#poor Marcus just had no chance

[youreamonocoque]

Owen just loves being able to go after his opposite man it's so funny

[wardenparker]

The Date

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Inspired by the already beloved Teacher Ben sketch from Pedro’s SNL appearance, this fic is dedicated to every single reader with a HUGE hug and a kiss straight from me to you. Just over about two weeks ago I passed the 2k follower mark and I am so incredibly humbled by everyone’s love and encouragement. Writing makes me happier than almost anything else in the world and I am blown away by the sheer number of you who stop by my little corner of the tumblrsphere to read the words that I produce along with my beloved @absurdthirst​. There is absolutely no end to our collaborations in sight and I am thrilled to keep rolling out fun stories week after week 🧡

Rating: Explicit! 18+  Word Count: 19.9k Warnings: Age gap (reader is an adult student of unspecified age), mentions of deceased spouse, awkward flirting, reader is bad with social cues, Marcus on a Motorcycle, using superpowers for foreplay, begging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex (superhero stamina).  Summary: After spending the semester becoming friends with your criminal justice professor, retired Heroic Marcus Moreno, it appears that your crush isn’t so unrequited after all. Notes: I was very sleepy doing this edit, so I’m sorry if I missed some things.

Sometimes you really do sit through classes waiting for a cartoonish sounding bell to ring and it’s just too bad. The general education classes that you have to take really aren’t your cup of tea, even though you know you need them for your degree and really should be paying attention. But you’re not going to need chemistry when you restart your career as a high school English teacher. Nor are you going to need the complex algebra and trigonometry that stumped you the first time you went to college. And you’re probably not going to need to understand the intricacies of the criminal justice system either - but this class was a little gift to yourself. 

The hottest professor you could have ever dreamt of in a three-times-a-week lecture that frequently includes anecdotes from his legendary career as the leader of the Heroics. Since the first day of this class it’s been like a real life version of the Indiana Jones scene where undergrads have love notes written on their eyelids and leave him gifts and notes hoping for a smidgen of extra attention, and you can’t really blame them. The thing is, the poor kids don’t stand a chance. He has a daughter nearly their age and couldn’t ever shake the feeling of how young they are. Or at least that’s what he told you the first time you sat together in the student union to eating lunch together after class. Marcus is sweet. He’s charming and maybe a little insecure socially, but when he stands up in front of the class he commands attention at the drop of a hat. He’s incredibly smart - genius, even - and he doesn’t make friends easily. That’s what he told you the fourth time you had lunch together in the student union after his class was over. Which is why you’ve kept your own crush a very tightly wrapped secret for the entire semester. You’re friends now, or at least very good acquaintances, and you wouldn’t jeopardize that for the world.

But next week is the final, and once that’s over you’ll have no excuse to sit and talk about your favourite books or how crazy his daughter is driving him now that she’s fifteen and learning to drive. Last week Missy had used the word girlfriend to refer to a girl in her friend group for the very first time and Marcus had nearly hyperventilated telling you about it. You’re friends. Loose ones, at least. And if you don’t screw up your courage and say something by next week, it might all go away. And you think you might regret that even more than not graduating college The first time you went, many years ago.

Marcus sighs as he flips the tie over his hand and pulls the knot through. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he does. Why he still wears a tie, he hasn’t quite worked out, but it’s a part of his routine and made him feel a bit more like the uniform he had worn for most of his life. If you called black jeans, a tac vest and double swords a uniform. Pushing the knot up to tighten it, he glances at the clock on his nightstand and curses. “Shit.” He had promised to grab you a coffee on the way into class and he doesn’t want to fuck that up. “Get moving, Moreno.”

The city buses are remarkably punctual today, getting you to campus twenty minutes before class instead of leaving you scrambling with just a few minutes to spare, and you take your time walking to the history building where his class is held. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you get to see Professor Moreno today. It’s going to be a good day. Whether it’s a brave day is still up for debate.

