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wardenparker · 2 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 4

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Family dynamics that contain debating as a method of communication, heavy familial expectations, changing relationships, talk of pregnancy and childbirth. Summary: A family dinner at the White House, a meddling best friend, and the mysterious case of the missing Congressman. Notes: Shout out to Keri for making me unexpectedly bawl about three-quarters of the way into this chapter. Thanks for that, babe. As usual, sorry for an errors I might have missed and thanks for reading!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

It isn’t unusual for a family to sit down to dinner together during the week. If you’re a busy family, living scattered about in different places, even a once-a-week dinner is worth scheduling. But when you’re the First Family, it gets a little complicated. The food is always amazing. That isn’t up for debate. And it is nice to actually see your mother when she isn’t surrounded by a swarm of staff or on a television screen. Alex and June are great too, when they aren’t being absolute pains in the asses. The only thing you’re hoping is that no one asks you about Sam at dinner tonight.

Family dinners always occur in the residence, around the long wooden table that is a substitute for the one you had grown up sitting around. No press, no phones at the table and the only interruptions that are allowed during this time is a matter of national crisis. Everything else can wait. It's why your mother is a successful politician while balancing her family, she gives everything its proper time. "So a little birdy told me that your inn is booked solid for the next few weeks." She looks over at you with a proud smile, aware that you work incredibly hard to make your vision, your dream, a success.

“Through April.” You nod, finishing a bite of food. The White House chef takes his chicken Marsala very seriously and it’s so good that you can’t get enough of it. “It never fails. People are always excited to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Will you still be able to attend the State dinner?” Although it was more a mandatory invitation, she would understand if you couldn’t break away. After all, she has a very demanding job as well.

“Of course.” Not aware that you had had any choice in the matter, you get smirked half-glances from your siblings that tell you they would try to get out too, if they could. “Although…I do have a question about that.”

She looks up from cutting her chicken, your father looking up from his glass of wine curiously. “What is that?”

“I know that it’s only a week away, so I am not asking for anything besides clarification.” Something about your parents’ reaction makes you feel like you need to say that out loud. Otherwise you might be up for one of your family’s famously endless debates. “Has the seating arrangement already been done so that all of us,” you motion to yourself and your two younger siblings. “Have a plus one?”

“Of course.” Your father has been the one handling the details of the State dinner and has meticulously planned the family seating arrangement. “Why?”

“Just double-checking. It’s the first State dinner, after all. I just want to make sure it goes smoothly.” It doesn’t matter that you were desperately hoping he would say no, or instantly offer to rearrange the seating chart if needed, or literally anything else that would get you out of having to have an uncomfortable conversation with Sam after barely talking to him at all the last few days. Maybe you could ask Juan to…Nope. There’s a rehearsal dinner at the inn that night. Shit.

“Good.” He smiles and gives you a knowing look. “I did not place Sam and you near too many political adversaries.” He snorts. “He won’t spend the entire night in a debate.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Dad. Thanks.” There is a solid chance Sam would prefer that over the stony silence between the two of you, but you can’t say that. Not with your mother at the table. It will turn into a full-blown debate over what has gone wrong in your relationship and how to fix it, and you don’t need your meddling siblings to have that kind of ammunition on you. “So,” you turn to them instead. “Alex? Junie? You guys have dates?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m bringing Dave, since he wants to go into law school.” He huffs. “He wants to intern with one of the senators.” Junie just shrugs. “Not yet.” She murmurs, bored by the idea of the dinner at all.

“Dave gets to come to a State dinner?” Your brother and his boyfriend generally keep things under wraps, and it works well since they’ve been best friends since they were kids. Like the gay male version of you and Sydney except they became a couple. “That’s sweet, Al. Maybe he’ll actually get you to behave yourself.”

“Never.” He flashes you a grin, making your mother huff in exasperation and amusement.

“No potential guest on the horizon for you, Junebug?” Your father asks, looking to his youngest child on the other end of the table.

“I’m either going to have someone want to go so they can rub elbows with politicians and brag they went to the State dinner, or be completely bored out of their minds.” She shrugs. “So I don’t know if I want to ask anyone.”

“Is that even an option?” You’re really trying not to make it sounds like you’re hoping for a yes, but you are. To be told you can go solo would solve every single one of your problems at the moment.

“We cannot have empty chairs.” Your father shakes his head. “Junie, if you don’t pick someone, we will have to find a filler.”

“Do you want me to ask Dave to bring his brother?” Alex offers, always only helpful to the baby of the family. “Noah can dance, doesn’t care about politics, and you can bitch about college the whole time of you want.”

“Please?” Her eyes turn hopeful and she knows that will be better than some filler guest.

“You got it.” Alex grins and flashes that thousand watt smile at your parents. “See? Problem solved.”

“Thank you.” Your father looks relieved and your mother gives him a smile before cutting into her chicken again. “Happy to have that settled.” She hums.

Settled. Ugh. If you weren’t about to turn thirty, you would be pouting at the table. Instead you let discussion float by, as your father double checks that all three of you have your White House approved outfits for the night and you’ve managed to memorize all the facts and statistics on the Spanish royal family that were handed out by your mother’s staff.

The dinner moves on to dinner dessert and the dinner plates are changed for wonderful pots of chocolate lava cake, a back up dessert for the State dinner for anyone with a gluten intolerance or nut allergy.

“This is amaaazing.” June groans, ever the chocolate fanatic.

“It is delicious.” Your mother agrees. “Rich.” She looks over at your father. “You said this was gluten free?”

“Hard to believe isn’t it?” He laughed like he’s got some trick up his sleeve but he’s really just pleased. “Apparently this is one of the easier cakes to do with alternative flours.”

“Perfect.” She might be President of the United States, but she and your father were a team. “You did wonderful finding an alternative, honey.”

“You like the orange sauce with it?” Everyone’s anxieties are high for this first occasion and your father wants everything to be perfect.

“Perhaps offer a raspberry or strawberry?” She suggests, looking around the table for everyone’s opinions. “What do you all think? In addition?”

“It’s a little sweet,” you admit, hating to ever disappoint your father. But there is a reason you all have so many round table discussions in your family. “Maybe blood orange would offset the sweetness a little? And be a little more luxurious?”

“Ohhhh blood orange would be amazing.” Alex chimes in, nodding in agreement. “Balance the sweetness of the chocolate.”

“Oh my god yes,” June groans, already having mostly inhaled her lava cake and furtively peaking to see if either you or Alex is going to be willing to give yours up.

Alex snorts when he sees that beseeching look on his younger sister’s face and slides his lava cake towards her.

“This is what you should have for your birthday.” Junie tells you emphatically, digging in to what’s left of your brother’s dessert. “No question.”

“Why? So you can eat all of it?” Your brother snorts. “But-“ he looks back over at you. “What are you having at your party?”

"I honestly haven't thought about it." There's still a month left until your birthday so it hadn't even crossed your mind yet. "Maybe I'll just go to a Nationals game if I can get away from work. Who knows?"

“Oh honey, you shouldn’t do that.” Your mother huffs slightly and shakes her head. “Go to a Nationals game, sure. But you need to have a party.”

"Why?" It sort of feels like whining this time, but you have to wonder what her logic is. "Because I'm one of the First Kids? Because I'm turning 30?"

“Because you deserve a party where others cater to your wants and is about you? Celebrating my oldest baby’s birthday.” She implores, expression soft and loving.

If there is one thing your mother is annoyingly good at it, it's showering love on her children despite being busy. No birthday ever went by without acknowledgement. No success uncelebrated. No set back unconquered. "So does that mean you and Dad are going to throw it and all I have to do is show up?" It's highly unlikely considering how busy they are, but you have to try, right?

“Absolutely.” Her grin is positively smug, like you have fallen into her trap, which - you have. “Of course, we are not going to have it at the White House.” She rolls her eyes slightly. “But you just pretend it will be a surprise. I’ll let Sam know where to bring you.”

"I can't know where to go myself?" Since there's a chance Sam won't even be in the picture in a few weeks, you would rather just have her tell you. "And please don't make it some big, formal thing? If I get told to wear an evening gown to my birthday, I'm not showing up."

“Nothing formal.” She promises. “No ballgown, but a nice dress.” She compromises, tilting her head. “For pictures? Not official ones, of course.”

Regular negotiations with the President should make you eligible for some kind of ambassador position even as her daughter, and you tilt your head at your mother before making a full agreement. "Cocktail attire maximum, the music cannot be described as orchestral anything, and the fancier the venue is, the lower class the food has to be. Those are my conditions."

“Finger foods inside of an upscale tavern?” She poses, smirking slightly at the way you negotiate with her. Out of all the children, you are the closest to her personality, even if you don’t see it. “With specially crafted cocktails to celebrate your birthday? And a playlist composed of your favorites songs from each year?”

"I'll build a core list for the music. Because I don't trust Alex not to sneak Cotton Eye Joe or something into the mix." Like any good wheeling-and-dealing adult child, you have to get just one more compromise in there before sealing the deal. "And I will provide you with a list of friends I'd like invited outside of the normal group. Obviously I know you'll give the information to Sydney, Anna Leigh, and Issy."

“Deal.” She nods and looks very pleased with the situation. “Honey, I will plan this.” She promises, reaching out and patting the back of your father’s hand. “I want to plan it.”

"Along with running the free world, she's also a party planner." Your brother snorts, always ready to tease. "You know you can just hire Juan to do it, Mom."

“No.” She snorts and blows a raspberry at your brother. “It’s my baby’s birthday. I want to plan the perfect party to ring in thirty.”

"And somehow Birdie still doesn't get that she's the favorite." June laughs, throwing you a smirk before she rolls her eyes playfully at Alex.

“Now you know that is not true.” Your mother protests, rolling her eyes. “I love all of you equally.”

"Yes, Mother." Alex and June chime in unison, making all of you break into laughter at the same time around the table.

“Managing you kids is almost harder than running the country.” She grumbles, even though she’s grinning.

"We just wanted you to have a lot of practice before you got to the White House." You assure her, still laughing with your siblings. "Because being Governor of Pennsylvania was definitely not enough. Your children are the real test."

“Yes they are.” She agrees, laughing with all of you and your father. The truth was, she has incredible children that she’s proud of beyond measure. Often she tells the world that her best accomplishment has been raising the three of you and it’s not line to appeal to her core voters, she truly believes that.

"So, I have a logistical question." Satisfied temporarily with the amount of chocolate consumed in one dinner, June sits back in her chair with her glass of iced tea and proves once more than kids take more corralling than countries. "If the State dinner is next Saturday, does that count as family dinner?

Your father rolls his eyes and sighs while your mom narrows her eyes in thought and looks towards her husband for his thoughts. “What do you think, honey?”

"The purpose of Friday night dinners is to have a chance to sit down together as a family and catch up. Enjoy each other's company. Celebrate the week's small wins." It's what they had agreed on years ago when this tradition had been born. "So by that logic, I would say no. Since we won't be sitting around enjoying each other's company while the king and queen of Spain are visiting." He narrows his eyes though, in a way that definitely speaks to how long your parents have been together. They have identical expressions right now. "Why, Junebug? Did you make other plans?"

“I—” she falters for a moment and then shrugs. “There’s a party I wanted to go to, but I don’t have to go if my presence is required.”

Your parents exchange a glance, that decades-long nonverbal communication at work for not the first time today. "Why don't we have dinner a little earlier?" You father offers. Compromise is always the name of the game in the First Family. "If we have dinner at six instead of seven that night, will that give you enough time, kiddo?"

A partial victory counts, so she nods. "That would work. It would give me plenty of time to be annoyed at my security detail."

"Sounds like a plan." Your mother smirks, relieved to see that none of her children have tried to give their agents the slip yet. She had expected it from June, if she's honest. She's definitely the most independent and the most rebellious.

"Wish we didn't have to have them." She pout slightly, even though she had known this was part of the deal. She hadn't expected it to chafe so much though, if she was honest. She have been very innocent in believing they would just a vague shadow.

"I'd rather have you annoyed by their presence and be safe, than let you go without them and have something happen to any of you." It's non-negotiable, you all know that, and your mother is frankly very glad that it comes with the office. Trying to make sure all three of you are safe without the Secret Service? No way.

"I know." She doesn't have to be happy about it though. "I just— wish the world didn't suck so badly sometimes." She murmurs quietly.

"Here here." Alex nods, knowing that all the different ways the world sucks have affected him in ways the rest of the family hasn't experienced on their own. Everyone may tout their belief in soulmates loudly, but he can't even go out and hold his soulmate's hand without risk. If anything, he's grateful for the Secret Service agents that have been assigned to make sure he stays safe.

"I know that you are disappointed that I haven't been able to push through the soulmate resolution yet." Your mother is addressing Alex, but she shoots him a reassuring look. "But I know that it is close." She looks towards you. "Sam has been a strong voice in the fight to approving the resolution." She praises. "You should be very proud of him."

Mom, you’ve only been in office a month. No one at this table expects you to work miracles.” You steadily ignore the remark about Sam, feeling like your blood pressure is rising a little every time he gets mentioned tonight. “The Resolution is a really good piece of legislation and it’s only a matter of time before it gets passed.” Looking to your brother, though, you offer him the proudest smile you can manage. “And then this pain in the ass can have the White House’s first ever gay wedding. One for the history books.”

Alex snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He huffs. “I don’t want a stuffy White House wedding where I have to invite every dignitary I know. I’ll leave that to you.” He hums with a smirk.

“I’m not getting married anytime soon so what does it matter?” An awful lot of people have been very invested in your future lately and it’s grinding on you to the point where you shoot back a reply without even thinking of it.

Your father’s brow shoots up, surprised at the tone you had used and he glances at your mother, a silent look passing between them.

The silence at the table is ringing, and you put down your wine glass as delicately as you can manage. “What?” You ask, looking around the table but not willing to apologize for being cranky. “I’m not engaged, am I? It could be years before I settle down.”

"Nothing." Your mother shakes her head and smiles at you. "Things will happen in their own time." She councils softly. "You don't have to adhere to anyone's timeline but your own."

“Right.” The best you can do is sit back and have the decency to look a little sheepish, but you can feel the question marks in the eyes of your family members all watching you. It is massively uncomfortable at best.

"Okay." Alex senses something is wrong with you, that you want the subject to change so he claps his hands. "So, I have a question." He recaptures his parents attention. "Do we have to dance at the State dinner?" He asks seriously. "Because you know Dave has two left feet and I can't be embarrassed like that."

“You can dance with your sisters,” your father offers, sensing the same thing as his son. “Or with your mother, or the queen? Or any of the young men there, if you want to end up above the fold of the Washington Post.” It’s purely teasing, of course, since anyone who knows Alex knows he is only in the closet publicly.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Nahhhhhh." He waves away the idea. "I don't want to have to hire a PR manager this early in my life." He jokes. "It would drain my savings."

"I guess we'll all behave ourselves." June observes with a wry smile.

"That would be extremely appreciated." Your mother hums, smiling at all of you. "I know you all have busy schedules, but I am so glad we can still get together."

It's Sunday before the dress arrives at the inn for the State dinner, and you and Sydney were enjoying a rare afternoon off together when Malachi lead the worried-looking White House staffer around to the back porch of the inn to let them hand it over to you in person. Sending them off again with your thanks, you push out a sigh. "I haven't heard from Sam in almost a week," you admit when your best friend fixes you with an inquisitive expression.

"Have you reached out to him?" Sydney asks, frowning as she holds the passion fruit tea she has been obsessed with over the last few days. "He might be embarrassed and unsure of how he will be received?"

"I sent him a text yesterday asking if we were still on for our plans tonight, but...nothing so far." Making plans ahead of time had been a definite strength for the two of you before now. But since Valentine's Day? Communication has been non-existent.

"Have you tried his office?" It's not like Sam to just blow you off, so she wonders if he's been caught up in meetings.

"I—" You blow out another breath. One that feels like defeat. "I'm afraid of calling and having Vanessa pick up," you admit. It feels stupid but you can't help it. "The idea that she could be feeling chatty and say something about Marcus just...I know that's stupid."

"Have you tried to text Marcus?" That's the next question is the most obvious one to take the conversation. If you aren't in contact with Marcus or he hasn't responded to you, that could be why you are feeling like a duck out of water.

"No." That idea makes you shake your head sternly and reach for your drink. The covered porch and little space heater is nice for sitting in the sunniest hours of the day, but you still made yourself a cup of hot coffee to sip while you sat with Sydney. "No...I mean...he probably hates me by now."

"I don't think he would hate you." She's already making an note to have Juan reach out to Pike himself. Maybe take him out for a beer and feel him out on the situation. "You cancelled a causal invite to dinner, you didn't cancel taking him to the State dinner."

"I can't even think about the dinner." Your fingers drum on the box beside you, knowing the dress inside is beautiful but not wanting to face the reality of how uncomfortable the night will be. "If I don't have a date I have to tell my father as soon as possible and I'll get stuck with a million questions and a seat filler."

"Then you need to call Sam." She huffs. "Even if he's fuming at you, I doubt he would miss the State dinner."

"I know, I know, I know you're right." But you don't really want to call him. If it's been almost a week and he's effectively ghosted you? That seems like a pretty clear signal to you.

"Babe....you need closure." The bags under your eyes aren't doing you any good, despite the sleepy time tea that she had been sending to you. "If you are ending things with him, you need to be an adult about it."

"Ugh." You groan, letting your head tip back so the sound drags out dramatically. "Stop making sense and giving good advice, it's interfering with my denial and the reconstruction of my emotional walls."

She laughs, although it's not really funny. She knows where you and it's a shitty place to be. Sighing softly, she picks up your phone and holds it out to you.

"I hate you." Even muttered good naturedly, you still snag your phone from her hand and clutch your coffee mug like a security blanket. Sam's office number is programed into your phone and you squeak with combined fear and frustration as the call connects and begins to ring.

"Congressman Chase's office." Vanessa's voice comes over the line cheerfully and professionally. "How may I be of assistance today?"

Don't be a coward, you remind yourself sternly, as soon as you hear her voice. "Hi Vanessa." Saying your name clearly eliminates any assumption that his staff might recognize your voice, even though you know a few people absolutely do. Some of his staffers like to chat to you while you wait for Sam to come to the phone when you call his office. "Is Sam available?"

Her use of your last name is merely one of respect, choosing to keep things professional with the Congressman's girlfriend. Slightly confused because you are calling for him at the office. "Did he not tell you?" She asks, her voice lower than the usual chipper tone.

"Apparently not." There is no way you're going to fess up that Sam hasn't spoken to you in days, or returned even so much as a text message. Now you're concerned something might be going on.

"The Congressman has been sick all week." She only knows how bad it is because he had spend the first few days trying to work through it. "He has pneumonia." She huffs quietly. "He's been barely reachable but I had though the would have at least let you know."

He's sick. You barely manage to swallow a sigh of relief at that news, and only because you know how inappropriate that would sound to his aide. "I hadn't heard the official diagnosis." It's as smooth a lie as you can muster at the moment, and you cling to your warm mug all the harder. He's sick. That's why he hasn't called. "Thank you, Vanessa."

"Of course." She's confused, but she also knows that the medication the doctor had prescribed him was to help him rest since he had been trying to push himself. "Anytime."

The groan of relief comes only after you disconnect the call, and you deflate into yourself in your chair. "He's sick," you tell Sydney with a groan. The heel of one hand digs into your closed eye like you're trying to banish a headache but it's really just that you feel the pressure releasing from your mind. "He has pneumonia. He's been out since the beginning of the week."

