forth, he managed to drive you crazy. What did he want from you? Why couldn’t he make up his mind? Why weren’t you enough? Were you too much?

Maybe it wasn’t just Joel. Maybe anyone in his position would have the same concerns. Perhaps Marcus would do the same if he found out about your family status. Where did that come from? You don’t even know the guy, stop it.

“OK,” you hear Trish behind you, “all set, let’s get back inside.”

You nod, but as you turn to go into the house, Trish comes close, a mischievous look on her eyes and lips. “Maybe, uh..” and she pauses dramatically making you furrow your brow in puzzlement. “Maybe I was wrong about the age gap, huh?”

Oh, god.

“He’s one of the good ones; I approve.” she winks at you and slaps you on the ass cheek, ushering you into the house while you roll your eyes the hardest you could manage.

“Ok, now I need to know.” He laughs heartily, his eyes wrinkling, his whole face lighting up. It didn’t happen very often. It made your heart swell that you were the one making it crinkle with laughter. You loved that face.

“What?” you reply, unsuccessfully fighting back a laugh, dragging out the vowel. You had had a few beers and were relaxed and comfortable around him. You were both standing near the stairs, giving yourselves a bit of privacy from the crowded party. You were still visible to everyone, but it was a little quieter than the constant buzz throughout the house.

“Well, you’re obviously mad at him-” Joel states matter-of-factly, as he leans his back against the wall behind him, but you interrupt before he can finish, “No, I’m not!” and slap your hand on the railing next to you for good measure.

“Uh, uh, uh, none of that,” he looks at you mischievously, “but you never say anything bad about him. So, which one was he?”

“What on earth do you mean, Joel?” and you half whimper his name, thanks to the alcohol in your system, making his cock twitch. God, the things he wants to do to you.

Joel inhales sharply, trying to keep his composure, because he really needs to know what kind of an idiot husband you had chosen to place by your side only to be betrayed; a side he would die to be by. If only he had been the right man for you.

“Which half was he?”

You burst out laughing, finally figuring out what he means. You’re impressed that he still remembers, although it makes sense since you sort of insulted him that night. You know you can’t lie for shit, so you brace yourself, anticipating his reaction. You can almost see the face he’s going to make.

“Actually..” you start, prolonging the suspense, not on purpose, but because you are choking on your own giggles. It’s going to sound so pathetic, but for some reason you can’t wait to tell him how you’ve been deliberately putting yourself down for years. “Yeah...?” His eyes are fixed on you, amused, but you can see the agony underneath.

“He was both.” And you can barely contain your laughter, almost snorting.

He is still at first, as if some invisible remote control has paused the whole scene, waiting for the oh, I’m kidding. When that moment passes, his eyebrows go up so high, his forehead fills with wrinkles. His jaw drops open and he actually looks shocked to the core, almost frightened.

“Both? BOTH?” he practically hovers over you in frustration. “So, emotionally unavailable and bad sex.” he says again, incredulous that someone like you would ever choose someone like your ex.

“Joel!” you chastise him, slapping him on the shoulder, looking around you to see if anyone has overheard your conversation.

Joel fake hisses at your fake hit and taunts you with his laugh.

You shake your head dismissively, “What can I say? You know me, I don’t go halfway, I go all the way.” you reply between laughs, pumping your fist in victory.

He shakes his head in mock despair, then looks down for a few seconds, as if he’s making his mind up for something and then up at you through his lashes. “Oh, baby,” he sighs, “you really need someone to take good care of you” his voice drops, his eyes still holding the amusement but there is a hunger behind his words.

You inhale sharply and then hold your breath as your brain fantasizes about him taking good care of you, right now. You stare at each other for a long time, as if there’s no one else around, and finally you break the silence. A slight anger begins to glimmer in your chest, but you try to push it down. “Well, no such luck on that front.” you drop the bait and see where it takes you.

He can’t say things like that and expect you to do nothing. A small glimmer of hope tries to climb over the uneasy feeling inside you. It sinks its claws into your heart, scratching at the surface of your well-hidden desire. Maybe this time he’ll take a chance on you. Maybe this time he will ask you. Maybe. You try to push that away as well.

“Maybe you should put yourself out there more.” There he is. He’s pulling back, again. It’s fucking exhausting. You know you should be more patient and see where this goes, but your anger is boiling fast, ready to pour out of every pore. He started it, so you might as well finish it.

“Unless, what I need is in here.” Please, please, don’t make me regret this. Over and over, like a mantra.

He swallows so hard you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing, his knuckles turning white around his beer bottle. His eyes keep darting between yours, searching for something.

“Pretty sure it’s not, if you know what’s good for you.” Did he just say that? Your pulse rises and you hold back the tears that tend to gather so easily at your waterline. How could he say that to you? But you recover quickly, he won’t see another drop of tears from you. Not ever again.

“What, you don’t like Marcus?”

“Who?” you see Joel’s body stiffen at the man’s name, his eyes frantically scanning yours for an answer and revenge never tasted better. You would say you were drunk on power if it weren’t for the damn beers.

“Marcus, Trish’s colleague from work, she introduced us tonight- well- not exactly, but- anyway.”, you dismiss your own comment by waving your hand in the air. “Maybe you’re right. I should start giving people a chance. Maybe I’ve waited long enough.” There’s someone interested in you. He’s interested in you and he’s shown it. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel the look of desire in someone’s eyes. But you’d rather it was Joel’s.

Check mate. His move now.

“Are you sure you want to lead with Marcus?” His voice full of mockery. “You don’t even know the guy.”

“Oh. So, let me get this straight.” you counter. “I should get myself out there and I should do it with someone I know. Let me think.” you take a deep breath and in that short time of in and out through your nose, you debate whether you should say it. Joel seems to catch up with what you’re thinking, raises his hand and purses his lips, but before he can speak-

Fuck it.

“Are you offering?” You ask playfully, with a saccharine smile. Sometimes you really wish you were not so direct. But you couldn’t deny the sweet satisfaction of nailing him to the wall, when you saw the look of mortification on his face. The time for regret would come, but it was not right fuckin’ now.

Joel is speechless, his eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes without a sound. He clearly thought you’d back down. Maybe he thought you liked this dancing around. Maybe he thought he had more time on his hands. Or maybe he didn’t expect you to finally confront him head-on. Still playful, but head-on.

He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. He starts to say something, but you don’t catch it because out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus approaching you quickly. If a higher power was listening tonight, it was focusing on the wrong part of the story.

Just before he enters your personal space and you excuse yourself, you linger slowly over Joel, touching his waist with one hand. You feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt and under your palm. You take your eyes off his and look at his plush lips as your face comes dangerously close to his. Your lips brush the space between his earlobe and his neck and you painfully accept this is probably the most you will ever have of Joel Miller. His breath hitches at the feel of your soft lips and the puff of air as you whisper in his ear, “Relax Joel, I wasn’t counting on you.”

That hurt.

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