Marcus has a habit of frowning as he thinks. Shuffling papers on his desk as he mentally files through the itinerary for the day as he sips on the coffee he had gotten for himself. The other one on his desk was the triple shot, two pumps vanilla, one pump one chocolate, one pump raspberry latte that you had sworn was your favorite drink at the coffee shop he always stopped by. The fact that he ordered the same thing for himself to try was not going to be mentioned, but it was good.

“Morning.” Being a commuter is a boon today. There are no other students in the classroom when you open the door, and the man you only call Marcus in private is already sitting at his desk pouring over papers. The soft green tie matches the color in his plaid shirt and you smile reflexively. He’s so stunningly handsome, especially like this.

“Morning.” Immediately, Marcus looks up from his notes, standing up right after that as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. Being a fucking idiot is what he’s being, but at least he resists rolling his eyes at himself. “I see you’re early. Wanting that coffee Huh?” He asks, grinning slightly as he pushes the extra cup towards you.

“The bus was on time today.” The way he always seems to get flustered when he’s interrupted is adorable and you bite your lip to hold back a grin. “You really didn’t have to get my drink for me…but I appreciate it.” Your friendship has been built over a semester of these small gestures, and to say you didn’t love them would be an absolute lie.

“Caffeine is medically necessary.” Marcus jokes, picking up his own cup and taking another sip. It really is good, and he’s surprised by that considering he normally just drinks coffee black.

“It’s true.” Stepping further into the room, you pull one of the chairs away from the long tables that serve as desks and set it beside his desk at the front of the room to sit with him for a few minutes. “So…” The grin you flash him is teasing, but you are probably only going to get a few more times like this with him so you want to make the most of them. “How’s Missy and her girlfriend?”

Marcus shakes his head and winces. “I’m not okay with her dating.” He huffs, nearly pouting at the idea. “She was born like six months ago.”

“I just think it’s incredible that she came out to you so easily.” According to Marcus, he had come home from a day of teaching about a year ago to find Missy icing cupcakes with rainbow frosting as her own way of breaching the topic. It had been an immensely emotional night for them both. “Teenagers get rebellious over practically everything. It’s fantastic that she trusts you enough to tell you who she is and to tell you about this girl.”

“She knows I’m not going to change the way I look at her.” Marcus shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “She’s my little girl, and if I’m honest, there were signs since she was little.”

“That’s my point though.” You reason, picking up your coffee and humming at the taste. “She knows you love her no matter what. If I had come out to my parents at that age? I would have been lucky not to end up in therapy.”

“Oh, yeah, no, nothing like that at all.” It’s funny how swiftly the little arrow of intrigue or hope quickly pierced his heart. The small crush he had developed on you over the course of the class - despite the impropriety if it - crashing down. “I’m sorry you didn’t have supportive parents like that.”

“It’s fine now.” The way his face changes makes you want to scramble to recover, unsure of what you could possibly have said to upset him when you meant to pay him a compliment. “Being bisexual wasn’t even on their radar back then. They had no idea the word even existed let alone that it applied to their little girl.” You shrug, afraid you’ve offended him by accident. “I might as well have told them I was a Martian.”

Bisexual. While Marcus doesn’t sag in relief of the clarification, the angsty guilt over inappropriate thoughts of someone who would not be interested in a man ease. “It worked for Clark Kent, right? Though he was Krytonian.” He says, sending you a small smile. “No weirder than ‘hey mom, I can manipulate metal’. Right?”

“Honestly I think that would have been easier for her.” When you shrug again, you bury your face behind your coffee cup and studiously command yourself not to get too dreamy over that smile of his. “I just…you’re doing a great job. That’s all. Don’t downplay the fact that your teenage daughter is comfortable and confident in telling you who she is.”

“I never want her to feel like she can’t come to me for anything. Even if it was a boy and…birth control.” Marcus isn’t dumb, he knows what teenagers do, he was one of them once. Despite his Heroic future, hormones did drive a lot of his actions when he was around her age.

That earns him another small laugh from you, and you lean back in your chair. “Well I say points to this girl. If Missy’s anything like her dad then she’s amazing. And that means this girl is lucky as hell.”