"Okaaaaay." Surprising, but honestly, it's not? Considering it's Sam and he's pretty direct about things. It's one of those traits that Sydney admires about him. "That's a very valid reason for not texting or calling." She admits. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I'm not thrilled that he's sick, but I'm very relieved that he didn't just ghost me. He sleeps like a rock around the clock when he's sick, so he's probably just passed out at home." The one other time you had seen him with a cold was several months ago, and it seemed like he had slept for three days straight before springing back up on his feet like nothing had happened.

"He didn't just ghost you." She grins at you, even though you are still conflicted about Sam, the fact that you are relieved by this means there's something there. "Do you want me to whip him up some chicken noodle soup to drop at his doorstep?"

"Do you want to go upstairs?" When the two of you actually get the chance to cook together it's always fun, and this sounds like the perfect opportunity. You didn't have a dinner plan anyway. Chicken noodle soup for two is easy enough. "I did my grocery shopping this morning so I know I have everything. And..." you pat the dress box beside you. "I should hang this up. I don't think velvet wrinkles but I still don't want to take a chance."

"Absolutely." She sends you a smile, happy that you look relieved and like a weight has been lifted off your chest. "We will have Congressman Chase cured with our famous chicken noodle soup in no time."

Juan had taken the afternoon to go for a ride around the Virginia backroads so it's just you girls right now and that sounds pretty perfect. You gather up your things and nab Agent Bailey, heading upstairs to get to work and try to ease your mind a little. "I do still have a problem," you point out, when the elevator hits the top floor.

"What's that?" Sydney frowns, looking at the screen that shows the floor you are on. She really hates elevators, but this helps her mitigate that fear that the damn thing would plunge into the basement like all those action movies she had watched as a kid.

The doors slide open and you let her out first, stepping up behind her to unlock the door and let the three of you inside. "Now I definitely need to find a new date for the State dinner."

"Oh shit." Sam can't attend the State dinner with pneumonia, it would be too great of a risk. "Well, I can have Juan escort you." She had plans to have dinner with her parents and reveal the name they had chosen, but this was important and she could reschedule.

"Honey, no." She's been excited about the dinner with her parents for a week already and it wouldn't be fair to take Juan away from that. "You guys have family plans and I'm not going to ruin that. I'll just...think of someone else."

"Malachi?" She offers. "He would look good in a tuxedo."

For a split second you get excited about the idea, but you sink again as you readjust the dress box on your hip. "I need him here that night." You tell her, groaning about it. "We have that six-person reservation that needs a translator. Malachi is the only one on staff who speaks Hindi fluently."

"Fuck." The fact is there aren't a lot of men that can just be called up last minute to look good in a suit and be cleared to be in a roomful of the world's top dignitaries. Unless... "I have an idea and you're going to hate it." She promises as you open the door to your apartment. "Give me your phone."

"I trust you with my life but I do not like that tone in your voice." Still, you hand over your phone with confusion on your face and start to unpack the burgundy velvet evening gown that was altered to fit you perfectly. "Please don't call any of my exes."

"I am not calling any of your exes." She promises you, opening the phone with a code and opening your phone book. It's easy to find the number that she is looking for, because you are a stickler for putting numbers in properly and hits call, changing the phone to speaker so you can hear it ring.

The call rings three times before it connects, and even if Sydney hadn't been angling the phone away from you so that you couldn't see the name, you're pulling the dress out of the box when you hear the unmistakable "Hello?" on the other end.

Suddenly you're standing straight up and glaring at your best friend – your former best friend – for this ultimate betrayal. "Marcus." Your voice cracks when you say his name and you just want the floor to open and swallow you up. "Hi. How— how are you?"

"Oh, hi." It's obvious that he's confused as to why you are calling him on a Sunday, but he doesn't hang up the phone. "I'm good, how are you?" He asks politely, actually sounding like he is interested in the answer.

"I..." You sink down on your bed, letting Sydney continue to hold your phone, and hug the dress to your chest. "I'm calling for a couple of reasons," you decide. Now that you've been confronted with this phone call, it all sort of comes tumbling out. "I wanted to apologize, first. For being vague on rescheduling our Indian dinner last weekend, and then taking off like the Wicked Witch was after me when I saw you the other morning. I've...it's been a weird week. And that was rude of me. So I apologize."

“I understand.” Marcus gives a rueful chuckle. “I’ve had a bit of a weird one myself. My phone has been broken three different times in the past week alone.” He snorts. “And half my contacts and messages have been unrecoverable according to the techs at the store.” He sighs. “So if you send me a message or something and I didn’t answer, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you.”

The I told you so look on Syd's face causes you to throw a pillow at her and you shake your head as though he was in the room with you instead of over the phone. "I texted you once about rescheduling dinner,' you admit. "But...I have a slightly different suggestion, if...if you want to hear it? And I would consider it an enormous favor."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to decline, but he is curious to hear what this favor is. “Hit me.” He tells you with a slight chuckle. “But not too hard. I have to work tomorrow.”

"I promise I'm not capable of punching through a cell phone." It's easy to talk to him. So easy. And it lulls you into a momentary false sense of security as you sit back on your bed. "But...I have a plus one to a State dinner for the Spanish royal family on Saturday night and I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party at the White House?" It's such an insane thing to ask a person that you almost feel like it's an out of body experience, but there it is. It's out in the open. There's no taking it back now.

“I-“ Of all the questions he tries to anticipate, that was not it. He frowns slightly, wondering about the congressman, until he remember that Vanessa had said he was sick with pneumonia. It’s likely him being sick has put you into a frenzy to find someone to go. Not the reason he would like to have dinner with you, but he wants to view you as a friend and this will be a friendly, public event. “Sounds like I need to get my tuxedo to the cleaners.”

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver." The air whooshes out of you all at once and you fall back onto your bed with a gigantic sigh. "I will come and pick you up myself, the food is going to be amazing, and you can rag on me with my pain-in-the-ass siblings all night. I can't say how grateful I am, Marcus. Really. Thank you so much."

“It’s a honor that you even considered me to escort you” Marcus tells you truthfully. “I’ll be exited to go and I promise to keep the ragging to a minimum.”

"You've earned the right, I promise." You blow out another breath and manage to sit up but solidly ignore the smug look on your best friend's face. "I'll text you the details, if that's okay? Is your phone situation all worked out?"

He laughs quietly. “Hopefully so. All I know is that it is never a good idea to set your phone on the roof of the car when the rookie is driving.” Marcus snorts. “If I don’t get a message by tomorrow, I’ll call you. Sound good?”

"Sounds perfect." Quiet for a second, you take your phone out of Sydney's hand and smile, the smallest twitch of the thing in the corners of your mouth. "Thank you, Marcus. I owe you, but I promise we'll have fun."

“Don’t even worry about it.” He promises. “Well, I hope you have a great rest of your weekend, okay?” He asks. “And tell Sam to feel better.”

"I will." Passing that message along might be slightly strained, but it's the thought that counts. Thanking him again, you press the red button on your phone screen to end the call and groan so loudly that Agent Bailey sticks her head into the room just to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. "I can't believe you did that!" You squawk, throwing a second pillow at Sydney. This one hits her square in the shoulder where the first one missed.

“But tell me it wasn’t worth it?” She challenges, throwing the pillow back at you. “You have a date for the State dinner and you learned that he wasn’t ignoring you either.” She folds her arms over her chest and looks at you with a smug smile. “Come on, what other problems do we need to solve? World hunger?”

"Go to Friday night dinner in my place if you want to work on global issues." You snark playfully. The fact is, you know she's right. Annoyingly so, actually, and right now you're still processing.

“Maybe now you will get some sleep.” She huffs, still smug that everything was working out. “You’ve got a dress, a date and I’ll even have one of the wedding stylists that owes me a favor come do your hair and makeup.” She hums. “I made a special dinner for her and her boyfriend for Valentine’s.” She explains.

"What are you, the Romance Fairy?" Dragging yourself off the bed, you carry the dress over to your closet and carefully hang it up where nothing bad could ever touch it. The garment bag that it's in will help make sure of that. "Come on, we have soup to make."

She doesn’t mention that the State dinner isn’t supposed to be romantic. She just grins and follows you. “Yes ma’am, Hummingbird, ma’am.”

"Oh god, don't call me that around him." This, in particular, is an incredibly stern warning. At this point you're just grateful that the Secret Service use your callsign quietly enough that they're not overheard when they say it. "I'll die of embarrassment."

“I won’t.” She promises, aware that you aren’t quite ready to address that particular issue.

“I just don’t even want to think about that.” You don’t want to, but you have been. Rather constantly, which is a growing issue.

“Let’s just get you through the State dinner and your birthday.” Syd suggests. “Then you can let that big brain of yours work overtime on non-issues.”

Throwing Sydney a look of dismay over the last of your coffee, you pout animatedly. “I debated terms of my birthday with my mother at the last dinner.”

“And?” Sydney almost laughs at your look and turns away to start rummaging through your fridge for the ingredients for the soup. “What was negotiated?”

“Cocktail. High end pub, finger foods and a DJ.” You shake your head and huff a sigh. “I said I should just go to a ball game, but that was unacceptable.”

“It’s hard to run security for the president at a stadium.” She reminds you. “And your mom would want to be there.”

“I just…” Looking back at Sydney, you cross your arms and shrug. “I don’t think I have all that much to celebrate this year, I guess.”

“You have a lot to celebrate.” Your friend will always hype you up and she does so now. “You have your health, a successful business with your best friend.” She cheeses playfully at you. “Your mother is the president of the United States and….” She shrugs. “You’ve hit your dirty thirties. We have to celebrate.”

“I can’t exactly have dirty thirties when my mother is the president.” You throw your arms around her again and squeeze her shoulders, grateful for every second you have Sydney by your side. You’ve been each other’s ride or die since first grade and that will never change. “And you’re pregnant, so you already got dirty.”

“I did.” She snorts with a wicked grin. “And I enjoyed every second of it, too.”

“Perv.” You really can’t help but tease her, but it’s purely out of affection. “It’s just because you’ve got your super sexy soulmate. The Triple S is undeniable.”

“He is sexy.” She can’t deny that, grinning wickedly as she rubs her stomach. “And getting sexier. Did I tell you he’s starting to get sympathy cravings? Dad bod mode is close.”

“Your wildest dreams are all about to come true.” The two of you giggle together as you start to pull ingredients out of the fridge, getting started on cooking that batch of soup.

“So, do you feel better now?” Sydney asks, organizing the vegetables and opening the drawer for the carrot peeler. She had helped you set up the kitchen to her specifications so she could easily find what she wanted when she cooked here.

“A little.” It’s relief more than anything, as you start to peel fresh ginger. It’s the secret ingredient to your best ever chicken noodle soup. “And then I feel guilty for it, which is fucked up. Like I think Marcus might actually enjoy himself on Saturday just for the bragging rights and then I immediately feel bad for thinking that.”

“Why do you feel bad?” She cocks her head as she peels the outer layer off the crisp, orange carrots. “I think most people will enjoy themselves just for bragging rights, it’s brag worthy.”

“Promise you won’t judge me and promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even Juan.” Holding your pinky finger out to her is the most solemn promise you can possibly as of your friend, and neither one of you has ever refused it.

“Of course.” Juan knows everything you are comfortable with, but she would never betray your trust like that. She hooks her finger around yours and looks at you for an explanation.

“I…” Glancing around, you see that Agent Bailey has dutifully slipped out of earshot and is sitting on your couch with a crossword book firmly in hand. “I feel guilty because now that it’s set…I can’t help wishing it was a date,” you admit quietly, hanging your head turn.

“It kind of is a date.” Syd admits, looking at you with a sense of regret for teasing you. “A platonic on, but a date nonetheless.” She hums. “Just like you and I have dates. Friend dates.”

“That…regrettably…is not what I mean.” The best you can really do is shrug your shoulders in defeat. “Friend dates are awesome and I will take you on dates for the rest of our lives. But I—I wish this was different than that. And it sucks.”

“You can’t help attraction.” She argues softly, knowing that you will still feel guilty. You are very stern about cheating, and this is veering into emotional territory for you. “He might not- it should just be about the dinner.”

“I know.” Peel ginger. Grate ginger. Try not to think too hard about what Marcus will look like in a tux. “I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “I shouldn’t have pushed.” She feels guilty, especially now that she knows how you are feeling about this.

“How could you have known? I’ve kept this as firmly to myself as I possibly could.” And keeping things from Sydney is the most impossible task in the world for you. “Besides. He was the right choice.”

“Still doesn’t make me any less sorry.” She huffs, washing the carrots and bringing them over to the chopping board. “I don’t want you to be stressed, I want you to be happy.”

“I’m going to be stressed until I make a decision about what to do.” Once the ginger is done you move on to washing and slicing celery. “And I don’t know how to make that decision.”

Sydney sighs heavily. “I hate that for you.” She admits softly. “If you need to talk, you let me know.”

“What does Juanito think I should do?” You know her well enough to know that she’s talked to her husband — her own soulmate — about this at least a little.

“Juan thinks that you should be happy.” She hums softly. “Whatever that entails. As long as you are fair to everyone.”

"No groundbreaking advice?" If you're honest with yourself, you were kind of hoping for it. Instead, you're definitely floundering.

Sydney stops chopping and points the tip of the knife at you. “You know what he would say, Birdie.”

Ugh. That's true. You do. Juan is unfalteringly trustworthy like that. "That I have to talk to both of them..."

“Even if Marcus isn’t your soulmate, you are attracted to him, and it’s worth seeing if he might be the one you want to be with.” She shrugs, knowing that it’s easy to give advice when she’s found her soulmate and is blissfully happy. “Or it might just say that Sam isn’t the one.”

"Have you noticed a pattern?" Even as you're making the soup, going through effort and putting care into a dish to comfort and heal, a pattern is becoming as obvious as daybreak.

“I have.” She nods and looks back up at you. “Have you noticed that pattern? Or have you just been ignoring it?”

"I think..." A heavy sigh escapes you as you deposit the clean, diced celery in a bowl. "I might have been ignoring it."

“It’s okay to admit that a relationship has run its course.” She reminds you. “Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be.”

"It's just...no version of this conversation we've had in the last few weeks has ended with the conclusion that I should stay with Sam. And that...that is not how I ever expected things to go. He's such a sweet guy and we've had such a good time." Just as unexpected as this conclusion is the tear that rolls down your cheek, and you brush it away immediately. "It's shitty to break up with someone while they're sick, right?"

“I think you owe him a face to face explanation.” She doesn’t tell you that it’s wrong, if that’s what you want to do. She’ll support whatever you want.

"Shit," you groan, reaching next for an onion. Sydney has trained you to be a dutiful sous chef for so long that now you just do her prep work without thinking. "This is going to suck, isn't it?"

“It doesn’t have to.” She counters. “You said Sam’s reaction was….surprisingly hostile. Maybe he’s had some doubts about the relationship too.”

"If he was hostile about the fact that I was standing my ground, he's either going to be hostile about being broken up with, or just completely silent." Sam doesn't take rejection well, you've seen it in a more professional setting but it will certainly apply here.

“Was he hostile?” She asks seriously. “Or were you both in unknown territory and stubbornly waiting for the other to give in?”

Groaning animatedly, you bump Sydney with your hip at the counter and shake your head. "Sometimes I truly dislike how well you know me. I'm just saying that out loud for the record."

“You know you love me.” She snorted and blows a raspberry at you playfully.

"I do love you." But it garners another groan from you all the same. "This was so much easier when we were kids and our life plan was to live in a castle until we were old enough for a nursing home, and then to be the super weird old ladies on the front porch of the home cursing at people as they walked by."

“We are still on for that.” She jokes, motioning to the apartment. “We are in our castle right now.”

"Technically we can go to an American castle any time we want," you point out. "It comes with the price of visiting my family, but the White House does count as a castle."

“Yes it does.” She agrees, proud to know the first family so well. “But I like our castle better.”

"I love this place." From the first day you set foot inside the inn, you have absolutely adored both working here and even running the place. Living in the caretaker's apartment has been comforting. Like a warm hug on a cold day. "And I love that we get to share it."

“There is no one I would rather do this with.” She tells you honestly, so excited to be able to live out the vague dreams of college now as adults.

"You're gonna make me teary again," you complain, fully teasing her but definitely feeling a little emotional about the whole situation.

“I thought it was my job to be the emotional mess.” Sydney sniffles and moves to wrap her arms around you and squeeze tight.

“Sympathy mood swings.” That makes both of you laugh, there at the counter. “Is that a thing?”

“Why not?” She asks, laughing herself at her husband and best friend having sympathy symptoms of her pregnancy.

“It is now, I guess.” You keep working through the soup prep side by side, getting everything ready in unison. “The thing is…” you hum after you’ve both stopped laughing. “I do care about Sam. And I want him to be happy. I just…don’t think I’m going to be the one to give him the future he wants. Which sucks to realize.”

“It’s better that you realize it now.” She rationalizes. “Less heartache and it’s not like you’re married with kids.”

“And we haven’t started moving in.” That’s an unexpected relief, and the realization that it was moving in together that kicked at your doubt is something you’ll have to grapple with later. “I probably only have a couple of things at his place and the only thing I’ve got of his here is a book I borrowed.”

“And….” She sighs. “Let’s face it, Sam wasn’t happy with you spending all your time at the inn.” She voices. “He rarely wanted to come here, even though he’s the one that can more easily travel.”

“Have you been holding back on me, Badillo?” You raise an eyebrow at her as she works on the chicken. “Hiding the things about Sam that have been bothering you?”

“No.” You don’t seem very surprised. “Just observations that I have made, but I wasn’t sure how you would take them.” She explains. “You were very proud of your relationship with Sam and I didn’t want to influence you unduly.”

"I was." And you can acknowledge that firmly, knowing that the relationship you forged with Sam was based on respect and mutual affection. It does feel like failure to see it ending, but at least you tried. Failure is just a means for new growth, as your mother has always told you.

“I know you look at this as a failure.” She’s known you way too long to think otherwise. “But this was a year long relationship that at the end of the day- you weren’t on the same page.”

“I think it would feel very different if I wasn’t sure it was going to end up talked about in every gossip column from sea to shining sea.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, knowing — and hating — how true it is. Junie isn’t dating and Alex isn’t dating publicly, so all eyes are on you. Especially if you break up with a Congressman.

“Don’t let it bother you.” She urges you. “It’s not like they can say anything bad.”

“Tell that to Princess Diana.” You huff, shaking your head and rolling your shoulders to try to straighten out your head a little. “Okay. New topic. Baby name? I’m dying to know what you guys picked.”

She smiles, rubbing her stomach in that universally happy way all expectant mothers do. “Constance Maria Badillo.” She lights up as she tells you the name they had finally decided on last night.

“Oh, honey.” There’s a measure of delight in your giggle when you light up, finding out those two essential pieces of information all at once. Sydney and Juan had been keeping both under wraps. “It’s a girl? Really?”

“We just found out.” She admits, grinning like a maniac. “Of course, baby Badillo could have just been shy but they are pretty positive she’s a girl.”

"You must be thrilled." Of course Sydney would be happy no matter what the gender as long as the baby is healthy, but you know she's always dreamed about having her little girl.

“Over the moon.” Agreeing happily, she turns back to the chicken. “And Juan and I have talked about it.” It’s a casual beginning. “We want you to be her Godmother, as well as Auntie Birdie.”

"Syd." Your knife gets put down immediately and you turn to her with a look of complete awe on your face. "Are you sure? You don't want to ask your sister? I mean I am honored and one thousand percent here for it."

“No.” She shakes her head and her own tools are set down so she can address this properly. “There is no one that we want more than you.” She explains. “You will always be my choice for godparent.”

"I know I've said it before in our lives, but I am here for anything you need." It's not just for Syd, and you lean down and hum a happy hello to your goddaughter that's growing like crazy. "That goes for you too, kiddo. Hear me? Auntie Birdie's got your back. And your front. And all the other bits of you forever."

