🛐JARED ACKLES🛐

Following them, you stopped outside Mark's home office.

You pushed the door open. Mark was leaning against his desk, arms folded, while your daughter sat on top of it, swinging her legs. Both of them were staring intently at the corkboard mounted on the wall.

Pinned in the centre was a handmade Valentine's card—a bright red card decorated with a glittery pink heart and your daughter's name written neatly underneath.

That wasn't what caught your attention.

Red string stretched from the card to four school photographs, each connected with handwritten notes, photocopies of handwriting samples, and what looked suspiciously like pieces of artwork.

"…What are you two doing?" you asked cautiously.

Both heads snapped towards you. "Mommy!" your daughter squealed.

Mark lifted her down from the desk, and she raced straight into your waiting arms. "Hi, baby." You kissed the top of her head before looking back at the evidence board. "So… what exactly are you and Daddy doing?"

She giggled. "I got a secret admirer."

"Ohhh…" You dragged the word out, your eyes drifting to Mark, who still hadn't moved from his spot beside the desk. "Is Daddy helping you figure out who it is?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "We've narrowed it down to four boys. Dylan, Noah, Bradley and Liam."

"And how," you asked slowly, "did you manage that?"

She proudly pointed at the board. "Thank-you cards. Shared drawings. Christmas cards." You blinked.

Mark answered as casually as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather. "I compared handwriting samples."

You stared at him. "Mark…"

"What?"

"She's seven."

"Exactly." He gestured dramatically towards the board. "And another seven-year-old has declared his love for her."

You laughed. "Mark, it's a Valentine's card. Not a marriage proposal."

He shook his head. "That's how it starts. One boy gets away with this, then another thinks he can, then another. Before you know it, I've got a line of boys at the front door."

You folded your arms, trying not to smile. "You are being ridiculous."

"I'm being proactive. I can't have these boys thinking they have a chance with her. Especially Dylan... or Liam."

Your daughter pointed at one of the photos. "What's wrong with Dylan?"

Mark walked over and tapped Dylan's picture. "Where do I start? He's constantly got his finger up his nose. He spells 'thank' with an 'f'." He paused dramatically. "And I once saw him eat sand."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "He was three."

"So?"

"Everyone eats something weird when they're three."

"He chose sand."

Your daughter giggled. "What about Liam?"

Mark's expression darkened immediately. "I don't trust him."

You raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust… a seven-year-old?"

"I've got a bad feeling about him."

"A bad feeling? About a child?" He nodded firmly.

"Damien from The Omen was a child."

You blinked. "You think Liam is the Antichrist?"

Mark opened his mouth. Closed it again. "…No." He thought for another second. "But I can't rule it out."

You burst into laughter. "Oh my God."

Your daughter looked between you both. "What about Noah and Bradley?"

"They're nice," you pointed out.

Mark sighed heavily. "Noah still has training wheels."

"So?"

"So he lacks commitment."

You stared at him. "…That's your reason?"

"It tells me everything I need to know."

"And Bradley?"

Mark looked almost offended. "He throws like a girl."

"Mark!"

"What?" he defended. "Athleticism matters. And he has trouble written all over him."

You shook your head, unable to stop smiling. "You were trouble when I met you."

A smug grin spread across his face. "Yeah…" He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. "…but didn't you have fun?" He winked. You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. "And that's exactly why Liam isn't an option," he added.

Your daughter sighed dramatically. "So who is it?"

Mark looked between the board and his little girl before letting out the biggest sigh of the day.

"I suppose…" He crouched until he was eye level with her. "…there is a third option." Her face lit up hopefully. "No boys until you're eighteen." She frowned. He reconsidered. "Actually… twenty-five." Another pause. "…No." He shook his head. "Thirty."

"Daddy!" she groaned.

You laughed. "Mark."

He stood, pulled the Valentine's card off the corkboard and handed it back to your daughter.

"Investigation closed." Then, after one last glance at Liam's picture, he quietly added, "…I'm still keeping an eye on him."

Mark Meachum Tag List:

@hayah84 @jaes-last-words @nuoctis @globetrotter28 @ze1nab @themidnightwitch44 @kaivxdenny @StoneyGGirl2 @Spam-love @nancymcl @blaze3023 @agentorange9595 @jensensswthrt @ladykitana90 @madelinessss @Kay8907 @bowahdean @alexxavicry @cranberrysauce666 @coventina2001 @ablondehoe @anniewinchesterr @biancalinkas @butterphii @kelseaackles @Ladysparkles78 @goldencelstialskies @itzpixiebabe @madelynneb @fatimadao28 @evangeline-catawanee @nu1freakshow @star-yawnznn @americanvenom13 @irrationalmischief @irrationalmischief @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @Palerogue1 @Dragonfly92 @punkackles @The-Fandoms-Georgie @impala67bitch @k-d--h

Also please comment or fill out the Tag List Form to be tagged with each new post. 🩵

Feel free to Ask Me Anything or Request