He shuffles slightly, trying not to take the compliment for more than what it is. Reassurance. He lifts his coffee cup to his lips again to hide the grin he can’t quite suppress. “Thanks.” He murmurs. “Although it’s been a long time for me.”

“Oh?” It’s not as though you had dug through any of the gossip about him. That would have been disrespectful. But he was a well known celebrity when his wife passed away a few years ago and he had only stopped wearing his ring recently, by the band of untanned skin on his left finger. You had never pried for information, but you’re definitely curious.

He gives a small shrug of his shoulders. The pain of losing his late wife is still there, it always will be, but it’s not as devastating as it had been in the beginning. He would always love her, but he’s still living and she’s gone. “Not since Emily.” He confirms quietly. “Avoided the entire ‘widower pity sex’ that was surprisingly being pushed on me a lot more than I ever imagined.”

“I’m sorry things were pushed on you.” It’s not necessarily for you to apologize, but you can certainly express sympathy. “Being ready to put yourselves out there isn’t something you can rush. It takes time to heal.” Which is part of why you’ve kept your feelings deeply, deeply under wraps.

“A lot of it was because I needed time to heal, I didn’t want to change Missy’s life more than it already had been, and we were navigating our grief together.” Marcus had talked about a lot of this with his therapist, but it’s nice to have someone like you he can also talk to. “Plus, I was leaving the Heroics and starting to teach.”

“Your whole life changed.” You nod slightly, head bobbing with the motion. “When it changes again should be up to you and no one else.”

“Might be time.” Marcus admits, trying not to show how much that terrifies him. “Spend more time at home alone than I do with Missy. It’s…highlighted how reclusive I’ve become.”

"Might be?" You honestly would be embarrassed if he could hear how hard that makes your heart beat. It's not like he's talking about you, but you can't help the way it makes you feel.

“I’ve….thought about dating again.” He looks around the classroom for a moment before he finally looks at you again. “Think it’s a dumb idea?” He asks softly, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. His hands are starting to dampen and he quickly slides them against his darker pants.

"Why would that be dumb?" It's baffling that he would even ask that, since he's easily the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life and an absolute angel of a human. "You deserve to be happy. Whatever that means for you. If dating against would make you happy, then..." Then you will dutifully sit and listen to him gush about whoever the luckiest woman in the world is, if he wants to stay friends. "Then whoever you choose will be incredibly lucky."

That buoys his confidence and he nods before he looks back down at his papers. “So-“

“Hey Professor Moreno!” His head snaps up to see one of the other students from your class practically bounce through the door, filled with nervous, flirty energy. He’s well aware that the girl had a crush on him and while he was flattered, she was vastly too young for him.

“Monica.” He greets her, making her beam as she slides over towards his desk. His eyes meet yours and he swears that he sees disappointment at being interrupted swimming in your orbs.

Right before the door opened you could have sworn he was going to say something to you - maybe even something sweet or flirtatious if your wildest dreams ever came true. But Monica is...determined...and she is right about to stare you down. "I should let you focus," you murmur, standing up with your coffee in one hand and your other on the back of your chair.

“You’re okay.” Marcus insists, actually more comfortable with you here rather than talking to Monica by herself. It was bad enough when she showed up for office hours. “What do you need?” He asks her, shifting into a more professional demeanor than he had with you.

"I was hoping to speak to you privately." Monica casts you a derisive glance and shifts her weight between her feet. "That's why I came early."

“Is it…about the coursework?” Marcus asks carefully. He doesn’t like the social aspect that some of the younger students try to draw him into.

"It is regarding senior week." Smoothing one hand down her front, Monica squares her shoulders and fairly glares at you. "I didn't think it would be appropriate to rub it in my classmate's face that she isn't graduating yet."

“It's fine." Even though you have no idea what you did to make Monica dislike you, you're not about to cause a fuss on the second-to-last day you might get to see Marcus. There's no room in your schedule next year to take one of his other classes and taking more criminal justice classes doesn't make any sense with your major anyway. You step back, taking your chair with you, to go put your books down at the table a few feet away.