“You are going to be her favorite.” Sydney sniffles, her hormones making her cry happy tears. “The one she confides in when she can’t bear to tell me or Juan and I love you for that.”

“I hope so.” Wrapping your best friend up in a hug is exactly what this moment needs, and the sound of two women sniffling takes over your kitchen for just long enough to make both of you break out into giggles. “She’s going to get the best of me and I’m going to tell her about all the stupid bullshit we got into as teenagers.”

“Oh god, you better not.” Sydney groans, rolling her eyes. “Nothing she can throw back in my face when she’s angsty and argumentative.”

“Nothing that will put you in Mom Jail,” you tease with a wink. “Promise.”

“Thank goodness.” She snorts. “This one is already gonna have her daddy wrapped around her finger, so I’m gonna have to be the bad cop.”

“It will go back and forth. One day she’ll do something that makes Juan crazy and you’ll be the arms that she runs to.” It happened in your own house more than once, there’s no reason it won’t happen in hers, too. “It will all turn out. She’s going to have the best parents in the world.”

“I hope so.” She shrugs slightly, aware that they will make mistakes, but hopefully it won’t be too bad to make their daughter hate them.

“You have love,” you remind her with a gentle smile. “Have a little faith, too. If nothing else, we all believe in you. All your friends and your family know you’re going to be great.”

“We will have our little village for Constance.” She agrees. “So when we mess up, we can learn.”

“For Baby Badillo number two,” you tease, beaming at her.

“Juan is already asking how many more I want.” Sydney snort, huffing slightly even if she’s grinning. “Told him that he needed to let me birth this one first before we decided that.”

“One at a time is probably best. For your body and your sanity.” Although, you do raise an eyebrow at her. “Twins don’t run in your family, right?”

“Not that I know of, but Juan thinks some cousins might have twins.” She winces and shakes her head with a laugh. “I’ll kill him.”

"Fingers crossed that you only have to grow one baby at a time." With everything prepped, you move to the sink to wash your knives and fetch your best stock pot from the cabinets. "But I will spoil the hell out of all of them, no matter what."

“I know you will.” She knows what despite your already busy schedule, you will always make time for those that matter most to you. Which is why it’s so telling her that you and Sam have been spending less and less time together over the last few months.

“So…” Flashing Sydney a grin as she starts to cook, you move back to the refrigerator to put things away and to get fresh drinks for both of you. “Two questions, then. First: Have you picked a godfather? And two, if I’m her go mother does that mean I get to throw your baby shower?”

"I'm letting Juan pick out the godfather." She admits, shrugging slightly. "I don't- he's got some ideas, but he hasn't made a final decision yet."

“Most of his friends are fathers already, aren’t they?” The Guy friends that Juan had made in the DC area since moving east after meeting Sydney are all responsible men around his age and most of them have families of their own. It’s a small group, it they’re tight knit.

"Yeah....except that, now, Juan has started thinking that he wants someone that is...." She rolls her eyes, "trained." She huffs and moves over to wash her hands again. "You know how involved he was with beefing up security here, he wants a protector for our little girl in case something happens to us."

“Well…that’s not unreasonable, right?” Spying a can of croissant dough — a cheat you’re very fond of — in your fridge, you grab it and decide to fill them with Nutella and berries for a little dessert pastry. “I mean he’s got friends who are trained. Be able to pick someone.”

"I know." She sighs and turns back to you. "I just hate that he's so practical about it." She admits, biting her lip again. "I don't want to think about us not being here to protect her."

“Then try to think of it like he’s choosing someone who can help her learn to protect herself,” you offer instead. As she grows up and faces new things — whatever those things are — her godfather will have been there to teach her self-confidence and safety in equal measure.”

There's a moment where Sydney thinks about what you said and how it applies to the situation before she huffs out a slightly annoyed, mostly amused laugh. "How do you do that?" She grumbles. "I was ready to be in a tearful pout about that you have to go make it perfectly acceptable." There's no heat to her words and she flashes you a grateful smile. "Thanks."

“We’ve been friends for twenty-five years, Sydney Rose.” The grin you flash back at her in unapologetic. “If I don’t know how to talk you out of a panic by now, I’m more clueless than I thought.”

Pursing her lips at you, she doesn't try to deny it. Instead, she turns to rummage in your spice cabinet. "Do you have that turmeric I left up here last time?"

“It’s behind the huge mason jar of chili seasoning.” You tell her without looking up from your dough-chocolate-and-berry project. “Indian spices are in the back because I fucked up the last time I tried to make curry from scratch and they were taunting me.”

“Poor thing.” Sydney sympathizes and shrugs. “We just need to realize they put something extra in their recipes they won’t tell us.” She hums, talking about your favorite curry from your favorite restaurant that you had cancelled on Marcus going to.

"Some kind of magic that I can't wrap my brain around." There were strawberries in your fridge that you're now set on cleaning and trimming. A crescent roll filled with a dollop of Nutella and a whole strawberry is a thing of beauty. "I should just eat their take out every week for the rest of my life instead of trying to make it."

She smirks at you but doesn’t remind you that you would have had some the other day. It would be too cruel. “How about we order some Sunday?” She suggests. “Decompress from the State dinner?”

“That sounds amazing.” The gratitude you have and have always had for her friendship truly is never ending. “You can tell me all about dinner with your folks and we can get chaotic with each other over curry and Scrabble?”

“Sounds like we are party-ing.”She teases, although she loves it. Low key nights are her favorite.

“And all the sparkling apple cider we can stand.” If she’s going to tease you, you’re going to tease her right back. “By the way, I asked Mom to make sure my birthday has a mocktail so you don’t miss out on the fun.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” She beams at being included and tilts her head. “So how was the family dinner, besides the avoidance of Sam talk?”

“Alex is bringing David to the State dinner. Under wraps, of course.” Syd has known your family so long that she knows every inch of your siblings’ lives as well, just like you know hers. “Junie is learning to negotiate to be able to go to parties, so I know I’ve done my job as her big sister right.

“Your brother should be able to take any fucking body he wants to the State dinner.” She rolls her eyes and huffs, offended on behalf of your younger brother. “If foreign dignitaries don’t like it, fuck ‘em.”

"He can. It's not like the Spanish royals have a 'no gays' policy or something, and gay marriage obviously isn't the issue. It's that he doesn't want to become the center of an unnecessary debate. He is who he is, and I'm so proud of him for making his choices." Glancing over at her, you shrug slightly. "That being said? I get not wanting to be thrown into the spotlight for who you love."

“Of course you do.” It’s kind of a double-edged sword in her opinion, the political spotlight. You could be a darling of the media one day and the scapegoat the next, just depending on how the mercurial whim of the people shifted.

"It's one thing that Sam didn't seem to mind, and I was grateful for that." In no way are you going to start bad mouthing the man just because you've reached the finish line of your relationship. That's not the kind of person you are.

“I know, but I also know that dating a presidential candidate’s daughter during an election isn’t exactly bad press for a politician.” She holds up a hand. “I’m not saying that’s why he dated you, I’m not speaking ill, I’m just stating facts.”

"If he actually wants to be President, he needs to get used to having the Secret Service being around real fast." You snort, shaking your head and knowing that it really has been one thing bothering him pretty constantly. "He hates feeling like his privacy is being invaded."

“It might be because he’s not in control of the detail.” She guesses. “You have the final say on the detail and where they are.”

"Either way, I don't think he'll miss having an agent in his living room." There are plenty of strawberries, so you offer one to Syd and pop a small one in your mouth to savor. "Maybe I just won’t date during my mom’s administration. Maybe that’s the solution.”

“You like having a partner though.” She argues. “And you shouldn’t give up dating because of who your mother is.”

"It might just be less complicated." It's not what you want but it would certainly save you some heartache. "What's the worst that happens? I'm single for the next eight years?"

“Already counting on that re-election?” She teases, bumping your hip playfully.

You huff, swallowing a half-laugh, and bump her back. "More like pondering my worst case scenario."

“Whatever happens, we will be with you.” She promises with a grin.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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holymountdias · 11 months

Text

Love Triangle pt.3

Erling Haaland x (fem) reader x Jadon Sancho

Summary: A past relationship of yours broke you to the point that you weren't being yourself anymore, but what happens when your ex's best friend takes interest in you and he helps you take revenge ? Will it all just be a game for you or become more than friends ?

Word count: 5k

Notes: smut, angst, fluff

PARTS: 1.0 2.0 3.0

The fun at the party is simply getting better and better. Since your little body shots game with Jadon, he hasn't left your side much; only when he needed to deal with some party issues, and then he immediately returned to you. What you've seen is that he likes to keep you near and touch you, as if he's scared you'll be snatched at any minute. He generally has at least one of his arms wrapped around you or attempts to pull your face close, tormenting you by pretending to kiss you but then turning towards your ear to say something to you. At that moment, you don't care what he's saying since your pulse is racing from all the excitement and you're too buzzed to pay attention. It becomes worse when he gently massages your waist or the top of your thigh while you sit on his lap.

You're not used to it. Receiving this type of attention from someone in public is something you've always desired but never received. Who would have guessed that the person who would provide you that opportunity would be someone like Jadon?

If you were sober enough to consider how you both acted towards one other, drawing all eyes in the room to you, you don't know if you'd be able to live with it and all the implications. But you don't care right now; it's the first time in a long time, but you're having true fun and may have even caught a superb player for yourself. Most importantly, someone who is not afraid of the attraction between you, which helps you feel more confident in your decision.

Nonetheless, one thing you despise is how you find yourself occasionally glancing towards Erling, which only adds to your confusion and frustration. You understand that the purpose of your actions is to make him jealous and to prove something to him, but is that all? Is it only payback on your mind, or could it be something more...No way are you going to slip into this emotional labyrinth. You're done, no fuck this, you WERE done the moment you ended things with him, and you're not going to allow whatever remains of that fake shit destroy your enjoyable time.

His glares continue to burn holes in you and Jadon, as if he is ready to attack the both of you, especially Jadon since he is the one who is getting all touchy with you. You sneaked glances whenever you made sure his attention was diverted to his circle of friends so he wouldn't see you since you definitely didn't want to give him that gratification. His body language appears hostile as he is drinking and bringing his glass down on the counter with force, which honestly shocks you given how many times he has broken it.

You're not concerned about his act, since you know from firsthand experience that he hasn't previously and will never be open about his emotions for you in a room full of people from his social circle. He can act as disturbed as he wants, but you already know the reality. Finally, you decided not to waste any more time on him and instead focus on the birthday boy, who is currently conversing with Marcus and some other footballers. His arms are holding you from behind, and your back is resting comfortably on his chest.

Your head snaps as you hear your favourite music begin to play.

"Would anyone like to go dancing?" Jadon's low voice pierces your ear, and you smile at his excellent assessment. You spin around to face him, your heart pounding with excitement.

"Is that an invitation?"

"only if it's with you," his statement causes you to bite your lower lip to keep from smiling too much before taking his hand in yours to steer deeper into the swarm of bodies dancing.

As soon as you find your place on the dance floor, his hands move to your hips, carefully stroking them, just to be dragged into his front. You close your eyes and move to the beats of the song, as well as the delicate yet seductive touches of the man behind you. While grinding your ass against Jadon’s crotch, your hands swim along your body, feeling yourself. The act instantly prompts him to tighten his grasp on you while his face leans lower next to yours.

"You know you're killing me, right?" you smirk with satisfaction. You can feel how your movements influence his lower body, and you can't pretend that it's one-sided as Jadon alone can determine how wet you are by rubbing his fingers against your underwear. Both of you are turned on, and you are about to abandon everything to bring him back to your place and fuck him. God was the only one who knew how badly you want that.

Everyone reacts when all of the lights are gradually turned off and the music stops. A second later, a separate set of lights is turned on, providing a wonderful warm atmosphere within the club, while a group of people bearing a large cake with many candles on it appears to be approaching towards you and Jadon.

Obviously, you attempt to move away from Jadon to give him room while singing the birthday song with everyone else, but he refuses to let go. Instead, he throws his arm around your waist and keeps you with him the entire time. Shocked and flustered are among the least things you'd describe yourself as feeling at the time, yet in order to avoid further attention, you maintain your cheerful expression and smile.

Everyone, including you, cheers and applauds as the candles are blown out, but you are stunned once again by Jadon pressing you up against him just to kiss you on the cheek in front of everyone, all eyes on you. Your eyes widen as a result of his rapid behavior, and you can feel your face heating up as a result of all the shyness that consumes you.

The music is finally turned back on, and everyone dissipates to resume their former activities. You refuse to raise your gaze, knowing full well that there are still eyes on you, especially after Jadon's display of affection for you. You notice his face leaning above your shoulder and tilt your head to meet it.

"Do you want to know what I wished for?" he asks, maintaining his hand on your jawline and staying a close distance from your face.

You completely spin around to face his front whilst keeping eye contact and encircling your arms behind his neck.

"You do realize it's not going to happen if you say it, right?" You notice him smirking at your response and raising his hand to cup your face.

"Hmm...I don't know, I think my chances are pretty good," his playful comment makes you giggle, and you decide to play along.

"How are you so sure about it?" you question back bluntly, noting how his gaze darkens.

"Because I have been feeling you all night, baby, and I know you like it, don't you?" You fail to trust your own words after this, knowing full well that you will moan. Then he gently moves his face near to your ear as his hands compel your bodies to meet entirely.

"Come on, say it, baby girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good, you only need to say the word.” His statements are meant only to turn you on more. Your mind immediately fills with sensual thoughts, and your eyes close as his breath brushes against your skin.

One of your hands tries to slide down his chest, almost desperate to feel more of him, but you know it's not enough, and all you need to tell him is that for him to give you the release you are looking for. Something within you, though, makes you hesitate to respond positively, which bothers you terribly. You are obviously drawn to him, Jadon is definitely attracted to you, and he has clearly offered you a good time, so what's the problem?

“fuck Jadon i-”

You feel something liquid soak your shoulder down to the edge of your dress as you are abruptly shoved from the side. You let out a frantic gasp, taken off guard, as Jadon's grasp tightened on your hips to keep you from losing balance. You both turn your heads to greet the guy who interrupted you and destroyed your outfit, and you can't help but laugh at the irony.

It is the girl from the restroom who vented about Erling ghosting her, but she of course wasn't alone.

"Erlinggg, be careful, I just spilled my drink" her unpleasant whiny tone just makes you want to slap her even more after the incident.

"Yeah on fucking me," you speak with obvious rage in your voice as you stare at the both of them.

"Oops," she says cheerfully and without remorse. Erling is simply standing there with a tiny smile on his face, and that was just the icing on the cake for you.

"Halaand, make sure you teach your mop how to wet the floor, or better throw it away; I'm sure you have plenty of others to replace it with." You snap at him, forcing him and the girl to narrow their eyes. The girl is about to answer, but you don't give her time as you glance at Jadon and murmur a brief "I will be back" before heading out the bathroom.

When you enter the room, you are happy to see that no one is present since you would be humiliated to have to clean yourself in front of others. You quickly begin to repair yourself using water from one of the sinks and plenty of toilet paper.

You are furious with Erling; you believe he did it on purpose, which irritates you. He has no right to try to interject himself or ruin your enjoyment because he is envious or anything. On the one hand, you're pleased of making him feel that way, and it's one of the reasons you landed up at the party in the first place, but pulling jealousy acts like that on you after what he's done was outrageous. You are aware of his jealously tendencies, but you never expected him to be so petty.

Why bother caring in the first place when he was the one who ruined all you two had?

At the end of the day, you don't want to think about what’s her name either, since you've been very familiar with those girls and their nasty attitude due to your brother's environment, and you've had no problem standing up against them whenever the circumstances called for it. But, my God, the fact that she's involved with Erling irritates you and makes you low key envious, but you're not going to admit it to yourself.

You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn't see the person entering the bathroom or the click of the door locking.

"What do you think you're doing with Jadon?" Erling appears beside you, and you place your palms over your heart, taken off guard.

"Oh my God, what the hell are you doing here, it's the women's bathroom!" you shout quietly to avoid being heard outside the room.

"I fucking locked the door, no one will bother, answer the damn question."

He argues back, forcing you to narrow your eyes at him.

"What is it to you that I do with Jadon?"

"Because you're using him to get revenge on me." He has the audacity to call you out.

"Would you like to talk about revenge? How about that stunt you pulled with the bimbo?" You battled back, becoming increasingly irritated by his behaviour. He doesn't say anything else or try to make excuses for what happened; he knows you can see straight through him. In annoyance, he lets out a deep sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"I have every right to know if it involves my ex and best friend," he says, raising his eyes once again.

"Oh, so I'm your ex now? I thought you mentioned me to your buddies as one of your one-night stands?" While folding your arms across your chest, you raise an eyebrow in questioning.

"We both agreed not to make it public, and you are aware of that."

"Then I'm sure you know that being in a relationship with someone doesn't involve any third parties, but you didn't seem to have an issue skipping over that part, did you?"

"I made a mistake and-"

"It sounded like more than a mistake," you say, and he appears to have become even more upset as it turned out. After he sighed, the tension went up drastically.

“Do you want to know the truth? Fine. It was only one time, and I understand I have no excuses, but all the guys were trying to link me up with girls because they were suspicious of the fact that I didn't want to do anything with any other girl. We got really drunk one night, and they ended up matching me with a random woman from the bar we ended up at once. We didn’t go all the way though as soon as i realized that it’s not you i pushed her away. I felt awful about it right away since I really wanted to be serious with you. Whatever ridiculous things I'd say to the boys were solely to cover us up." he adds as he walks closer to you, causing you to take steps back to maintain the gap; however you eventually hit the wall behind you, leaving your efforts useless.

"Is that supposed to make things better? because it doesn't, and it simply points to whatever we had ended because of you, so don't come interrogating me about what I'm doing with Jadon." Hearing his remarks makes you almost tear up. It's one thing to learn about it through his discussions with others, and quite another to hear him admit it to you. It's as if you went back in time and are now reliving the night you discovered the truth. He has now trapped you against the wall, with both arms on either side of you.

"Yes, I will because you are still important to me." His voice rises with intensity as he says it, looking deep into your eyes before shifting his sight lower to your lips for a second.

"I didn't want our relationship to end, but when it did, I tried to get over it and couldn't. Every time I had, I'd sleep with a new woman to convince myself that in the end, you meant nothing, but it's not fucking true, and I can't accept seeing you get all cozy with anyone else if it's not me."

"I like Jadon"

All of a sudden one arm wraps around your waist, while the other grasps your face, smashing your lips together. Your breath is instantly caught in your throat, and your eyes widen in surprise; you try to stop him by pushing your hands against his hard chest, but he is stronger than you as he deepens the kiss forcing you to finally give into it and kiss him back. While you lock your arms around his neck, he lets his hands wander down to your hips and legs before effortlessly pulling you up and bringing you onto the bathroom counter.

His lips are so smooth on yours and his his lips feel so amazing on yours, and his way of kissing you leaves you breathless as he moves his tongue with such dominance. You missed this...you missed him.

The feeling of his body pressing against you again gives you an unexplainable sense of relief and your heart pounds in your chest. Your fingers dance in his knotted hair, and your legs hang open from the counter with him standing in between them. His hands are teasing you by caressing your nude thighs and slowly approaching your center. Your body instinctively responds by providing him extra space with your legs, allowing him to have a better peek under your dress.

"Who is this for, baby; who made you so wet?"

He lets out a satisfied groan as he runs his fingers over your drenched thong, feeling how wet it is. You hesitate to respond, knowing it will only create problems, but your chin gets caught before you realize it, urging your closed eyes to meet his passionate stare.