“What can I help you with?” Marcus crosses his arms over his chest and frowns slightly. He doesn’t understand the animosity that seemingly rolls off of the younger girl towards you. It doesn’t make sense.

"As you know." Monica perks up immediately, feeling victorious at your retreat and Professor Moreno's attention being squarely on her. "Senior week always includes guests of honour from the staff and faculty." What she hopes he doesn't know is that the staff and faculty guests have already been chosen for the dinner dance. Otherwise her cover will be blown. "It would be very exciting if you would agree to come to the senior week dinner dance as a special guest." As her special guest, specifically, but Monica doesn't word it like that.

“Oh.” Marcus shuffles slightly and rocks on his heels as he looks around the classroom as he thinks about how to let this girl down. “While I am flattered…I am not able to attend.” He explains. “I am due to take my daughter to her grandparents across the state that night.”

"And it would be impossible to bring her earlier?" With a lack of understanding and empathy so obviously on display, Monica all but pouts. "It will be such a special night."

“I’m sure it will be.” Marcus frowns and his tone turns slightly frosty. “But my daughter will be getting out of school and wanting to see her mother’s parents.”

The young woman huffs, immaturity fully on display, and puts her hand on her hip like she's about to transform into a version of herself twenty years in the future that would be demanding to see his manager. "Whatever," she scoffs. "You have no idea what you'll be missing."

Marcus rocks his jaw, instantly transforming into the leader of the Heroics when he had dealt with the most stubborn of the other superhero’s. “Miss Anderson, I suggest you take your seat unless you wish to be dropped from the class.” He manages tightly. “Which will affect your own graduation date.”

The hmmphf from her is as pronounced as the pouty frown on her face, but Monica spins around, throwing you a dirty look in the process as she storms across the classroom to sit down and probably not pay much attention during this last study session Marcus will be leading.

Sighing softly, Marcus look down at the papers in front of him. Why couldn't someone just accept that a man who was old enough to be her father wasn't interested gracefully? He doesn't understand it.

His mood seems sour for the entire study session, and it’s not that you can’t understand why. Monica and the undergrad girls didn’t know how to take no for an answer, apparently. You do - at least you expect it - so you’ve just never asked the question. By the end of class you have to assume that his nerves are frayed and he won’t have the presence of mind for your usual lunch together, so you just start to pack up.

Once the class is over, Marcus looks over at you. Frowning slightly when he sees you move towards the door, he calls your name quickly. Unsure if you've changed your mind about walking to lunch together or if something has come up.

The last group of your classmates blows past you when you freeze three feet from the doorway and turn back. “I didn’t know if you’d be up to lunch,” you admit, feeling a little sheepish about it. “You seem preoccupied. I didn’t want to presume.”

"No, uh, I'm sorry." He deflates slightly and sighs. "I just- Monica." He gestures toward the door as if that explains it. "I don't understand. I'm too old for her."

“It’s a fantasy.” The way you shrug your shoulders is completely tense, like you have no intention whatsoever in admitting that you’ve had those same fantasies about him yourself. “They don’t see the reality of it. Only the glossy story they’ll tell their friends.”

"I guess." He won't deny that he had crushes on teachers and professors when he was younger, but he had never been so bold to think they would want him. "I just- I guess I think too much like a dad." He huffs at himself. "She's not that much older than Missy."

"I think that's thinking like a dad just the right amount." The door shuts behind the rest of your class and you shove your hands in your pockets with your bag high on your shoulder. "What did she...ask you? If you don't mind me asking?"

“She wanted me to go to the dinner dance as a special guest.” He picks up his own bag and tosses it on his shoulders. “Didn’t take the very polite ‘no’ very well.” He snorts. “She actually asked me if I could drop my daughter off at her grandparents another day.”

"That's...awkward." When you reach for the door handle this time it's to open it for him rather than to beat a hasty exit, and you follow him out the door. "And honestly, a little disrespectful."

“She doesn’t have to know that her grandparents live two hours away.” Marcus grins slyly, and shrugs.

"She shouldn't have been rude." The walk down the corridor is fairly quiet since the next class period has already started in this building, and you walk side-by-side with your professor one more time. "It was nice of you to try to let her down easy, even if she didn't let you, ultimately."

“I get having feelings you shouldn’t.” Marcus risks looking over at you for a second before he looks back down at the path in front of you. “For people you shouldn’t.”

“How so?” If you had seen him glance at you then you might have had some idea of what he meant, but you were busy trying not to trip over the obvious coffee spill left by a previous student.

Marcus sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he ignores the looks from the students as the two of you walk through the campus. He doesn’t see a lot of the adoration that seems to be thrown his way. “She’s…it’s not like a younger student or anything. Not like Monica.”

“Oh? Oh! You’ve been—?” You can’t help the way your whole face falls, registering that apparently he’s been seeing another student and you didn’t ever know. As fast as your silly schoolgirl crush has grown over the course of the semester, you can feel it being stamped out with every new step you take down the corridor together. “Well, she’s…she’s very lucky…” You choke out, shoving your hands into your pockets with determination.

“No! No, I haven’t - I can’t, it’s not—” Marcus groans. “She’s my student, I haven’t thought it was…appropriate to ask her out.” He rolls his eyes at himself, wondering where were those fucking balls of steel he had to have when saving the world when he needs them now. “I- it would have been wrong, right? But I have been thinking about it.”

“I mean…I guess it depends?” Even though it crushes your heart more than a little to debate this with him, he’s your friend and…and ultimately you want him to be happy. And some people might argue that that is a blaring siren for having feelings, but that’s a moot point now. “It’s the end of the semester, so…theoretically I guess it would depend on the relationship you have with this girl outside of…ya know…the classroom.”

"I think we're pretty good." Marcus inhales softly. "We've spent some time together, a lot less than I'd like, but I guess I don't know what she thinks about it."

“Then you should probably ask her.” And tonight, when you go home to pour yourself a glass of wine for studying, you’ll use your really big wine glass to mourn the passing of the chance you never got. “You can’t know unless you ask.”

"Yeah....." Fundamentally, Marcus knows that. And it's not like you are giving much away with your answers so he can't even use that to judge how you would react. "I need to, but I'm also worried about it changing things for the worse."

“I can’t see anyone turning you down,” you admit, feeling your voice drop a little and your shoulders slump. If you were brave enough to take your own advice, then you wouldn’t be walking at his side listening to him theorize about asking out another woman.

“So…..how do you feel about driving up the coast?” Marcus ventures softly. “Thought we could take a little ride, find a nice roadside spot to eat? Look out over the water.”

It takes you a long moment to register what he’s saying, but when you finally do, your head ticks up and you freeze in your steps, doing your best not to stare while you try to remember how to speak. “Wait, I— me?” You ask, so bewildered that your voice jumps and you’re pointing at your own chest. “You meant me?”

“Shit, I knew this was going to happen. You don’t- it’s okay.” Marcus quickly reassures you. “You don’t have to, I - it won’t affect your grade, they are done anyway. I- just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No! N-no, I meant— I didn’t realize you liked me, too.” And if you could bury your head in the ground in embarrassment right now, you absolutely would. “Please, you don’t…don’t take it back? I’d love to go.”

“Are you sure?” Both you and Marcus have stopped walking and he turns towards you. “I don’t- you don’t have to, I just- I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and….” He blows out a huff of laughter. “I’d like to get to know you more now that you aren’t my student.”

“I’m really sure.” If it were possible to show him exactly how much without seeming overeager - or worse, desperate - you absolutely would, but right now you’re just smiling so hard you feel like your face might split. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you too, and I…” Flustered, you end up laughing at the way the two of you stammer out insistences and reassurances, and you just nod. “Why don’t we say next weekend? Final will be over and I’ll officially no longer be your student in any way.”

“Missy will be with her grandparents.” Marcus nods. “And I’ll officially not be your professor. So there’s nothing improper about it anymore.”

“I don’t even think you’re capable of being improper.” The little tease makes you grin, knowing that you might have said it before but now it’s flirting.