"I asked you a question," his tone conveys control, and you immediately respond.

"Jadon," his brow furrows in displeasure but gradually transforms into an evil sneer.

"Let's change that," his lips sink down your neck, sucking and kissing all your sensitive parts, prompting you to groan and your hands to tighten around him. Your legs tremble with excitement for what is about to come.

Suddenly, he takes your arms and tugs them behind your back. "Keep them there," he warns you gently but the rough tone of his voice prickling at your ear, causes your breathing to become heavy. One of his hands moves beneath your dress, between your spread legs, towards your wet clothed center once more. His fingers pull down the top of your thong, while the other taps your ass twice, urging you to lift your hips.

Then you feel the little piece of clothes sliding down your legs while your dress rises to rest about your waist. The coldness of the surface underneath you causes goosebumps all over your body. It makes you clench around nothing alongside turning you on even more. While his fingers slowly rubbed on your wet clit, your lower half arches towards his muscular torso, desperate to feel more.

"Please," you plead him softly as you open your eyes to completely gaze at him. You honestly don't know what exactly you're pleading for. Maybe it's his fingers, his tongue, or perhaps, his big thick cock that always helped you reach a new level of high, or maybe it's everything that includes him on you while his words scream for you to fantasize and feel more of him.You want him and you know you're going to blame yourself later for it, but you don't care right now. Your body is hungry enough to disregard all rationality in your head.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he says calmly. Your head bends backwards to rest on the mirror behind you as you feel the influence of his fingers on your core, giving him a greater view of your body. Your words trails off as one of his fingers pushes inside you; his free hand now glides from your thigh to your waist, forcing your dress to rise even higher. His chest rumbles and he lets out an animalistic howl as he sees more of your nakedness.

"Fuck, tell me what you want, baby" His voice is deeper than before, which drives you crazy even more as he slips two more fingers into your tightened walls. You're struggling to keep your hands where he wants them right now because all you want to do is touch him, run your hands across his chest, and feel all of him against you.

As your hands try to grasp the surface behind you, you mutter his name. "I want to touch you," you reply. He just smirks at you before leaning closer until his face is only a few inches away from yours; his curious hand has now switched over to grip your hands, ensuring you stay place.

"Do you think you deserve it, hmm?" he asks, cupping your jaw and dragging your gaze to his.

"Have you been a good little girl?" You can only nod eagerly in answer.

You can only nod eagerly in answer, hoping that this would be enough to convince him.

"Nah baby, I don't think you were," he says smugly, since he loved to punish you in any way he could, but you whimpered in protest. You're wet down there, and the sound of your wetness being pushed by his long fingers makes you feel filthy, but you love it, and he does as well. His secret addiction is the way your body reacts and responds to his hands. His fingers slide back up to your clit and softly circle it, causing you to move your hips into him.

There were plenty of times when he would think about you to get himself off, or even if he wasn't alone, his mind would return to memories of you, how beautiful you looked under him and how perfectly you took him in every way you both desired. You're grinding faster and harder, a pout forming on your face as you feel yourself approaching your climax. "Fuck, Erling yes, yes"

“Come for me baby” his mouth dips to your ear to murmur, and your body quickly obeys his words on its own. You exhale a gasp as you reach your climax, your eyes rolling in the back, and one of your hands quickly moves to grasp his muscular arm.

You can still feel his fingers rubbing over your clit, which only creates little jerks to your body as you become overstimulated. Your silky walls continue to throb from your high, still in need of being filled. Your awareness returns to reality as you listen to his strong breathing next to you and lean against his torso. His head swings between the area where your neck meets your shoulder and begins to trace gentle kisses on your skin; his other hand, which was clutching your arms, is now tenderly caressing your hand.

When you've calmed down, you sift your posture back as he takes a step back to give you some space. You hesitate to look at him, afraid about what is going to happen after this. You start fixing your dress and you hair before you proceed to get off of the counter. Your stability seems to betray you though and you are about to fall down but Erling is fast enough to prevent that. As he holds by you waist he helps you steady yourself while maintaining a careful gaze on you.

You avoid looking him in the eyes once again worrying that you are going to end up crying in his arms and hate yourself even more since reality started hitting you. You are feeling so guilty and so lost at the same time. You didn’t know how to handle the situation but the only thing that keeps ringing in your mind is that you need to leave and fast.

As soon as you are back on your feet you push back his arms and resume to your efforts of making yourself seem somewhat presentable again. Several minutes pass by where you both say nothing; only difference is that he is still observing you and perhaps expecting you to talk to him but you know better than to start something unending. After you have cleaned yourself , you check yourself out once last time and you are glad to see no evidence of his kisses on your skin so you proceed to leave the room but the call of your name stops you on your tracks.

“We need to talk” he says and thats when you finally turn around to look at him. His face is covered by a slight frown, bothered by your avoidance towards him; meanwhile you are angry and frustrated with your behaviour. There were a million of other scenarios about how this night could turn out and you chose the most ridiculous one.

“It was a mistake Erling, there is nothing to talk about. You go back to your side chicks and i go on with my life” you hold a serious expression as you talk to him with determination on your voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by him but you get curious when you hear him chuckling while looking downwards. You raise your brow in question before you ask him what he is laughing for.

“You are never going to forgive me are you?” he asks you back instead and then his frowned gaze meets yours. Your eyes narrow at him, trying to detect any lie in this sad painful expression that he holds and to your surprise you find none; but you are not the one to believe him, not anymore. How is he still bothered over your break up?

You are definitely not over it and you proved that just a few minutes ago but how is he not? Especially since he cheated you would have expected him to have moved on to the next girl. Regardless of him being drunk or not when it happened, it still hurt.

Where you supposed to die with anxiety every time he would go out with his friends, praying that he doesn’t get drunk to the point of being with someone else? You are not willing to go down that road. You had agreed on dating secretly, wanting to be understanding and look where it got you.

You refuse to give him an answer or continue this unending conversation so you turn around to leave once again. You have just unlocked the door when you hear him call your name trying to get your attention back but you ignore him and finally open the door. As you exit the room you walk fast through the people inside the club wanting to get to the main entrance to leave. Your guiltiness is eating you up thinking about Jadon, you decide that you will have to text him about having left since you didn’t have the guts to face him right now.

On your way you hear your name being called from behind but assuming that its Erling, you ignore it and keep on walking. Once you have finally gotten yourself out of the club you feel a cold breeze of fresh air hit you and you exhale loudly, feeling like you can breath again. Wasting no more time you take your phone out to text your friend to come pick you up and thankfully she is quick enough to text you back telling you that she is on her way.

You let out another sigh, your chest feeling heavy from all the build up emotion. You want to cry, scream, anything to get rid of the frustration that is inside you, still in disbelief for what you did. You mind immediately goes back to Jadon and as you are about to text him, you hear your name being called and this time you turn around to face the person. Expecting it to be Erling you are ready to lash out and tell him to leave you alone but you surprised when you see Jadon instead.

“Not even a goodbye?” he teases you as he nears you to stand in front of you. He has he hands dipped inside his pockets as he looks at you with that playful smirk on his face.

“Jadon i-i am sorry, i was about to text you about leaving because something happene-“

“It’s Erling, isn’t it?” he interrupts you and you are immediately shocked by his words. You feel your stomach twist up as you think about him knowing what happened. Did he see you? or worse heard you while being in the bathroom? You are loss of words and after catching your hesitance in your expression he decides to speak up again.

“Look if there is something going on betwe-”

“No there isn’t, i promise, its just complicated” the words rush out of your mouth before you can control them and you are honestly ready to explain everything to him right then and there but you are so overwhelmed that you feel as if you are about to cry. He nods along to your words and you are about to talk again but he stops you.

“I had fun with you tonight and I don’t know what happened between you two in the bathroom but you are obviously upset by him and i-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence since he gets disrupted by a strong voice which catches both of your attention.

“Y/N” you see Erling shouting for you while standing right outside the entrance of the club. As soon as both of your gazes meet his expression softens but quickly switches to a glaring one when he notices Jadon with you. He nears you both and you close your eyes for a minute feeling yourself about to burst out.

"We didn't finish our conversation" He refers to you at first before he glances at Jadon besides him. "And what the fuck is he doing here again? What’s your deal with her huh?" he questions him with a threatening tone while stepping closer to him, enough until their chest almost meet.

Their height difference gives Erling the advantage to tower over him intimidatingly as he is glaring at him. His posture and behavior gives you the hint that he is ready to start a fight, but Jadon doesn’t seem to mind at all as he returns the same angry expression to him, indicating that he is not willing to back out either. The surprise comes when Jadon finally reacts by pushing Erling off of him.

"She isn't fucking yours so how about you leave her alone!" Jadon loudly protests and your eyes widen in shock by his action; knowing that a fight is about to start you move quickly in front of Erling in effort to put stop to it. His glare only looked more hateful after his supposedly best friend's move towards him and he would go up against him if it wasn't for your gentle hands to stop him from acting upon his thoughts.

"Erling you need to leave” you tell him seriously and at first he doesn’t respond nor looks at you but continues to threaten Jadon with his gaze.

When he finally shifts his eyesight to you, you notice how his eyes slightly soften over his frowned expression which instantly makes your heart melt but you refuse to allow any other emotion cross your face at this moment. After he holds eye contact with you for a minute or so he closes his eyes for a second and rubs his face with his hand as he looks anywhere but you.

“I’m not done with you” he tells you seriously after returning his focus back on you and you only nod at him as he finally steps back to leave but not before he gives another threatening look at Jadon.

You slowly turn around face Jadon and your mentally exhaustion already covers your face causing him to frown at you worriedly. He doesn’t get the chance to speak up as a horn behind you is heard and you both turn to look at your best friend inside her car. You give Jadon an apologizing look and quietly mutter to him that you’ve got to go. He nods at you in response and wishes you goodbye as he watches you enter the passenger seat and disappear inside the car.

#football imagines #erling haaland angst #erling haaland smut #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland fic #erling haaland #jadon sancho x reader #jadon sancho fic #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho #jadon sancho fluff

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 8 months

Text

Common Grounds / Chapter 11

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Derrick the Asshole Ex (needs his own warning), case stuff (any inaccuracies about how the FBI works is my own lack of research), two GODDAMN ADORABLE IDIOTS in love, unprotected PIV sex, feelings feelings FEELINGS FEELINGS FEELIGNSGS

Summary: Derrick does his damndest to ruin your night, but it turns out that one asshole can't stand in the way of....... love.

A/N: IDK it's 10:30 and I'm sleepy thanks everyone for encouraging me to finish this goofball of a fic but especially @littlebirdsbookshelf who is the loveliest of humans and beta read *most* of this chapter before I yeeted it out LOL. There will be an epilogue to follow!!! Thank you everyone for reading!

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“This is quite the change for you,” your ex says condescendingly, looking around the gallery with an expression of disdain. “How the hell did you go from shilling your crap online to booking the nicest event space in the area?”

“Derrick, stop—”

“Oh, wait—I think I’ve figured it out,” the man sneers. “I like to do my research on who my ex-fiancée thinks she should fuck. Special Agent Pike, was it? Art Crimes, right? What a coincidence!”

Your heart seems to stop beating. Marcus’s head snaps toward the two of you, his eyes dark and full of warning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell Derrick icily.

“She’s using you, you know,” Derrick continues, looking at your boyfriend with a glint in his eye. “It’s what she does. She can’t make it on her own, so she picks men who will bankroll her little hobby and then leaves them in the dust after she bleeds you dry.”

“That’s not true,” you say through clenched teeth. “You don’t know anything about me. Or him. Or us.”

“Don’t I?” he retorts. “What if I were to, say, make a scene right now? Start yelling that this entire place is swarming with cops? Would that be a problem?”

You panic, eyes shooting to Marcus in horror. It looks as though he’s about to say something, but he pauses, blinking rapidly a few times—listening intently. Shit.

Derrick laughs. “Oh, isn’t that rich? You’re perfect for each other. You’re using him to get a leg up, and he’s using you for his little sting operation.”

Your ex’s volume is getting louder and louder. Heads are starting to turn. You scan the gallery frantically—a large number of waitstaff is starting to converge on the same area off to your right. Marcus looks conflicted. Desperately, his eyes flick between you and Derrick, even as he takes a few halting steps away from you. Maybe Derrick was right—but maybe it’s you who needs to cause a scene. Time seems to slow down; suddenly, everything seems crystal clear. You give Marcus a small, reassuring smile before turning your back on him and starting down your ex.

“You can’t just come here and try to ruin the life I’ve built!” you exclaim, speaking loud enough for the surrounding patrons to hear. As predicted, most people’s attention is now turned to the unfolding drama rather than the quick footsteps of Marcus, surrounded by several waiters, heading toward the back of the gallery.

“It’s over, Derrick! You can try to goad me all you want, but the truth is, I’ve found all I need without you. And you’re wrong—I’m not using him at all. I love him!”

The last words are damn-near shouted. They seem to echo in the crowded gallery.

Marcus stops in his tracks, whirling around on the spot to stare at you, open-mouthed.

“I love him!” you call out, looking right at Marcus as you say it again. “I love him.”

Even from across the room, you can see his lower lip tremble. But then—he turns away, looking as though doing so causes him unimaginable pain.

Attention starts to turn to Marcus, rather than the apparent row between two ex-lovers. Shit. You need to escalate this, and fast.

“Anyway, you couldn’t please a woman if you tried!” you hurl the out-of-the-blue accusation at Derrick, who looks murderous. “Like, even if your dick wasn’t that small, the real problem is that you don’t seem to have any idea how to use it!”

The crowd titters, and you keep going, feeling emboldened.

“Yeah, turns out orgasms are the one thing you can’t buy,” you quip. “Or at least, you can’t. I can buy them just fine—got myself a vibrator the day I walked out and left that awful engagement ring on the counter.”

A large, meaty hand lands on your shoulder, and you startle slightly. Agent Bear, as you’ve begun calling him in your head, who looks rather comical in his waiter’s tuxedo, leans down the foot and a half it takes for him to murmur in your ear.

“That’s enough. C’mon.”

“I—I was trying to—”

“I know exactly what you were trying to do. You did good, kid. Boss wants you out of the building for this next part.”

You let the behemoth of a man escort you through the kitchen and out through the dock entrance, leaving Derrick, sputtering and red-faced, behind you.

“I can’t believe I just yelled about my ex’s dick size at my first art exhibition,” you murmur to yourself as you follow the man toward the surveillance van around the corner.

“As distractions go, it was certainly creative,” the agent offers placatingly.

“What’s going on?” you ask when you reach the SUV. “Is Marcus okay? Is the guy in custody?”

“Everything is going as expected,” the agent tells you, which isn’t the most detailed explanation, and you sigh in frustration.

“So why am I being escorted out of the building?”

“This was always the plan,” he explains. “Marcus didn’t want you anywhere near the op until the building was cleared again, safe or not.”

“Why?”

The large man gives you a funny look. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

He purses his lips thoughtfully, as though trying to find a way to choose his next words carefully. “I haven’t known the boss for that long, mind you, but I know this—he’s stubborn, loyal, and goddamn fucking protective about the people he cares about. And he spared no expense once you agreed to come on board—bought a bunch’a new equipment because he couldn’t run the risk of any blip in communication. Hell, he’s been putting the whole fucking team through dry runs at the venue for the past month and keeping us late at the shooting range to make sure we were all sharp. This whole damn thing has been planned out to the letter, and he made it pretty fucking clear what would happen if a single hair on your head even came close to being harmed. I dunno what your feelings are for the man, but I thought you had to know already—he’s head over heels crazy for you.”

“…Oh.”

“You yelling you loved him across the damn room—that wasn’t part of your little scene-stealing strategy?”

You shake your head solemnly. “Of course not.”

“Good.” The agent nods, his jaw set. “Good. That’s good.”

“What happens to the show?” you ask quietly. “Is it just… over now? Everyone goes home?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you can go back in once the team clears out. Pike didn’t want this to cause too much disruption. Said this was your first exhibition, that right?”

You nod. “Yup.”

“He didn’t want to sell you short. Made sure that the event would be able to continue after all the Feds leave,” the agent says with a wry grin.

“Is it safe?” you ask warily.

“Oh yeah,” he nods. “But I’m your assigned security detail for the rest of the night anyway.”

You huff out a quiet laugh. “Sorry you have to play babysitter to the boss’s girlfriend.”

“Nah, my pleasure. It’s because of you we were able to put this whole thing on in the first place.” He pauses, looking off to the side and nodding imperceptibly. When he speaks again, it’s clear he’s not addressing you anymore. “Copy. I’ll take her back in.” Standing, he holds out one giant palm to help you up. “Your time to shine, kid.”

“Is Marcus okay?” you ask again.

The agent snorts. “‘Course he’s fine. Suspect is under arrest and the team is headed back to HQ to finish up and get the perp booked. Said he’d come back as soon as he could.”

You nod, walking back through the now-empty kitchen. Guess you had to get here early if you wanted snacks, you think with a wry smile. There are fewer patrons milling around now, but that only means you can have longer, more meaningful conversations about your pieces with people who are genuinely interested. Checking your phone for any messages from Marcus, you realize you have hundreds of new notifications on your Instagram page, and a handful of online sales. It really was a success. Staged or not, maybe this exhibition is going to be the break you need.

The gallery finally starts to empty as the hour draws late. Pretty soon, the lights are being turned off and the doors locked—and Marcus still isn’t here.

“I can drive you home,” your security detail suggests. “Pike can meet you there, instead.”

“He said he’d be here,” you say in a small voice.

The man holds up his hands. “Up to you.”

You wait.

And wait.

Finally, you hear quick footsteps echoing in the large hall, and you look up from the not-so-rousing game of Solitaire on your phone—which you insisted on playing, even with your battery at 20%.

Marcus.

You jump to your feet, heart in your throat. Agent Bear mumbles a goodbye and exits out one of the side doors, but you hardly notice. You can only stare at the man at the other side of the room.

He stares back.

Both of you seem to move at the same time. Marcus crosses the gallery in several long strides and you rush forward to meet him. You collide in the middle, lips bruising and hands gripping hard. He crushes your body against his, one hand around your back to press you closer and the other holding your jaw firm as he kisses you—deep and passionate and so full of emotion you feel as though you might burst.

When the heat subsides and the movement of your lips naturally begins to change–slowing, gentling–Marcus’s breath is shaky on your face as he carefully brings both hands up to cradle your cheeks. His eyes bright and shining full of moisture, his thumbs gently trace the curve of your cheekbones.

“I love you, too,” he whispers ardently. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you,” you repeat back. A tear slips down your cheek; Marcus catches it with his thumb.

“I love you,” he says again. “Baby, that might have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do—turn my back on you like that.” “I’m sorry. I just—I couldn’t hold it in anymore, not when Derrick was saying all those awful things. I just needed you to know that none of it was true.”

“Couldn’t hold it in anymore?” Marcus repeats, searching your face with a growing smile.

“ I—I’ve never felt this was about anyone. I can’t help but think it whenever I look at you.”

Marcus brings his mouth to yours in another passionate, electrifying kiss. Your cheeks are damp, and you can’t tell whether the cause is you or him. You’re hardly able to take notice anyway, the way his kiss consumes you. It’s everything; he’s everything, and you love each other, and everything is finally going to be okay.

“I love you,” he whispers again. “You were amazing tonight; I was so proud of you.”

“It went really well,” you say, smiling. “I got more sales than I expected, plus a ton of hits online. And I got to say some really cathartic shit to Derrick as a bonus.”

Marcus chuckles. “Wish I could have seen that.”

“I told basically the entire gallery that he couldn’t please a woman.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiles, fondly, and presses one last kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry I’m so late coming back. Are you ready to go?”

You thread your hands together and nod. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter, just want to be in private as soon as possible.”

Marcus’s eyes darken; his smile turns mischievous. “In that case, my place is closer.”

“That settles it.”

Despite the proximity of Marcus’s apartment, he might have broken at least five traffic laws on the way in his haste to get you alone. You nearly run down the hall to get to his door, and when it bangs open, you’re both reaching for each other with similar fervor.

Your back hits the wall with a soft thunk as Marcus pushes you backward, not so much kissing you as devouring you. Your hands thread into his hair in an attempt to ground yourself, nails scraping against his scalp until he groans brokenly.

“Fuck, I love you,” he rasps. His hands are hasty in their actions–getting access to as much of your skin as possible in as little time–and you both moan together as he roughly pulls your blouse from being tucked neatly into your slacks and his warm palms slide up the bare skin of your sides.

You frantically join him, fingers fumbling at the buckle of his belt and trying to pull his pants down without actually undoing them.

Marcus laughs giddily without breaking the kiss, trying to unbutton them at the same time you’re already shoving them down his hips. He finally manages to kick them off, along with his underwear, with his lips still stubbornly fused to yours. Your pants receive the same treatment, both of you too lost in the moment to be methodical in your actions as fabric is shoved haphazardly out of the way.

When your legs are likewise bare, one leg automatically hooks around Marcus’s hip in an attempt to get him closer, closer, closer, and he obliges enthusiastically–pressing into your core with a soft grunt.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough, you need him in you, and he must feel the same, because with a little growl of frustration, he reaches around to pull your other leg around him as he lifts you off of the floor and presses you up against the wall to finally be able to sheathe himself within you in one fluid motion.

Your head thunks against the wall as you draw a ragged gasp of breath into your lungs. Marcus’s lips automatically attach to your bared neck, his teeth scraping gently against your skin as he starts to frantically pound you into the wall. The sound is obscene–the slap of your bodies, the frantic, blissed-out noises of pleasure you’re both making, and the loud, rhythmic thunk of your bodies as they hit the wall over and over and over…

…You hope, for Marcus’s neighbors’ sake, that this is an outside wall.

He drills into you–deep, impossibly deep and your back arches to meet his thrusts, but each movement causes your spine to rub painfully into the wall, your core is already burning as you try to stay in place, and despite how fucking good he’s fucking you right now, your orgasm remains elusive.

Marcus suddenly lets out a rather undignified noise, his face contorting into discomfort rather than pleasure, and before you know it, the mood has changed and the two of you are laughing yourselves breathless at the awkwardness of the position.

“F-Fuck, my back,” he manages to gasp out in between giggles. You tip your head back as your chest heaves with peals of laughter, and you feel yourself sliding slowly down the wall as Marcus’s strength gives out and the two of you collapse into a still-laughing, undignified heap on his entryway floor.

“Always looks so hot in videos,” you say, voice still wavering with mirth.

“Bit harder in real life,” Marcus chuckles, finding your lips again and giving you several soft, smiling kisses.

“Got a better idea,” you murmur against his lips.

“Bed?”

“Too far,” you argue. “Sit up. I’m gonna–”

Marcus scrambles into a seated position against the wall, and you follow him immediately–climbing onto his lap and sinking down onto his cock with a soft whimper at the stretch of him.

“Baby,” he whispers, soothing the little wrinkle of discomfort on your forehead with his thumb as his eyes flick over your face, cataloging your reactions.

“‘S’okay,” you reassure him breathlessly. “I’m okay.”

When you start to rock your hips, grinding yourself on Marcus’s cock, your mouth falls open with overwhelming pleasure.

“Fucking love you,” you murmur, and he responds by trying to pull you closer even though there hardly seems to be any space between you already.

“Never gonna get tired of hearing you say that,” Marcus says, voice rough with pleasure or emotion–you aren’t sure which.

“I love you,” you tell him again, and his eyes slip closed with what could either be agony or euphoria. And perhaps it’s both, really. You’d understand. The emotion burns so strongly within you that the reality of it almost hurts. Your heart aches with it.

Your movements increase in intensity as you chase the feeling building deep inside you. It’s not simply arousal, and really, it never has been with Marcus. It’s a deep sense of joy, satisfaction, and safety. Maybe you’ve always known it–Marcus is it for you. The realization almost makes you lose track of the moment–you’re not with your body, you’re elsewhere, looking down on the two of you, desperately entwined on the floor not two feet from the front door.

“Wanna feel you come for me,” Marcus murmurs, one hand leaving your hip to rub little circles on your clit. “Baby, please.”

The action causes arousal to surge within you; you feel yourself getting even wetter, and Marcus can feel it too, because he makes a low noise in his throat as he watches you ride him.

“Never gonna get tired of this either,” he rasps. “The way you look when you’re about to come undone–fucking divine. That look you get, like you can’t believe you can feel this good… fuck, the fact that it’s me that makes you look like that–” He cuts off with a broken sound, his grip on your hip bruising as he loses himself in the moment.

“It’s you,” you say shakily, nodding frantically as you chase your release. “Only you. You’re the only one who could ever make me feel like this.”

You don’t just mean the waves of pleasure building within you, and Marcus seems to understand, because his eyebrows turn upward in awe, his lips parting as he gazes up at you with nothing short of reverence.

“Show me,” he says quietly, his lips barely moving. “Let go. Come for me.”

A few more halting, violent rocks of your hips is all it takes before you slump onto Marcus’s chest, unable to hold yourself upright as the feeling sweeps throughout your entire body. He holds you close, taking over the motions and fucking up into you as you convulse with aftershocks. You’re hardly aware of how loud you’re being, crying out and whimpering and sobbing into his shoulder as he fucks you through it, but as you come down, you can hear his soft, lilting voice in your ear.

“So good for me, honey–fuck, you feel so good. Look so beautiful when you come, my pretty girl. So fucking beautiful all the time, I can hardly believe you’re mine.”

You whimper softly and tighten your hold around him as you nod into his shoulder. “I need–” you start, not entirely sure where the sentence was going, but Marcus nods anyway.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He surges forward, gently depositing you on your back on the floor before covering your body with his and fucking into you with abandon.

“F-fuck, mine,” he rasps. “Mine.”

“Yes,” you gasp–each thrust punching the air out of your lungs as Marcus chases his release. “Yes, yes, yes, yes–”

It doesn’t take long before he stills, burying himself deep inside you with a low groan of your name. For a few moments, the only sound is your labored breathing as you both come back to yourselves. Marcus gently touches his forehead to yours, his soft exhales shaky and wavering against your cheeks.

The air is thick with something–emotion, tension, or maybe the opposite: relief. The moment itself feels like an exhale, like your shoulder muscles can start to ease downward. Like if you needed support–or anything–you know there's someone you can depend on.

And he, you.

“...Are you?” Marcus asks–quietly and hesitantly, as though he’s ashamed to say the words out loud. “Are you mine?”

You bring your palm to his cheek and watch his eyelashes flutter at the soft touch.

"Depends… are you mine as well?"

He pulls back, pure sincerity in his gaze as he looks in your eyes.

"I think I was waiting for you this whole time," he intones quietly. "I'm yours. Of course I’m yours. Completely, and unequivocally."

You smile and bring his face back down towards yours for a kiss.

“How’s the back?”

“Hurts.”

“Wanna get off the floor?”

Marcus looks sheepish. “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yeah, oh my God, I need to lie down.”

You giggle–breath hitching in the middle as his softening cock slips from you. With twin smiles, the two of you gingerly get up, grabbing your discarded layers of clothing and heading toward Marcus’s bedroom. He collapses on the bed with a loud sigh and scrubs his hands over his face.

“I think I aged five years during this op,” he grumbles as you plop down beside him.

“I thought everything went according to plan,” you offer, frowning in confusion.

“Oh, it did. I haven’t had any single mission in my career go better, but… Fuck, there’s a reason for that. I’ve been running the whole damn team ragged for a month, doing drills and–”

“–keeping them late at the shooting range?”

Marcus frowns. “How did you know that?”

“My security detail told me about the pains you took to keep me safe. Or rather, how you ‘made it pretty fucking clear what would happen if a single hair on my head even came close to being harmed.’”

“I–I can explain–”

“He said you were ‘head over heels crazy’ for me,” you say, raising one eyebrow coyly.

“Well,” Marcus drops his gaze and grins widely, showing his teeth. “That’s certainly accurate.”

“Why did you ask for my help, if you spent the last month stressed out of your mind?”

He bites his lip as he seemingly gathers his thoughts. “To be completely honest, I said what I said that first time in the moment, without really thinking about it,” he explains. “But once Pandora’s box was opened, so to speak, it was hard to just… put it all away. The more I thought about it, the more it was perfect. Not only does the team get an ideal setup to catch a long-time art thief, but you get an opportunity that precious few artists are ever awarded. I couldn’t… it couldn’t not be you.”

You frown slightly as disparate, confused thoughts swirl around your brain. “I never asked to be a charity case–”

“No,” Marcus interrupts. “Oh, God, no–it was just—Well, we had to ask someone to put on a fake art show, and all things being equal, I wanted it to be you.”

“Why?”

Marcus’s gaze softens. “Because I love you, silly. Head over heels, remember? You’ve given me so much, and I just wanted to give you this.”

Your breath hitches at the devotion in his words. His eyes are so full of love, you don’t even know what to say. In the past, you’ve been so used to “gifts” being double-sided and deceitful. You don’t know what to do with Marcus, who simply… gives you things. Because he wants to.

“Thank you,” you finally whisper.

He smiles slowly, eyes brimming with emotion. “I was so proud of you. You know that, right? Every time I would turn and look at you, I just–” he cuts off, shaking his head and looking down. “Baby, I was in awe of you. I just need you to know that.”

“I know that.”

You risk a glance at the clock, and wince.

“Oh, my God. It’s two am.”

Marcus grimaces. “Guess we get to sleep in tomorrow.”

“I’ve got an opening shift.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Of course you do,” he groans.

“I’ll be quiet,” you promise.

“Don’t you dare. I’ll get up and make you coffee.”

“You… you don’t have to do that,” you tell him hesitantly.

“I want to,” Marcus corrects. “I’m here with you. We’re doing this–everything–together, right?”

You reach over to turn off the bedside lamp, and then settle back against his warm side.

“Right.”

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

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 1 year

Text

How You Met THE SPARROW ACADEMY:

PAIRINGS: Sparrow Academy x Genderless!Descriptionless!Reader

FOLLOW UP TO: How You Met - The Umbrella Academy

A.N: we need more sparrow content ASAP. I fell quick and I fell hard

WARNINGS: Quick and minor mention of a bus crash (under Marcus tab), varying degrees of content for each character, me borrowing a villain from the comics I don't know shit about other than what i read off of TUA Fandom Wiki, and me still getting the hang of this format and writing and just having fun and being silly with it more than taking it seriously

LINKS: main masterlist || sparrow masterlist

MARCUS HARGREEVES:

Ahh Marcus 😍

He's really just so... 🤩😍🤪🥰😚☺️😅😘☺️🤩

Yeah

Oh my gosh seriously, theres a reason he's number one and it's because he's the biggest dork

You knew a thing or two about putting up about three different kinds of walls until you could hardly recognize yourself, what with you basically being the Lila of the Sparrows

It's complicated how you met but also, not in the slightest

True, there was only one Handler and the only kid she ever "had" was Lila

But she wasn't your mother, she was your boss

One that you only ever met once or twice, but you can hardly remember it, it was so long ago

You were recruited by her, however, at a unusually young age annnndd long story short, you quit

Working for an organization out of time sounded cool, and was. For about 2 (non)minutes

Then it just got depressing and way WAY confusing and downright dangerous

It took so many (non)years to plan an escape and then another two or so to actually put it into action and escape

Nothing unusual, you were constantly jumping from year to year, place to place, never staying one place too long. (Kinda like couch surfing! Time surfing if you want to put it that way)

It went off without hitch, your little plan, and had been going fairly smooth for what you perceived as about four or five years

Then said "pitstop" in good ol' 2009

That's when your path collided with the Sparrows

And when it did, you crashed

No literally, there's a literal crash involved

It was definitely something that happened by total chance

And yeah, you could argue that's how most things are, but, hopefully you get what I mean

Like, it's crazy how you just happened to forget something when you left for your walk for work and decided you had time to go around the corner and get it. Crazy that you had just enough time to catch the next bus

And that next bus just so happened to be the one that got caught in the crossfires of a Sparrow vs Villain of The Week fight

Thankfully nobody was seriously hurt, but there were a great number of close calls

You being one of them

And you had Sloane Hargreeves to thank

In a spur of the moment as you were fleeing the bus with the rest of the crowd, she pulled you lot from across the street and out of harms way

When the fight had died out, the weirdo supervillain calling himself the Murder Magician was taken away (his sidekick, the assistant as well) And the Sparrows were swarmed with press and thankful citizens

You think, because of this, it'd be virtually impossible to get any face time with the famed sparrows, right?

Wrong

Again, it's crazy how you just so happened to be trying to make a beeline out of there (what? being on the run meant blending in, and you couldn't very well do that from here) when you ran into a very handsome wall

"Oh! My apologies, I didn't see you there"

Okay, so. Not a wall. Just a very tall, very handsome, and very very famous man you knew more about than you probably should thanks to your old job maintaining timeliness and such

You insisted you had to go, but wouldn't you know it, your little streak of luck wasn't over yet

That murder magician guy? Did I mention? He had a little something called a murderbot

Kind of makes sense now, I guess. Usually, supervillains aren't as cool with being caught unless they have another trick up their sleeve

So, kinda awkward, but

the thing kinda took ya hostage along with some other unlucky few in the crowd thanks to advantage it got witht he element of surprise and all

Marcus and the sparrows handled it fairly quickly but it was still upsetting!

Experiencing a bus crash, a murder magician, his murderbot and then two rescues all in one morning can take a lot out of you!

Marcus, having already ran into you and then letting you get kidnapped right in front of him immediately after, he felt kinda responsible for you. call him old fashioned (lol)

He asked multiple times if you were okay

He did not want to leave your side until he knew you were okay

He'd invite you back to the academy where Grace could check you over for potential injuries (concussion, internal bleeding, etc) and he could be certain you'd be getting good medical care

(even though EMTs are right the f there lmao)

He may be a dork but he's also a spoiled rich kid like his siblings lskd8v8

You, all the meanwhile, having a whole different timeline's worth of knowledge on him and his siblings thanks to your time at the commission (this excludes the kugelblitz since that was technically not supposed to happen... I think) felt like you were treading dangerous waters interacting with someone so famous in history

I kinda lost where this was going lol but I do know that after all that, it was a bit harder to say no to Marcus and the little soft side he started to show when he was getting worried

Cause you were definitely started to get a little dizzy and you definitely hit your head at some point in all that chaos

And a very handsome, very famous, very dorky, and very kind man was now very worried about you

Okay, so maybe you could be a little bit late to work

SPARROW!BEN HARGREEVES:

I finally understand the term poor little meow meow

He is a wet cat

Angry and petty and snippy

And inexplicably ruthless

You two would probably meet somewhere totally unexpected

Hold on let me think of it real quick

I guess I could see you working their PR or something, if that was even a thing for them (you being newer, and ofc around their age)

Idk I feel like, with Sparrow Ben, and how much of a little shit (affectionate) he is, I think it would be kinda hilarious and yet totally on brand for him to have a connection (good or bad) with someone who got paid to tell him what to do - ie, he thinks he doesn't need it and that it's the others that need to behave and rebrand themselves when he's like, right there

His promo poster was literally the Had To Do It To Em pose, you know I'm right about this

Not exactly the kind of image that's super great for, you know, a superhero

So yeah, he would have to listen, but he'd give a stink

And even a bigger one when you threw it right back

I'd think you'd have to have that kind of skill, at least to some degree, after working in such a field

Or maybe I'm just talking out of my ass

The point is, y'all would likely be bitter, but like, the kind that got comfortable after a while?? If that makes sense??

Either way, he's such a little shit and i just don't see an instance where you meet and it's perfect sunshine and rainbows right off the bat pfft

FEI HARGREEVES:

BIRD SANCTUARY!! BIRD SANCTUARY!! BIRD SANCTUARY!!

YOU WORK IN A BIRD SANCTUARY

You two are a match made in the cosmos and its sickening 🥰

Fei, like her aforementioned brothers, takes herself and the job pretty seriously

So it can be a bit rare for someone to see her in her true element

Or at least--

People who really know her

Her family

So, when a total stranger just comes along and just,,

✨️✨️✨️

Its really special

And what better than bonding over birds, and nerding out over birds?!

I feel like she wouldn't exactly shy away from whatever she may be feeling

But I also think she'd try to underplay it

Ya know, keep it cool and not make a huge deal

You know, it wasnt a huge deal that one day, on her day off, she decides to visit a reveried bird sanctuary just outside of town

And that, upon that visit, she happened to stumble upon you, unable to stop yourself from spewing bird facts and hey? Did this random visitor know about the loyalty of crows and all the limitless examples of humans befriending crows??

Well they did now

Oh no did she love your corny enthusiasm over birds - crows especially!!

She just couldn't help herself when she first overheard you and wanted a better view

Sure she spent her time communing with the birds around her, but a select few of crows--her crows--adopted a sudden interest in you and your info-dumping to unwilling visitors, flocking to you wherever you went

It wasn't unusual for birds to bond with caretakers but you didn't recognize these crows that now seemed to follow you everywhere, always keeping a polite distance and paying careful attention to anything you had to say

Soon enough, you were fully conversing with these crows, making sure they were comfortable wherever they might have come from

That pretty much sealed the deal for her

From then on, she knew she had to make herself known to you; introduce herself, commend your respect for her birds (and the others in the sanctuary)

Yall hit it off immediately, no surprise ajdkps

Oh she's also so fucking smooth adjsjs

Idk, shes just kinda sweeps you off your feet when she finally introduces herself to you, commending you for your respect to your birds (totally teasing you for how you, by extension and strictly technical terms, treated her through her birds) and is such a coy little fker who loves seeing you get all flustered

My god though, shes also so fucking soft and sweet and loyal when you earn her trust

Either friend or partner, she'll come across something she'll think you'll like and give it to you next time she sees you (ohh idk, like a crow)

Shes so fucking loyal and just so heart melting while also being the coolest, smallest fker ever and AHHH

I just love her

ALPHONSO HARGREEVES:

Jskapsoyc

He's so boyfriend shaped

I love him, I need to know more about him, and I'd love to say how you guys met was some miraculous coincidence that makes perfect sense like Fei, but honestly he just really strikes me as someone you just Bump Into, ya know?

He's a guy, and he's just around

Maybe you met in a convenience store

That feels like something that would happen (or maybe I'm just still thinking of his fight scene with Diego)

Oo! Honestly, some place like a bowling alley or arcade

He, like Marcus, is such a dork

But he holds himself as like, a, Cool Dork, ya know?

And it's not as hidden

It's not hidden at all, he's such a snarky pizza-eating, soda-chugging, quick-as-a-whip dork

He feels comfortable in public, for not all the right reasons

And he's easy to run into

He gets a lot of mistreatment by Sparrow fans, but his attitude is much like his power

Arguably, it's because of his powers

He's rubber, they're glue; what bounces off of him sticks to you

ie, he's so good at letting a bad attitude bounce off of him and stick to his attackers

And yeah, sometimes his walls are down and stuff gets to him when he isn't prepared, but overall he is sadly (and infuriatingly) used to it

He's not always the favorite among fans, is what I'm trying to get at

>:( fucking stupid if you ask me

But!!

Woah woah woah. Hold on...

Back up

Apparently he's... your favorite?