Marcus flushes slightly, aware that some of his thoughts were far from proper. “You’d be surprised.” He huffs, both of you starting to walk towards the food court again.

“Oh yeah?” It seems so improbable, and you laugh softly while you walk. “Are you telling me the world’s most wholesome retired superhero has a rebellious side?”

Marcus snorts, “well, Emily was about three months pregnant with Missy when we got married…” He offers in way of proof. “And despite my mama’s objections, I still have my motorcycle.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the one who has been Clark Kent-ing this whole time?” You raise an intrigued eyebrow at him as you walk, but keep your hand stuffed firmly in your pocket so you don’t do something stupid like reach for him out of excitement. “The real Marcus is wandering hands and engine grease?” Oh god…both versions sound amazing…

Marcus smirks at the comparison and there might be a slight air of cockiness to his shrug. “There’s a difference between the public image and the private man, let’s just say that.” He offers. This is why he’s enjoyed your company, he loves being able to talk to you. No expeditions, no judgment. It’s vastly different from a lot of his other interactions with people and he loves it.

"Color me intrigued." And honestly a little turned on, but you'll keep that to yourself for now. The dining hall is just up ahead and it's just beginning to be busy, as people like you and Marcus who are filing out of your midmorning classes are lured in by the smell of lunch.

“Is that a good intrigued or have 9-1-1 on speed dial intrigued?” Marcus jokes, lunging forward to open the door for you when you both get close enough.

You knew he would get the door. He always does. In fact, he glared at you when you had tried to do it yourself a few weeks ago - as though you should certainly know better by now. “I don’t know,” you admit with a shrug. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before. It could be fun. Or it might be terrifying.”

“Wellllllll, that was kinda the plan, if you want.” Marcus admits, a slightly boyish grin on his face. “Have you wrap your arms around me and hang on while we ride.”

“No dress. Got it.” Wrap your arms around him and hang on? Apparently when this man flirts he has the ability to make you weak in the knees and nearly pout with just a few sentences. “I have a very definite feeling that I’m going to like motorcycles.”

Marcus can’t help the slightly dirty way his grin turns. “Better than a washing machine.” He hums.

“Marcus!” The scandalized laugh that makes it out of you is practically giddy to see this side of him and you stick close to his side once you’re in the bustling main dining hall. “Maybe I do want to wear a dress, in that case.”

Marcus chuckles and looks over the options for the day and then at you. “What are you feeling today?” He asks. “They have that grilled chicken salad you like.”

“And they have gyro today,” you point up at the menu and offer him a shy smile, Realizing for the first time how much he’s really absorbed about you personally over the course of the semester. “Just try telling me that’s not your favorite. I dare you to lie.”

“Only because you start singing that song every time I sit down with it.” Marcus huffs, flushing slightly.

“‘Holding Out for a Gyro’ is the best parody song ever written.” You shrug your shoulders proudly. “Sorry, Weird Al. I win this one.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “And it’s funny every time I hear it.” He enjoyed the playful banter between the two of you. “If it’s aided by a delicious meal? That makes it even better.”

“Then I think we’ve got to do it.” He’s so relaxed now, and you wonder how many times when you were in line like this or sitting with coffee, did he feel the tension of attraction the same way you did? It’s a relief to know it wasn’t one sided after all. “For old time’s sake.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus shoots you a smirk, and nods towards your line. “Meet you at the table we normally have?” It’s not an assigned table, but the corner table is rarely occupied when you have lunch together.

"Absolutely." To have anything be both of yours sends a shiver of excitement through you and you try not to giggle or anything similarly giddy. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Making his way over to the correct station, he can’t help but seek you out. Telling himself that it’s just because he wants to make sure you aren’t waiting for him for too long, he can’t help but grin when your eyes find him and you smile.

You tell yourself that the butterflies are because it’s new, and because new is exciting. It’s not because you’re expecting anything, or even know if the date will go well. But your instincts are good and your intuition is worth listening to - and that gut you’ve spent years cultivating is telling you that this could be the start of something amazing if you let it.