Lol okay, yeah, sure, you're totally not trying to be nice, he thinks (note the sarcasm)

Like I said, he's used to feeling the occasional tap on his shoulder -- like now, where he stands in line for some good ol' mediocre bowling alley hotdogs -- cause someone recognized him

He was, arguably, one of the more recognizable sparrows after all, behind Christopher obviously, so

Here we go, he thinks, turning around, hands lazing in his pockets and quite possibly the least enthusiastic look any living thing could conjure on his face

And just like anyone else, you stood waiting as he turned to face you, smiling in a way that was all too obvious you were trying to hide your excitement

"Hey," he nods

"Sorry," you laughed, but not in the usual way. More like an awkward chuckle that sounded nervous. That wasn't too unusual, either

"Sorry," you said again, burying your hand back inside your pocket like the other. "you probably get this all the time, pretty much everywhere"

He shrugged it off, not appearing too bothered by it

"No problem," he said, glancing back ahead to check the line. It still was pretty long; some issue with the deep fryer holding up the line, by the looks of it. He had time. He looked back at you, waiting indifferently for whatever to come. "What's up?"

Judging by the looks of it, you had already started backtracking the moment you got his attention. You were second guessing getting his attention. Cause figures

"Just a big fan," your hands were still in your pockets, fiddling and moving around visibly through the thin cotton, maroon zip-up sweatshirt

You had shrugged, and thats when he noticed your zip up was familiar; it was a piece of sparrow merch

An older one, judging by how worn it looked

The little sparrow insignia higher up on the left breast of the jacket was still there, but it was significantly faded, and the matching white rope laces dangling from the hood were fraying at the ends

He nods again, leaving the future of the conversation up to you

Wildly inconvenient for you, you thought, considering you hadn't exactly thought this far ahead. At least, if you had, you immediately forgot.

You said the first thing that came to mind, cause of course you did

"I loved the Sparrow comics when I was younger,"

Okay, yeah, you definitely regretted this. This was mortifying. Plain and simple.

Sadly, however, Alphonso saw this in your face and misconstrued the reasons for regret

He thought you were regretting talking to him when really you were just getting in your own head

You quickly assure him though, that, actually, he's your favorite and you think he's super cool and you've actually been a fan of his since yall were kids

He takes the information like any other fan interaction,

That is until it really clicks for him you're being totally serious and your enthusiasm is genuine and he kinda :o

Then he's such a suave little shit I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Goes straight to his head, God bless <3

SLOANE HARGREEVES:

Love of my life, bane of my existence 🥰

She's perfect and such an inconvenience to me personally

I love her entirely <3

She's the sweetest of the sweet and sunshine in every sense of the word

Huh? Oh right!

How you met... *ahem* ☺️

Oh no biggie, she just uhh, saved your life is all

Okay okay, maybe not your literal life but she did save your morning shake which saved your morning which saved your ass from your boss

She was a blushing mess despite the grace of her powers and agility -- but it technically had been her fault

Sloane had been in such a rush, she unintentionally collided with you on one of the busier streets downtown

Totally cliche and a meet-cute right out of the movies

I honestly don't think I have much else to say about that, it was pretty straight forward and sweet (like her)

Admittedly you had been rattling around her head for a few days afterwards cause hey 👀👀👀 she can appreciate what's in front of her - and yet, she was kicking herself for not doing something about it

She held a lot of responsibility as a sparrow and part of her was afraid, not so much upholding the sparrow image, but disappointing her siblings

Sloane dreams of a having a life of her own, unsanctioned by her father and/or her brothers and sisters. She's been planning ahead for her inevitable exit, why had she chickened out with you??

Almost two weeks had passed since she ran into you and thirteen days since she talked herself into giving up on anything happening.

She had scolded herself, really, how foolish it was of her to think she could have something sweet and endearing with a very cute person like you

Sloane is a romantic in every sense, and this had merely been proof. How naive

And...

How naive of her to think she saw you standing out like a sore thumb in one of the sparrow crowds stationed outside for one of their outings

She had to do a double take when you gave her a shy wave, and she definitely had to make sure she wasn't making a fool of herself as she made her way over

You had sent her a grateful nod when she covertly steered you two out of the reach of cheering fans crowding around you trying to get to her and her siblings

Sloane may or may not have failed in her attemps to tamper down the corny smile that came with your being here

You looked almost, shy

"I thought you seemed familiar," you smiled, looking up over her shoulder at one of the many huge banners plastered on the academy. She followed your gaze over her shoulder and then quickly averted her gaze, not overly eager to see the sight

Were her cheeks always this sore?

JAYME HARGREEVES:

She was forged by the gays, for the gays

I love that trope where the sunny sunshine one is the grumpy grumps favorite

I feel like that could easily apply to her

But I also feel like it wouldn't be like that immediately, if at all

Not even soon

It would be a long process to get her there cause she's a sparrow after all, and being a sparrow means you come with an ego and stubbornness so strong it might as well be its own superpower

When she met you, she was irrationally and entirely furious

A big part of it was you kept cropping up everywhere

You delivered a pizza to her and Alphonso once upon a time and ever since, by total coincidence, you kept reappearing

She didn't believe it was accidental ofc

She thought you were some stalker

Meanwhile you were just as confused

It wasn't exactly love at first sight for you, either

Jayme was brash and short tempered, but when she was around you -- bumped into you on the street, out for a run in the park, whatever -- she was just plain cruel

And the thing is, she didn't know why

All you had done was the deliver the pizza, made light conversation with Alphonso and wished them both a good day before leaving

The fucking nerve of you

She's just crushing hard, actually

Nah, you're just annoying to her, that's totally it

She totally didn't think you were infuriatingly attractive, fun to be around or anything. And the display of dry humor she witnessed when you were chatting with her brother totally didn't anger her in a way she couldn't understand because she wasn't used to cute people saying stuff that she almost laughed at

But she didn't laugh. So there

She won, you lost

And you didn't even know it.

You simply thanked Alphonso for the early arrival tip, nodded a goodbye to both of them and then left

Just like that. No fan freak outs despite you knowing who they were, no autographs. Just a "thanks for saving the day" and a "let it cool for a few minutes, the pizza oven can get pretty hot and it was a short drive here"

That's it.

But that's just the thing.

That was never it.

There was always more, and Jayme wasn't buying it.

You were too calm, like you had been planning that meeting for ages

Maybe you were, even if that didn't make a damn lick of sense

Alphonso calls her out on her shit and he's the only one she really listens to even though she's not happy about it

On some level she knows she's being an asshole but it's kinda hard for her to help

Oh, real quick, by the way

If you're in the community and that's the context between you two for this preference, I don't mean to say she's acting like this cause of internalized homophobia or anything, she's just kind of an asshole skskxhcppff

This girl knows she's gay

Like Ben, she's more like a cat than a dog

She's cute, but she bites, and she's quick and really, she's just a total dick

It's also just kind of a Hargreeves thing, too to be fair

But, like cats, it's kind of, weirdly, part of their charm

She does make an effort though, after her talk with Alphonso, to be less... dickish

It works

Kind of

After a few practice runs

And lots of pizza orders later

But eventually, she's working her way up to answering the door and getting the pizzas from you with one goal in mind

Not making you storm away in rage

I mean, sure, part of the reason she gets so mad is cause you can actually keep up with her

It's never been this hard for her to get the last word in cause you actually can keep up with her and whatever she dishes out to you, you dish right back

In a way, she's kinda met her match

And that made things worse

But. You were still human and she was the one who was a literal super whose specialty was finding someone's weakness

(Actually Jayme sometimes worries she does that somehow without actually using her powers, so that was a big part of her wanting to be better ☹️)

And she's making mild progress!

It isn't until she's dialing the pizza place and working through her nerves as she does so that she realizes why she's so nervous

And then she throws the phone on the couch in embarrassment cause ew feelings

But one thing keepa her from giving up completely:

For whatever reason, you keep coming back

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months

Text

Stalker Marcus

He just couldn't help it, it was only natural, I mean she wanted it too, she had agreed to it. That wonderful night, that wonderful encounter in the club when he had seen her, moving from the bar to the dance floor.

The smile on her lips when she saw him, they danced together, he kissed her, his hands on her body. The warmth between them he touched everything he could his hands on her hips rubbing against her her giggling at his almost desperation.

That certain something between them as he took her to his home to see her beautiful body on his bed. ,,So beautiful" he mumbled and mumbled over and he praised her shcien with every kiss and bite on her warm soft skin getting more drunk on her.

His hands on her sensitive breasts, her whimpering as she clung to the sheets. The moan of his name as he sucked on her breasts his smirk, ,,You're so sensitive," he said to himself rather than to her like a thought. A thought he would hold on to when she disappeared from his apartment.

When he tried to make contact with her, but she only saw it as a one-night stand. But for him it was more than that because this night was unbelievable and she should want more, shouldn't she? That's how it had to be when he pursued her, but he could feel her excitement when she looked around.

His blood was stirred when he was only a few meters away from her. He could have reached out his hand and touched her again. But he knew better when he was in her apartment, when he was really with her.

His mind wandered there as he let his hand wander over his hardness. She had wanted this night to be so good when she had pressed him onto the bed. Her beautiful eyes on him slowly welled up with tears as she could barely take his length.

The mix of tears, pleasure and drool wet her lips as his hands stroked her head in praise. ,,So fucking good" his moans of praise came over him as she continued to give him a bliss.

The aum was filled with moans and praise, but he didn't let the fun be taken from him as he slowly pulled her off his cock and onto his cock without warning. ,,Ngh-Mar-Marcus slowly," he heard her as he simply lost himself in her, his hips moving into her, her cunt closing around him as he placed his hands on her hips, not letting her leave him.

Her hands on his chest felt against him kept her eyes rolling back with lust. It was incredible when he came inside her too much lust and she lost herself in it, tightening around him a little more than she came herself.

But it wasn't enough, it was as if he wanted her more, wanted to "possess" her. ,,Don't finish....need you," he mumbled, his bright eyes shrouded in lust as he lifted her from him and entangled her in a kiss that she didn't value, even if she wanted to.

As he moved between her legs his warm wet tongue dragged over her cunt. Tasting the slightly salty liquid of the dna that they had shared made him moan. But then a beep and another he looked to the women but his darling wasn't there.

Something was wrong here. Then when he opened his eyes the dream was over the one-night stand had been over for weeks but she haunted his dreams. He didn't have to look down at himself to see that he was hard and dreaming of her again.

But the beeping alarm was a glance at his cell phone later, ,,There you are sweetie," he said and a grin crept onto one lip as his other hand began to take care of his cock. On the screen, hidden under some clothes and pictures from a closet, the camera was pointed at her bed. Saw her lying in bed with her short top and shorts now half covering her.

,,I know-fuck you're just waiting for me...I'll come to you soon," he said knowing she couldn't hear him as he jerked off to her running broadcast. He knew that when he finished here, he would come to her with the replica key. It was only a matter of time before she would love him again because he had never stopped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star , @angelsanarchy , @tori-torisblog , @certifiedsimper , @roryculkinsgf

masterlist

#swarm #swarm series #rory culkin #swarm marcus #marcus x reader #swarm marcus x reader

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misguidedasgardian · 1 month

Text

The Lifeaters (II.4)

IV. The match

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Your first Quidditch match

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia,

Wordcount: 2k

Notes: I want to say something, this isn't a Draco x Reader Story, I mean, maybe not... this is a Slytherin boys x reader with alternative endings and a huge Spinoff where Voldemort wins and reader is left standing in a bad place when he does... so... it goes dark after the battle of Hogwarts... but there are alternative ending in which Voldemort doesn't win... anyways... I'm rambling, but that's it

“Stay on my right, when they go after me, I pass onto you, and you’ll try to score at the shortest hoop, alright?”, you nodded quickly as you struggled to catch to Marcus’ long strodes, “I don’t want you trying to outforce the other team, stay by the sides, waiting, you’ll have your moment”, he commanded, and it was weird, like when it came to Quidditch he was an entire different person, completely determined, “let us and the beaters get our hands dirty, you’ll be our secret, very speedy weapon”, you smirked and he seemed to like the determination in your face

“Yes captain”, you said, with a fierce determination, weeks of training had made you more confident in your abilities, and you were certain that today, you were going to face Gryffindor with everything you had.

It was more personal… your beef with Gryffindor

As you entered the pitch, you looked up at all the people there, cheering, and you realized that you had forgotten about that important element… everyone was going to be looking at you… well at some point. The entire stadium was packed, it was said that even Dumbledore was in attendance! He did not hide his preference from Gryffindor, like last semester when he gave all those points at Potter and his friends for breaking a bunch of school rules.

But you had no time to think about that

This was your first Quidditch game and Marcus, Adrian and Draco had “trained” the nervousness out of you, you were confident, you had the best brooms and the skill and the training, they stood no chance.

You took to the skies like the other team was doing, flying around just to warm up.

You saw your aunt in the boxes, she had actually come to see you play! you waved so much you almost fall from your broom of how excited you were, of course she spotted you back in a second and waved intensely, she was wearing a glistening green robe, in support of your team of course

“I want a clean game from all of you!”, warned Professor Hooch from below. You looked up and spotted Draco flying just above you, you looked in front of you and you saw the Weasley twins with looks in their eyes you didn’t like. But you didn’t think they’d come after you right?

Professor Hooch grabbed the quaffle and you could feel the intensity, she threw in the air, and your broom below seemed to read your thoughts as you went forward to try and catch it

You weren’t lucky enough but Marcus was, he grabbed the quaffle and slipped passed the chasers of the Gryffindors, it was a swarm of flying bodies for a second until it dissipated and everyone was on the move

Oh the thrill of the game was amazing!

The game started and your mind seemed like it just turned off, your instinct taking over. You did as you discussed before and you slipped passed the beaters into the outer side

These brooms were really a game changer, because soon you were met by your team, out-flying everyone else, and you got into a arrow like position, covering each other's backs until Marus passed onto you

And you scored

You giggled frantically as the loud “DING” sounded in the entire stadium, and to you, everyone cheered.

Draco flew by your side, beaming at you and you smiled back, you felt like you were on top of the world!

You went info formation again, meeting the Gryffindors in the middle of the field, the power struggle repeated itself but you came out victorious again with the quaffle in Adrian’s arms

But the Weasley twins had set up a mortal trap between them and one of the bludgers, he managed to throw the Quaffle to Marcus almost on the other side of the field.

You were ready to repeat the same move, you sipping in ahead and score, but as he was going to pass it onto you, you heard the unmistakable gunts of the Bludger going your way you leaned away with such strength that you almost roll off the side of the broom, but you were atop a Nimbus 2001, it rolled with you, doing a magnificent pirouette and let you keep flying straight ahead like you were planning to do.

“Woohoooo!”, you cheered, feeling like you were on fire, Marcus passed onto you again and you scored so close to the hoop you almost got inside it like in trials

Soon you were 60 points ahead of Gryffindor, and you were so happy

But the Gryffindors seemed to get out of their stupor, fighting back fiercely, you tried to steal looks at Draco, but he seems like he was immobile, the preferred technique for the Seekers - to let the snitch came to you -, it was sneaky little ball.

You couldn’t spare him another glance as you were too busy scoring and avoiding the twins, who were very interested in making you fall of your broom with a bludger to the head

But you were quicker than them

Thank you uncle Lucius

They managed to steal the quaffle and score a point, but now it was your turn to fight back, and you did.

But as you were putting together the play to try and score, the twins got off of you, instead chasing his own teammate Potter

You looked closely and now you realized why there was only one bludger in the game, the other was too busy chasing Potter around

You frowned, because even for bludgers, this was an unusual behavior

Wood asked for a timeout. And it was granted.

Then you could stop and take a breath, placing your feet on the ground, Marcus was so happy he smiled at you, as did Adrian

“Keep going like that Basilik, you are doing great”, he said lightly, he then turned to Draco and he stopped smiling.

If Potter catches the snitch before you, all was going to be for nothing!

The game resumed pretty quickly after that, and you were grateful, as much as you loved to play, now you were getting nervous. Or perhaps you could score so much it wouldn’t matter if Potter catches the snitch or not

The bludger went relentlessly after him, why did nobody do anything? something was clearly wrong, but no one said or did anything so the game continued.

Soon the seekers finally saw some action, as Draco and Potter flied right in front of you, chasing the snitch

“Go Draco!”, you cheered but the bludger now was chasing him also. It caused destruction wherever it went, destroying wood, banners, everything

That thing wanted to get to Potter and now it was chasing Draco as well

Then they dived out of sight under the bleachers chasing the snitch, you looked back at the field and Gryffindor had scored again.

You got back in the game as Adrian and Marcus did some doubtful maneuvers to get back the Quaffle, but they did, you got in formation, ready to score again

Except that Adrian got hit by the remaining bludger, you didn’t know where your beaters were

Your play got interrupted as they stole the quaffle again and you needed to retrieve it, but as you turned around to meet them halfway, Potter and Draco resurfaced from the sides of the field.

Your friend was flying broomless, falling to the ground messily,

“Draco!”, you called in desperation, trying to see if he was alright

“Keep playing Basilik”, called Marcus severely, so you obeyed him when you saw Draco sitting down, and conscious on the floor. You were getting close to the hoops, but Professor Hooch blowed the whistle, Potter catched the snitch and the game was over.

You had scored over 100 points! but that wasn’t enough against the catching of the snitch by the Gryffindors

You had lost.

You touched the ground near the player exit of the pitch, for Merlin’s sake how frustrated you were, you lost your very first game.

Draco came walking towards you, broom in hand and rubbing his sore behind

You had been so concentrated on your own game, that you didn’t even payed attention to him, or what he was doing, but Marcus did, he took him to the side and started giving him an earful on how distracted he was on mocking Potter that the snitch was flying just a feet above him and he hadn't seen it

You appreciated that he was indeed reprimanding him despite his father’s generous contribution to the team

“There you are!”, you turned to smile at your aunt, you came with arms wide open, “I’m not supposed to be here, but I wanted to see you”, she gave you a tight hug and her congratulations, when you showed her your broom, you know she was faking the big smile she gave you when she saw it

Then she had to leave, as the game was over and the “guests” were supposed to evacuate the premises

“Lucius”, Cercille called walking hastily to reach him, “I have a bone to pick with you”, he stopped to let her catch him, “Nimbus 2001’s? Really?”, she said angrily, “those are professional brooms! they can be injured by how fast they go!”

“It was a gift”, he said simply, “for the Slytherin Quidditch team”

“I wanted her to get the spot for pure merit”, she said back, “you had no business getting involved in the way I want her to be brought up, I want her to know she needs to get the work done if she wants the benefits of it!”

“Now now, don’t fret, I’m her godfather”, he said simply

“Unofficially”, she warned, he then really got serious, looking down at her due to her being shorter than him

“She is our niece as much as she is yours”, he warned back, but she didn’t retreated

“She is mine”, she growled, “I have been taking care of her since I was eighteen”

“And we thank you for your service”, he said mockingly, she frowned, looking into his eyes, again, not stepping down, making him break eye contact and sighing, “I gifted the brooms after they made it into the team”, he said severely, “She is my goddaughter… I wanted to reward her and my son when they made the team”, he justified, she sighed loudly

“Fine!”

“Fine”, they kept looking at each other

“Thank you”, she said, embarrassed

“You are welcome”, he answered quickly

“How much did they cost? for me to contribute with the generous contribution to our house team”

“That won’t be necessary, that is in fact, what a gift means”

“Fine”

“I can’t believe it, St Potter’s done it again”, he grumbled, he looked… humbled or something, even though he broke his arm, and Lockheart had actually disappeared the bones on his entire arm so he ended up in the Hospital wing

“You did great (y/n)”, congratulated Adrian, and it made you feel so nervous, he was so sweet

“Thank you Adrian”, Draco did not like the starstruck look you had in your face, he frowned at you, as you walked back to the common room

You were now realizing that you had made out of your first Quidditch game and you did not end up in the hospital wing, you felt goosebumps in your arms when you remembered how close that bludger was to hit you in the torso, you could have fallen.

There was no celebration today, although the oldest guys of the team disappeared mysteriously.

You had your spare jersey on with simple dress pants and that is how you made it to the common room.

Daphne, Pansy and Mill went to greet you giggling and congratulating you, that you had been amazing, and that you looked so great

They weren’t great quidditch fans but it meant a lot that they were trying

“You look good Basilik”, muttered Matthew with a wink, and you felt so strange now.

“Yes, green is totally your color”, Pansy muttered

And you appreciated that even if you still lost, you did great and you were excited.

But the next day… it came crashing down… a reality check, a bucket of ice cold water…

A kid had been attacked, it was supposed to be a secret, but it wasn’t…

That little boy that went every way with a muggle camera had been attacked, he had been petrified.

And the most scary part is that nobody in Slytherin was actually scared…

#misguidedlifeaters #harry potter and the chamber of secrets #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy

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icarus-star · 3 months

Text

look what i found on pinterest

#swarm #swarm 2023 #marcus swarm #rory culkin swarm #i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut

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444rockstargf · 8 months

Note

hello, I'm dying for some forcing Marcus (swarm) into submission type of smut 🙏 like he claims to be a dom but meets dom reader and realizes he likes to be submissive more (? thank youu

i literally had to google who marcus was bc i didnt know that was his name (that scene still appears in my dreams)

"im like crack 'cuz my taste will change you." | marcus

midnight dancer girlfriend. - lana del rey

femdom!reader x sub!marcus

contents: use of handcuffs, masturbation, oral (m&f receiving), face sitting, 69, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread.

you saw him at the club, watching you as you danced the night away. you were beautiful and elegant and he swore that he'd show you a good time tonight.

when the two of you got back to his place, he pulled out a box, telling you to look inside. in the box, there were handcuffs, ball gags, more sex toys than you could name, and plenty of other things that had become a part of his routine. you could tell that he wasnt the submissive type, but you knew exactly what to do in this situation.

he sat down on the bed, pulling on to him as the two of you started making out. his hands wandered down your body before he started unbuttoning your dress. but you stopped him before he could get very far. you told him that if he waited, you could make this whole night a lot better for him, and he couldnt turn that down.

you undressed right infront of him, making his eyes widen and a bulge appear in his pants. he stared at your perfect tits, allowing his eyes to wander where ever they pleased. you took the handcuffs from the box and fastened his arms behind his back, preventing him from touching you or himself.

you set yourself down in between his legs and unzipped his pants, freeing his dick. it was already rock hard and shiny at the tip. he expected you to get right to it and start right away, but you had something else in mind. you sat down in front of him, keeping a good distance between the two of you and spread your legs.

you brought to fingers to your mouth, covering them in your spit before moving them down to your wet cunt and gently rubbing your clit. marcus couldnt take his eyes off of you, feeling his body filling up with desire and lust. he tried to move his hands, but he was restrained by the handcuffs, forcing him to just watch as you pleasured yourself.

you quickened your pace, rubbing quick circles onto your aching pussy, moaning at the feeling of your fingers giving you so much pleasure. marcus begged and pleaded for you to let him do something. whether it was to touch you or himself didnt matter to him at this point. after a little while, you decided to let him have it.

you got him to lay down on his back, which he did without hesitation. you lowered your pussy onto his mouth gently, not wanting to hurt him, but it didnt really seem like that mattered to him. he immediately started to eat your pussy, hungrily licking up every single part of it. you watched his cock throb and drip with precum as he ate you out.

you leaned forward and spat on your hand before grabbing his cock and stroking it quickly. a deep groan emerged from the back of his throat as you were finally giving him some satisfaction. he mindlessly bucked his hips into your hand, trying to get more friction.

you licked the tip of it before taking the whole thing in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip everytime you came back up. you could feel his body trembling under yours as you got more intimate with your actions. he kept your pussy in his mouth the entire time, the moans coming from him sending a buzzing sensation through your body.

you started using your mouth and your hands at the same time, using your hand on any part that your mouth wasnt covering. his tip was already bubbling with precum and you felt his length throbbing in your mouth. he started pushing his tongue in and out of your wet hole, making the pleasure become overwhelming.

you lifted yourself off of marcus, a disappointed whimper coming out of him since neither of you got to cum. but he quickly lightened up as soon as you climbed on top of him, slowly putting his cock inside of you. it took everything in him to not cum right there on the spot.

after you were comfortably on his dick, you started riding him at a torturingly slow pace. you saw him getting impatient, so you picked up the pace a little, moving your hips against his a little faster. the sight of you on top of him in this state was making him go wild.

you were making him feel so good that he couldnt hold back his noises. he was a moaning mess, asking you to go faster and begging you to let him cum. the room filled with your whimpers and groans, along with the sound of skin slapping repeatedly.

you put your hands on his shoulders as you felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm. he wanted to stay strong for you, his top priority being to make you cum first. he started rocking his hips into yours, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you clenched your pussy around his cock, causing him to throw his head back as he used all his strength to hold back his orgasm.

as you finally reached that point, you held his face and told him to cum with you. his hips were bucking into your at an unearthly pace when you finally came, your pussy tightening around his throbbing cock. this was enough to send him over the edge, making him release all his cum inside of you.

you rode out your climax, riding him until his cock softened and your little pussy was sore and wet. you tucked his dick back into his pants, patting it softly. you undid his handcuffs and put them back into the box. you got underneath the blankets beside him, looking him in the eye. "see? that wasnt so bad, was it?" you said with a little chuckle.

he shook his head and laughed softly. "not bad at all. ill definitely do it again sometime. if youre up for it, that it..." he smiled as a grin spread across your face. "yeah, anytime."

author's note: 3 posts in one day is actually insane. im gonna rewatch rory's episode in swarm because i just cant get enough of it. i hope you all enjoyed this and thank you for the request!!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #swarm #swarm 2023 #lana del rey #444rockstargf

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foli-vora · 2 years

Note

Congrats on 1k! ✨ can I request 35 w/Marcus Pike x f!reader? (He takes care of her?) Absolutely ❤️ your writing so much!!!

*We’re ignoring the fact that this request has taken a year. I’M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY*

Thanks so much sweet thing! So sorry for the super late reply to this, but I hope you still enjoy my little somethin’.

#35 kissing their bruises and scars

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: guns, violence, the sweetest man to ever exist

It was never meant to happen like it did. The plan had been thoroughly worked out, everyone tirelessly going over each and every minor detail there was little room for error, and yet—it happened.

The pull of a weapon was nothing new to him anymore. Sure, it birthed that familiar trickle of adrenaline that thrummed through his system and kicked his instincts into power mode, but there was very little fear now. He trusted his gut, and his team. The pull of a weapon onto you, however, was a different situation entirely.

He feels the steady loss of blood from his face, the way sweat starts to build along the skin of his palms and back of his neck. He should shoot. He should shoot now—

The quiet demand you hiss at him has him pausing, his fingers tightening around his own weapon as he fights the voice inside his mind all but screaming at him to take the suspect out, to put just one bullet in that shoulder and make him drop that fucking gun. He was a threat—a threat to him, to the team, to you.

You’re so cool about it, barely even flinching when the barrel aims square at your chest. Your hands are raised, your voice calm and steady as you try to diffuse the situation. You’re so damn good at your job. He doesn’t tell you enough.

Your gentle coaxing works. The weapon slowly lowers and Marcus feels like he can take a small breath, but then in a split second, it all goes wrong.

Something startles the suspect. He panics. The gun is raised and Marcus watches in horror as your chest takes the brunt of a bullet, and then another, your body falling back into the table behind you. His own weapon is fired not even a breath later, his team moving in to swarm the suspect now bleeding and yelling on the floor and he doesn’t care.

He rushes to you, your name falling from his lips in a panicked shout, but relief fills his pores when you squirm on the ground and shift to roll onto your side, pushing yourself into a sitting position.

You’re groaning, the pained frown deepening between your brows as you tear away at your shirt to view the damaged Kevlar and rub at where the bullets had hit.

“Jesus Christ, that fucking hurts.” You whine with a cringe. “I want a pay rise.”

Marcus drops to his knees, one hand moving to run over the Kevlar while the other dances along your jawline. There’s a tremble in his hands as his eyes flicker over your form before rolling to meet yours, his thumb brushing along the soft skin of your cheek.

“You good?” You murmur, watching the fear and relief swirl in those beautiful deep brown eyes.

He swallows, inhaling deeply through his nose before nodding, smiling faintly at your ever present need to put others before yourself. You’re the one with bullets in your vest and yet you’re asking him if he’s okay?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

—

He’s at his desk, head bent over the paperwork spread in front of him. You watch the steady scrawl of his pen across the pages before you rap a gentle hand at the door, smiling when his gaze flies up to meet yours.

“Caffeine, sir.” You brandish a cup of coffee, playfully bending at the waist in a mock bow before the sudden flash of pain has your features twisting and he sits straighter in his chair.

“Have you been cleared—”

Smiling, you come around to perch on the edge of his desk beside him after quietly closing his door, carefully resting his coffee on the small bit of bare desk between files.

“Yes, boss. No broken bones or internal damage. Just some swelling and bruising. I gotta take it easy though, so guess who’s cooking dinner?”

“Hmm… probably me because you can’t cook.” He grins, pushing to roll his chair back so you could slide fully in front of him. The pen drops to the desk with a quiet clatter as his hands come to rest softly on your hips, your own coming to run along his shoulders and hook loosely around his neck.

“Rude. It’s not my fault your oven burns things.”

His smile widens before a small frown starts to work its way along his brow, his mind running through the events of the day and what he could have done differently. His eyes fall to your torso while a hand lifts to run along where you had been hit, replaying that moment of impact and watching you fall back again and again until an ugly feeling settles harsh and relenting around his heart.

You wince under the soft pressure and he pulls away immediately, instead moving to pinch the hem of the soft cotton FBI shirt hanging off your shoulders and moving it up out of the way.

“We’re not the only ones here, Special Agent Pike.” You remind him in a soft murmur, humming as his lips press softly into the bare skin of your stomach.

“I just have to do something.”

He pushes the shirt higher, his thumb brushing over the noticeable lump along your skin before pressing his lips tenderly to the area. He stays there for a long moment, his curved nose ghosting over your skin as his lips deliver kiss after sweet kiss.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest at the tender gestures, your chest and cheeks warming with affection as your fingers card gently through his hair. He moves his attention to the other sore spot, delivering just the same amount of care and love there before exhaling softly against your skin.

He blinks up at you and you smile, fingers dancing along his hairline. “I love you.”

Marcus softens at the words, a faint flush of pink working it’s way up his throat as his lips curl into a wide toothy smile. “I love you. Come on, let’s get you home and into a hot bath. Boss’s orders.”

“Will you make me pancakes?”

“Anything for you.”

#foli's 1k #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #the mentalist fic

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chaoticgeminate · 1 year

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A Future with You

Summary: Sometimes things happen that change everything, and the kind actions of a stranger help you at a low point in your life. Not only do you get to return that kindness but you also wind up happier than you've ever been.

Rating: M (Non/Semi-explicit smut content)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!Reader (If you notice any descriptors please let me know kindly and I'll fix them)

Notes: This work is a part of the @pedrostories Secret Santa event and is a gift, I tried very hard not to imply any holiday the reader celebrates but included a holiday tradition from my giftee which is why there is a Christmas film on the title card. That being said:

Happy Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Yule, Saturnalia Salutations to my Secret Santa giftee @browneyes-issac! I really hope you enjoy my gift, Lotus, this was a lot of fun to write ❤

A Future with You (6.7k)

“I’m sorry.”

Echoing, repeating, inside your head like a specter that wouldn’t leave you alone; the two words held none of the emotions they should have, the tone was blank and empty and had been delivered that way. Even now you could still see his stupid face looking anything but sorry, those green eyes lacking any empathy for what he’d done to you, and it hurt worse as all the ugly little thoughts you’d kept at bay were buzzing like a swarm of pests surrounding you.

You aren’t good looking enough, why would he choose Kaleigh otherwise?

You aren’t smart enough, you would have gotten that promotion sooner if you were, right?

You spend too much time working rather than being a good partner, he wouldn’t have to find affection somewhere else if you tried harder would he?

Each thought cut deeper and deeper, the aching in your chest bleeding out and making you feel cold, your legs pulled close to your chest and your face buried in your knees to hide the tears spilling over your cheeks. Around you the airport was bustling and loud but you couldn’t hear it, the endless number of conversations and bubbly pop music were muted by the grief and the voices of your own inner demons screaming at you.

Someone touched you, the hand on your elbow gentle, but you hadn’t been ready for it; head snapping up to look, worried you’d missed your flight or something. Instead, there were gentle brown eyes, a soft smile fading into a look of concern, and the stranger pulled his hand back; his lips moved but you still couldn’t hear him over the roaring of your inner demons, now mocking you for bringing a stranger into your pity party.

He tried again and this time you paid attention, you forced yourself to focus on the here and now, you pushed those inner demons back knowing it would just make the intrusive thoughts worse later.

“Are you on the DCA flight? I can make sure you don’t miss it.”

“What?”

Good going, dummy, way to sound like a moron in front of this guy.

“If you- if you need to stay like that, I can make sure you don’t miss the boarding call. I don’t expect you to open up to a complete stranger, but I don’t want you to miss your flight because of the hurt.” Part of you, the pride that you still had left, bristled at how quickly he’s seen you and figured you out; wanting to deny the assist on principle that you were just fine without someone jumping in. That you didn’t need a fucking knight in shining armor or some shit, no matter how distraught you seemed to be.

He's just being kind.

This stranger was giving you more courtesy that your ex had in, well, probably a long time. He was giving you the chance to hurt without the worry that it would cause problems getting home, and you needed that more than you knew.

“Please?” Your voice was rough from the screaming fit just hours before, when Ryan had the audacity to ask you to give him half of your own savings -thank the fucking powers that be you had not combined finances yet- so he could buy an engagement ring for Kaleigh. His rushed proposal to you had been done with a cheap ring from a little crane game he’d won on your anniversary trip, it was cute and you’d been happy with it because it’d been a sweet proposal and just fit the two of you so well; now though it stung, thinking about the fact that he wanted to give Kaleigh the hallmark proposal and happy family.

A nod was all you needed to return to burying your face in your knees, to muffle your soft wheezy sobs in the plush fabric of your scarf -it was going to be cold in DC and you weren’t going to be the idiot unprepared for the weather- and just letting the emotions go. But this stranger didn’t just support you by promising the bare minimal help, he went and got a fresh bottle of water for you when you’d finished yours and even went and got you a small snack from one of the nearby vending machines when you’d told him you hadn’t eaten since at least two days before.

This man had put more care and attention into you in the span of two hours than Ryan had in two years.

Fuck you’re pathetic if a stranger is better to you than your ex was.

Marcus Pike, as he introduced himself eventually, was a genuinely good man and you had to admit you were kind of jealous of this Teresa person that was apparently flying out to DC in a week to follow him. He’d gotten a text from her that she was working on a case or something, that she’d call in an hour or two if she could, and that led to him telling you about her. But the jealousy you thought you’d feel that he was getting everything he wanted and you weren’t just… wasn’t there. If anyone deserved a happy marriage it was this good-hearted, sweet, man beside you who saw a stranger in pain and stepped up.

“So, uh, are you from DC or the surrounding area?” He was trying to make conversation no doubt, you hummed as you chewed on the bite of the meal you’d ended up buying now that your appetite was returning, and a part of you was at war with giving him such personal information when you’d only just met him today. But you didn’t have some of the same bad vibes that you usually got with creeps or pushy men; you had a feeling if you refused to answer he’d actually respect that.

“Surrounding area, though my promotion does come with a change of office to DC. I’m in Baltimore currently but I’ll be looking for a place in DC as soon as I get back since it’s an hour commute not counting the traffic. The week I got off was supposed to be for me to begin the process of finding residency closer to work, I had use-or-lose time that would’ve been lost as soon as I started at the new role so it just made sense to take it when I got the affirmative that I’d be promoted.” Marcus was nodding in understanding at your logic, you hadn’t expected to actually get approved for any houses or places but just being able to take your time touring the options had been the idea.

Marcus grabbed his phone and handed it to you after opening a browser window, the condo was a nice place and the cost was actually pretty decent for the size.

“I was initially looking here, since they’re one-bedroom places, but with Teresa coming along I decided to spring for a two-bedroom so we could have an office room.” You sent yourself the share link, already liking that it had designated parking and security cameras around the building, but what sold it was the fact that the interior wasn’t the modern aesthetic with sleek square edged and monochrome colors. The appliances were a lovely shade of royal blue, the furniture that came with the place was vintage and fun looking, and if that was Marcus’ taste it was just one more way he was nothing like any man you’d met.

“Thank you, I’ll check this place out.” You had a few more days left of time at least, since handling things with your ex had been done quickly once you knew what was actually going on, and since he was planning on staying here in Austin you’d even decided to take the L and mail his things back to him so he didn’t have to fly back and you could avoid him accusing you of purposefully withholding his belongings. That meant time to wander around DC and get an idea of where you might want to live, though this place was looking pretty alright.

For the first time in a while you didn’t even feel scared that a stranger would know where you potentially lived, the warning bells were absent and you didn’t know if that was because Marcus was just that good or because he was good at hiding it, and you decided to let yourself believe in him being a good person.

There were so many other things you had to stress about and this was something you didn’t want to add to the list.

As the boarding call started, after you and Marcus spent time talking about favorite books and films, he let you on ahead of him and waved from his seat near the front of the cabin as you moved toward the back. The curse of booking a late ticket, of course, and after setting your phone to airplane mode you decided to take the nap you knew you needed.

Marcus bid you farewell at the exit terminal in DCA while he was getting his phone turned back on, since you didn’t have to go through baggage claim there was no added wait, and you were off and in a cab toward the hotel you’d booked last minute in the city so that you could just stay and explore living spaces before heading back to your place in Baltimore.

The condo was finally furnished, it looked like your space, and all of the boxes of Ryan’s stuff had long since been shipped off and confirmed to arrive at Austin. Breaking the lease on your old place had been costly -his parents chose to cover the cost after the truth came out- but you were free, free of someone who saw you as a piggy bank and free to move on with your career and live the life you wanted to live. You wiped the sweat off your brow and decided to head down the road to the nearby diner, a bite to eat that you didn’t have to cook sounded great, and you had a few hours before your best friends would be here to help put your knickknacks and art up.

It had been months since you got back, months since you’d started at work in your new position, and even if finding the time to hunt for a place in DC was limited to weekends and unexpected breaks in your work weeks you’d managed to finally tour a bunch of apartments and condos in the area. In the end you’d settled on the place Marcus had shown you after getting the in-person tour.

Now as you faced the brisk fall weather your mood was much higher, you were living a fair distance from work that public transport and even just walking would be fine too, and now you were going to get some good classic food. Warm and soft lighting made you relax as you entered the eatery, it was a seat yourself joint and you were ready to take a seat at the bar when you spotted a familiar face in one of the booths, waving when he looked up from his phone screen; Marcus’ smile was blunted since your first meeting and you glanced at the bar a moment and walked over to greet him instead.

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here. Want company?” Not wanting to assume anything you couldn’t help but grin when his smile did shift to something warmer and more welcoming.

“Only if you want to.” You slid into the seat with a smile after he gave you the okay. “How have you been, since getting back to Baltimore?”