You get your salad before Marcus gets his own food, making him watch you as he walks towards the table where you are already settling in. “Do you need napkins?” You always forget them and it’s a little habit that he has developed to grab more.

“You know I do.” He’s attentive. It’s something you’ve grown to appreciate about him during the time you’ve been getting to know him. “Just like I know you didn’t grab a fork and you’re going to regret it when that wrap gets messy halfway through.” The Extra fork on your tray is ready and waiting just like the extra napkins on his.

“Look at us playing to each other’s weaknesses.” Marcus chuckles, knowing that he will be using the fork. He always does and yet every time he doesn’t get one when the utensils are next to the napkins.

“I like to think of it as paying attention.” You counter, moving things around your tray to get it set up just the way you like. “We’ve both found each other worth paying attention to.”

“At least you also paid attention in class.” Marcus snorts, opening up the cup of extra tzatziki sauce he always asks for, along with extra pickled red onions. “You have one of the top five grades. Seriously, you should pursue criminal justice.”

“It would be a hell of a gear change from teaching high school English.” The cup of vinaigrette that comes with your chicken salad is unceremoniously dumped into the container and you pop the lid back on to shake it up and get everything evenly coated. “I honestly took the class because I love mysteries so much. I thought taking something about fighting crime would be fun.” You hadn’t even known who was teaching it when you signed up. Finding out you had Marcus for a professor was a delightful surprise.

“I think it’s a good idea to have everyone take at least one class.” Marcus knows you know this. It was basically his opening speech to his class. “Knowing about our system is necessary.”

"I completely agree." The discussions about how neither of you understand the resistance to understanding how the country you live in works have happened a few times over the last few months, usually in regard to a classmate saying something ignorant or someone illustrating a cultural difference between the US and the culture they grew up in. Discussions could either feel like you were banging your head against a wall or you could learn something truly interesting.

“So..” Marcus looks over at you as he scrapes the rest of the sauce out onto his gyro. “Are you ready for the summer? Or are you taking more courses?” He knows you are working towards your degree while working, so he’s not sure how it looks for you.

"I have a second job lined up for the summer. I'll keep busy and pocket as much money as I can." Working through the busy summer tourist season has always treated you well, and the company you work with has no problem accommodating your class schedule or your other job. "I'm on track to graduate next year as long as I don't run into a problem with any of my senior classes, so I'll spend my summer working and trying to get ahead in my reading if any of my professors are willing to hand out their reading lists early." It was the first email you always sent to a professor - asking if they wouldn't mind sending a reading list to you ahead of the start of the semester - and usually it helped establish you as a serious student early on. Being a slow reader meant you had to be prepared.

“Let me know what classes you are taking and I’ll be able to tell you what most of them have set out.” Marcus offers. “It’s good to have a jump on things.” It’s not just an offer because you’re going out on a date with him. He would offer it to any serious student. Just many of them hadn’t wanted to go beyond the unsubtle flirting.

“I’m a slow reader.” You shrug, digging your fork into your salad. “Taking a lot of classes that require extensive reading. Especially next year.” The first bite of your lunch is bright and crisp and refreshing as always, and you just let yourself enjoy it for a minute while you chew. “What about you?” You ask, tilting your head at him. “Any big summer plans with Missy?”

“Missy’s going to be with her grandparents most of the summer.” Marcus admits, hating that he will miss her, but she needs to spend time with Emily’s family. He was always welcomed, but he wanted her to bond with them without having dad hanging around.

“Oh?” He looks like he’s not thrilled with the idea, but you know how much he loves his daughter and he’s probably just aware of how much he’ll miss her - something you can’t blame him for in the least. That does, however, leave your mind open to think about very specific things…like spending the night together without having to worry about preteen eyes or ears.

“Yeah. So I’m going to be doing a lot of reading by the pool.” Marcus predicts. “Retirement from the Heroics left a lot of downtime that I hadn’t expected when I went into teaching.”

“It sounds relaxing, at least.” Would you kill to see Marcus lounging lazily, sunbathing shirtless with a book and a beer on any random summer day? It sounds like a dream. “If you want a change of scenery, sometimes the country club I work at gives us guest passes on slow days. You could read by a different pool if you wanted to?”