“Better, it’s still- there’s still plenty of hurt but I’m in a better place all around; especially now that I know the whole truth. I just finally finished unpacking and organizing my place here in DC, so I figured I’d celebrate. How about you? How’s the East Coast treating you?” Since he was alone and lacking a band on his left ring finger you avoided the topic of the woman he’d said was coming out here, he’d been so excited about his engagement and with how sweet he was you had expected his fiancée to be just as enthusiastic.

Marcus’ shoulders dropped a little and you didn’t even think before reaching out to take the hand he had on the table, offering a sympathy-filled smile, and his eyes dropped from your face to your connected hands before he let that smile fall away.

“East Coast as a whole is okay, but Teresa ended up breaking the engagement to be with the guy that she was in love with before me. I knew it wasn’t- I knew that as long as she was around Jane that she would choose him; we’d only been together a few months before I proposed, I didn’t want to lose my chance with her just by being transferred so I’d called in a few favors to get her a position here and hoped that being away from the guy that wasn’t returning her feelings would let her move on. With me.”

You knew he’d moved fast; he’d told you that, but you had seen shorter dating periods turn into long and happy marriages before. What upset you was that Marcus had put his heart, his hope, into someone that just wasn’t in a place to be that person for him and wasn’t willing to just tell him that.

“You saw what the two of you could be and wanted to try for that, Marcus, and that’s perfectly okay. You gave Teresa every chance to tell you ‘no’ and she didn’t take it for whatever reason, if she wasn’t able to commit to you entirely then she shouldn’t have accepted your proposal. If she wasn’t able to communicate with you, to try to move on from the other guy, then she should have said something. It takes two people to make a relationship work and it sounds to me like she wasn’t trying as hard as you were.”

When you looked up from your hands it was to a man with shiny eyes and tears threatening to fall, a man who had been hurt and needed someone who could at least understand the hurt, and you didn’t say anything when he used a napkin to dab his eyes gently. If anyone understood what he was feeling right now it was you, after all, given that the situations weren’t the same but there were some strong parallels. Him allowing himself to cry? To feel? You liked that about him, a lot.

“When Ryan proposed it was a rushed thing too, it was on our anniversary and he won a little plastic ring out of a crane game instead of the little charm bracelet he’d been trying for. He looked at it, looked at me, and then got down and proposed right there; almost made me think he meant to try for it for that reason and since our relationship had always been easy and never focused on the materialistic things, I loved it and it was sort of on brand. But he pulled away, after that, wasn’t involved in any of the planning unless I specifically asked for his opinion. I thought it was cold feet, or that he was just nervous because he didn’t know if his parents were able to make it to the wedding on the day we chose, but it turns out his childhood friend Kaleigh was newly single and he’d always loved her.”

Saying the story out loud made the anger lessen, now that you could see the signs clearer, even if the hurt was still there. How Ryan had always talked about Kaleigh’s clothes style, compared your hairstyles on special occasions to hers, and just being very attentive to her social media to the point that you knew more about Kaleigh than his own sister before you’d ended up opening a group chat with Hannah. A part of you also felt like you’d dodged a bullet, learning before you were married, because it meant that not only had it festered enough to do more hurt later but you had a lot more to lose in a divorce situation compared to Ryan.

His grip tightened, making you look up, and Marcus’ expression was one of understanding. Even without saying the words he knew that you were offering him support, that you knew his pain and would be the person he could open up to about it, and if it weren’t for your meals being delivered you were sure the two of you would have been able to just sit in comfortable silence.

“Ah, pancakes guy? Breakfast for dinner is something I haven’t done in a while.” You took a bite of your meal and Marcus shrugged, putting a good bit of syrup -the authentic maple syrup not the gloopy pancake syrup- onto the hubcap sized pancake along with a large dollop of butter. Your talk lightened to things in the area to do for fun, things in Baltimore to do for fun, hobbies you had currently and things you wanted to try and get into.

Marcus was genuinely a good person and creative as hell, watching him sketch you on a napkin in only a few minutes had left your face warming at the detail he managed to get into the little image. Only after you’d gone through a few refills, talked until you were sure your voice was going to be shot, and spent nearly an hour more than you planned there with him did the two of you decide to leave. Marcus paid for your meal -his insistence- and followed you back to yours where you brewed some coffee for him and let him lean in the doorway of your kitchen as the two of you talked about movies that you enjoyed.

By the time you both sat down on your couch, on opposite sides with you pulling your legs close, a small part of you was loath to let him leave. Marcus had proven before that he was attentive and kind with a big heart and knowing he was going to therapy -he’d glossed over it but you didn’t mind since he trusted you enough to even mention it in the first place- all it proved was that he wanted to heal and be better. You liked him, and even though your heart hurt, you were terrified of the idea of losing him because you wanted to take more time for yourself, but you didn’t want to push him into anything by rushing since he was going through the same heartbreak you were.

“So, uh, you never said what you did for work. What brought you from Texas to DC? Politician?” Dropping the thoughts before they could ruin your night, choosing to needle him just a little, you watched the way Marcus’ nose wrinkled instantly. You knew he wasn’t but you were sure he’d be a good one, the kind of guy to push for what was right without forcing his lifestyle on others, and the idea of him putting any of those crusty old raisins in office in their place was a fun one.

“Nah, I’m not old enough or conservative enough to be a Texan politician. FBI actually, art crimes. I’m on the team of people that investigate when museums get robbed of art work or statues, sometimes we end up tracking things internationally depending on the thief. We also have to inspect and identify if things that pop up are authentic or if they’re fakes.” His explanation was delivered in an even voice and he showed you his badge while he was at it, your throat tightened and you felt the gooseflesh on your arms as the image of him apprehending a thief made your heart beat a little faster.

As if he couldn’t be more attractive, he had to be an FBI agent too?!

“That’s really incredible, I can’t imagine it was easy either. Did you have to get a degree in classic art before going to whatever FBI training is?”

Marcus laughed softly.

“I went to Quantico first, actually, my father was always set that as his firstborn son I’d be police or military or some role with authority. He could handle the FBI but it wasn’t until I was out of Quantico serving as a low-level agent that I pursued my Art Degree and transferred to Art Crimes as my hands-on credit hours. He still hasn’t forgiven me.”

“His loss, that is an amazing career to pursue Marcus.” You didn’t miss the way his smile brightened or how he hung off every word as you told him about your own career, how you’d not only gotten your promotion but quickly earned a pay raise on top of the raise that came with the new position, and you honestly couldn’t be happier now that you’d escaped “Hallmark Rom-Com” territory with your love life. After being able to focus solely on your career you’d managed to get into a much better place for yourself financially, which if you were being honest, helped bring you to a better place emotionally too.

Marcus stayed until he absolutely couldn’t and even then you made plans to meet up again on the weekend since he knew of a place that did drive-in movies, old black and whites and you hated that when you closed the door your heart was skipping and you couldn’t stop the way you did a corny little victory dance. It wasn’t a date, he hadn’t explicitly said it, but it was a start.

It was a date, the first of many, and Marcus was a breath of fresh air in the best way. He was kind, supportive, understanding, and an attentive lover. The whole ass package and somehow fate had put him in your path, not that you were complaining in any way, and this year was your first holiday together. You had plenty of fall-time dates last year trading apple cider and pumpkin kisses, snuggling up in the library together to just read or going to snuggle in his car at the drive-in theater, and there had been countless times you’d stumbled into the door of one of your houses where clothing ended up on the floor and sometimes you didn’t even make it to a bed.

You didn’t regret it, him, at all; a number of people tried to slow you down, since it hadn’t been so long after your break-up with Ryan before you and Marcus began dating, but their tunes changed when they actually met him and saw you two with one another. The main reason you hadn’t spent the holiday together as a couple yet was that Marcus had plans already with his family out of the country last year and you weren’t quite willing to intrude on that, even though you were sure about him, you didn’t want to crash a family vacation.

This year was yours, he’d promised, but that wasn’t looking like it would happen. Part of you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked at the calendar again, Marcus had to go to Austin for an undercover op and couldn’t even call you, he only had an approximation for when he’d be able to either call or come home. Since he was a Christmas guy you had used your key to his place and decorated his condo for the holiday for him, even getting out his fake tree and doing the entire set up, sneaking a few things of your own traditions around the main room before deciding it was done.

But all the tinsel and candles -LED since you weren’t exactly staying here to watch them- and décor couldn’t erase how it was lacking one Marcus Pike to fill the space with his sunny smile and warm affection. Even if you couldn’t celebrate the whole season with him, at the very least Christmas was enough for you if he could make it home, and as the days were crossed off your calendar it was looking less and less likely. Your own condo was significantly sparse on décor, trying to lighten your mood by making Marcus’ place look like a Christmas dream hadn’t really worked out the way you planned and his continued absence stole your spirit.

A chime from your phone made you huff softly and answer, if only to disrupt the cheerful ringtone, you knew it wasn’t Marcus since he had a custom ringtone set.

“Hey sharpshooter.”

Ryan’s parents had given you the title when you’d beat his entire family at the little shooting game at their town faire on your first visit, it was bittersweet hearing it again.

“Hi Drew, happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays, kid, just wanted to let you know that Nadine and I are proud as hell of you and that we miss you. I know it’s probably weird, your ex-fiancé’s parents calling to wish you happy holidays but you were family to us.”

“I don’t blame you or Nadine for what happened, but thank you for calling. Tell her I said hello and happy holidays, Drew.”

“Will do, sharpshooter, we wanted to pack up and send you some honey from the bee farm if you’re interested as a gift.”

“That would be a wonderful present, thank you.”

Even if you didn’t use it you could always re-gift it and pass business along.

“Good, you still have that drop box?”

“Yep! That’s perfect, Drew.”

“Wasn’t going to ask for your new address, figured in the New Year you’d want to move on for good.”

“I appreciate that, more than you know, but I’m glad I got to say a proper goodbye this time.”

“Me too, kid. Don’t settle for anyone that doesn’t respect you, you deserve the world.”

“I haven’t, Drew.”

“Even better.”

You knew when a conversation with Drew was over, when the sentences turned to one or two words, and despite this being one of the shortest conversations you had with the man you appreciated it all the same because now you could move on knowing that everyone from that point in your life was okay. You honestly felt lighter and almost jumped when you heard your door opening, knowing you’d locked it behind you, and your eyes widened when Marcus rounded the corner of the entry with a large grin on his face.

“Marcus!”

Your wail of his name drowned out the rapid tattoo of your footsteps as you hurried to hug him, to prove that he was really here, and he caught you in a tight hold and just held you close. His cologne was different, the facial hair was different, and the lingering scent of dry Texas air was different, and yet the feel of his arms around you and the warmth he seemed to just give off constantly was the same.

“I missed you so much, I’m so sorry I couldn’t call or contact you-“

“Don’t apologize, I know it was for your job, you were safer that way and it was required. You’re home, that’s what matters.”

“God, I love you, I love you so much, I booked the first flight home I could and spent extra hours in the office just to make sure I could come back and stay here.”

Marcus didn’t argue at all when you dragged him through your apartment, mouth practically fused to yours as you worked to get him out of his clothes and into the shower, your own clothes joining his on the floor as you joined him under the stream of hot water. He proved how much he missed you, whispering praise and love into your wet skin, the slick glide of your bodies and heavy breathing laced with promises and traded affections between each throaty cry of his name were things you would remember for the rest of your life. He was insatiable for you, just as you were for him, and the shower round turned to soaking your sheets after stumbling out of the shower and away from your poor attempt at getting him clean.

He was all lips and tongue and hands, no inch of you was left untouched or unloved, and Marcus went as far as holding the back of your neck as he filled you just so he could make sure he could watch your face as he made you fall apart over and over again. His kisses were deep and intense, encompassing you entirely even as his hips rocked so slow and deep against yours, it was toe-curling and spine arching and yet you couldn’t get enough.

When you both were spent, wanting to just make out and talk and cuddle, Marcus migrated you to the couch after getting you both into comfier clothes where he nestled into the corner of your L shaped sofa and let you lay on him with his legs on either side of you, turning on some low background noise in the form of classic Christmas movies, and you couldn’t begin to care as Rudolph and Hermey met Yukon Cornelius since Marcus was here with you at last.

“I need to go decorate my condo; did you want to come help? You could just stay at mine until the holidays are over?”

A slow smile spread across your face when you realized that he hadn’t been home yet, he’d come to see you first, and you nodded before getting up to pack a bag to bring with you. Marcus helped of course, you even let him choose some of the casual stuff to pack, and other than stopping for a simple take-out dinner the ride was filled with him telling you about the sting operation. He’d posed as an art teacher to expose someone on the staff from not only stealing student’s work but for having some of the better talents recreate pieces that had gone missing and passing them off as legitimate.

You couldn’t be happier that he had pretty thick curtains so you couldn’t see the glow of the battery powered candles through them, asking him about his method of befriending the perpetrator to distract him as you let him handle the luggage so you could open the door, and Marcus’ face went slack when he stepped into the condo to see it fully decorated already.

“I- you- you decorated my condo?”

“Wanted you to come home to one less thing to do, it was a good way to help fight how much I missed you for a little while.”

Marcus’ slack expression warmed before he was tugging you onto the plush carpet, the net of Christmas lights you’d attached to his ceiling using command hooks twinkled like stars as Marcus kissed you deeply under them, and you couldn’t resist flipping him onto his back so he was looking up at the lights while you tugged off your hastily donned clothes again. Your bodies were dewy with sweat and the lights were reflecting off his skin and twinkling in his eyes, his lips dropped open as you held him in place so that you could give him nothing but pleasure, and Marcus’ hands gripped your hips to help move you as he watched you.

Even with his feet planted he let you lead, let you control the pace, and by the time you were shuddering and tensed up as you crested that high Marcus was seeking his own completion and guiding you with his hands until he was spent and shaking under you. He pulled you down and just laid with you under the Christmas lights that you’d put up, the warm condo -thank you automatic thermostats- was a little chilly but not enough to make you feel the need to get up just yet.

“I plan to do a lot more to you under these lights.” Marcus’ eyes were dark with mischief and desire as he made that promise and you were more than eager to let him see it through.

Waking up with Marcus’ warm body pressed close to yours kept you drowsy and comfortable, eyes heavy still even as you glanced at the clock, and while you didn’t have to get up early today there was definitely a motive involved doing so. For the past week or so Marcus had been sneaking out of bed before you to make you breakfast.

‘I like taking care of you, besides you’ll agree to move in sooner if the promise of breakfast and as many orgasms you want is on the table right?’

He was a caretaker, a giver, you knew that about him but so were you and he was starting to make you feel like you weren’t giving him enough. It was a conversation to have, sure, but that would come later. He barely stirred when you slipped out of bed, didn’t make a peep when you tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of underwear, and his kitchen was warm and quiet as you raided the fridge to start cooking right away.

He hadn’t seen you smuggle his gifts home, since you both had still worked up until the holiday, and the wrapped presents were carefully tucked under the tree as the coffee pot percolated and the pan you needed warmed up. Hiding them from him had been embarrassingly easy, for a man that was an FBI agent he seemed to have forgotten that his coffee table had hidden storage because you’d even set a little bit of a trap so you would know if he got into his gifts.

Breakfast was nearly complete when you heard the sleepy call of your name from the bedroom.

“I’m in the kitchen, Marcus.”

You’d thrown on an elf hat for some Christmas humor, hearing your boyfriend hum appreciatively as he walked into the kitchen, and he grabbed your hips as he came up behind you.

“Did Santa leave me one of his helpers for Christmas?”

A small chuckle escaped you as you nodded, watching him pour himself a mug of coffee, and his eyes drifted to the tree over the breakfast bar countertop. You felt the weight of his stare at the boxes in plain sight and resisted the urge to laugh, just barely, and while he didn’t say anything he did pinch your butt and set the table for breakfast.

Only after you sat down did you notice that he had added boxes to the stack and you rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face.

“What time are you going to call your parents?”

“Well, they’re home in Austin since I’m here and Nina is with her girlfriend’s family in Maine. So I figured around three since we’re an hour ahead. Gives them time to get up and have lunch, just relax a bit, you know?”

“Alright, gives me plenty of time to clean up. And get pants on.”

The pair of you laughed, eating while conversing about any last-minute plans that either of you might want to do, and you only asked to watch White Christmas since that was a tradition in your family. Where it started you didn’t know but that had become the Christmas tradition, regardless of any other celebrations it was the only “Christmas-y” thing and this year Marcus was going to be there for the movie stream to meet your family too.

After dishes were cleaned up Marcus joined you in the living room and handed you one of your gifts, taking one of his to rest in front of him. You almost laughed because he picked the biggest of the boxes for each of you. The Razor Crest model in your hands was amazing, you would have to assemble it but that was a good rainy-day project, and Marcus looked thrilled when he began going through the canvas prints you had purchased for him to put up. Some of them were multi-panel pieces while others were single canvas pieces, but all of them were from the students he’d taught for his undercover op.

Your next gift was a new, beefy, set of over-the-ear headphones. These had noise cancellation or you could use the ambient mode to still hear things around you, you had only briefly mentioned these to him so for him to remember? You didn’t bother to mute your delighted cheer. Marcus grinned and then fell silent at the scrapbook you’d put in a pretty gift box; you’d only made and set removable labels for the pages with activities you wanted to do together. Things like going to certain museums or traveling to other cities, all optional but just things you thought were fun and cute.

There was even a page dedicated to the city of Casablanca, it made Marcus wipe the pooling tears out of his eyes.

“You- you want to do all this? With me?”

The unspoken words broke your heart.

You see a future with me?

“Absolutely, I do, Marcus -as long as we do it together, we could change up every little thing on those pages. That’s just ideas and possibilities, we can always pick others.”

His last gift was the smallest of the boxes, and the most expensive, so when he opened it to a Cartier box you watched his eyes go wide before he was so lightly touching the face of the watch you’d chosen for him. It was vintage with a round face and black leather band, the exact one he’d been looking at when you’d gone on a date to a silent auction, and you’d been hiding it for months even before he left for the undercover op. Marcus made a little sound of disbelief and you couldn’t help but grin at him, earning a kiss so good your toes curled and you were ready to ignore the last gift of the night.

But Marcus sat you back down and handed you the box, looking so sure of himself, and when you opened it carefully you frowned at the small cardboard box that was apparently empty. Looking up and freezing at the sight of your boyfriend on one knee, your chest tightened up and the mix of joy and the small bubbling doubts after last time made your eyes water.

“Before you say anything, even if the answer is a ‘not right now’ that’s perfectly fine and it won’t hurt my feelings. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether we’re married or not, I just want you to have something to show you that I’m serious about you. You walked into my life needing help and then returned that same genuine kindness months later, you have never treated me like I’m too much and you’ve been so patient with me. I know I spent a lot of our relationship gone, which is why you do not have to say yes to this, but I want to marry you and I hope that someday you might want the same.”

“Marcus I can’t lie and say I’m not anxious about this, I am, but you know the reason why and have been patient with me through my healing process. I love you too, and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to be by your side and explore the world with you one day at a time. I know we can be amazing together, even with you gone you’ve never given me a reason to doubt you, and I would prefer a longer engagement but I’d be willing to sign the papers tomorrow since it’s you..” He slipped the band on your finger and kissed you, promising you as much time as you needed, and you said a silent prayer to whatever higher power was listening to thank them for allowing this man to cross your path when you needed him the most.

After wrapping paper clean up, fawning over gifts, and very pleasurable thank you’s were exchanged he tucked you against his side on the couch and flipped on Netflix so you could continue catching him up on the shows he’d missed while he was working and glancing at your new ring with hope and love warming your heart.

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