“So you’re inviting me to sit by your pool…” Marcus grins. “How good are your piña coladas?”

“Marcus I’m a bartender.” You pretend to be scandalized but just end up giggling when you take a sip of your drink. “My piña coladas are flawless, thank you very much.”

“I guess I will have to try them for myself.” Marcus teases, sending you a small wink. “Have you serving me frozen beverages all summer?”

"In my extremely sexy polo shirt and khaki shorts." The snort he gets from you is pure amusement, but the way you're smiling is so very, very pleased. Having him actively flirt with you is turning into a happy little puddle. "You'd be the only one actually allowed to leer."

“I will keep all my leering respectful.” He promises playfully. “Although you might be embarrassed to have such an old man flirt with you in public, even if you are used to it all the time.”

"If you're hanging out at the club this summer, then I'm assuming it will be because we've decided to keep seeing each other." And that thought alone makes you nearly giddy. "In which case I will be proud to have you respectfully leering while I work."

Marcus hums and picks up his gyro. “Then we will have to see if we are as good outside of ‘just friendly’ as I think we will be.” He tells you before he takes his first bite and groans at the flavors.

"I guess we will." You grin at him, forking up another bite of your lunch, and barely keep yourself from outright giggling. Next week can't come fast enough.

******

The nerves that come with getting ready for a ‘first date’ for the first time in nearly twenty years catches Marcus off guard. Panicking in the shower as he wonders if he’s made the date too casual, too presumptuous. What if you hate motorcycles? Should he just have made reservations somewhere? He runs through every single scenario in his mind until he’s nearly jittery.

He has no way of knowing that you've been sitting giddily in your apartment - busying yourself here and there with cleaning or changing your outfit four times or staring at the first page of a new book for a half hour and only reading the same sentence over and over again because you're too excited to focus. As seven o'clock ticks closer and closer, there is just less and less chance of you concentrating on anything except thinking of Marcus.

The ride over to your apartment complex is easy and surprisingly quick. You don’t live too far away from him and the implications that spring from that have him reminding himself that it’s just the first date. Swinging his leg over the bike as he shuts it off, he smirks to himself as he looks back at the helmet he had strapped to the back for you to wear. It’s a gorgeous evening for a ride and the setting sun in a few hours would look amazing as you cruise along the coast.

You practically jump when the buzzer goes off, beating a hasty route from the bathroom mirror - where you were quadruple checking the claim that your new lipstick is transfer-proof - to the hall. “Hello?” Trying to sound carefree instead of out of breath, your voice pitches up one too many octaves when you press the button to answer.

“Hey.” Marcus grins at how breathless you sound, wondering if you are just as nervous as he is. “Can I come up, or do you want me to wait down here?” If you decide to just come down, that’s completely your choice and he won’t judge you either way.

"Come on up!" Having decided thirty seconds ago to change your shoes from flats to boots for the sake of the bike you hope he brought, you push the buzzer to let him in and scramble to your bedroom to grab your knee-high boots.

Marcus grins, opening the door and deciding to take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator since you are only on the second floor. Eager to see you and get the date started. The only reason there aren’t flowers in his hand, is because they wouldn’t survive the ride over but maybe the one flower he does have silk charm you.

The knock on your door comes barely two minutes later and you've barely zipped up your boots when you answer it. Marcus has always dressed up for his time on campus, but today he has a leather jacket thrown over his untucked green button-up and boots peeking out from under his jeans where he would normally wear Oxford. The difference is slight, but it's mouthwatering. "Hey." One little word, but it's all you can manage when you're grinning from ear to ear like a lunatic. "Come on in."

“Hey.” He wipes his hands on his pants, slightly nervous as he steps inside. It’s been a long time since he’s been on a date and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. “You look great. Like really good.” He compliments.

“So do you.” He’s so obviously nervous that it makes you smile, relaxing in the moment when you remember how long it’s been for him. Having you be equally nervous isn’t going to help him at all. “Let me just grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Marcus clears his throat and reaches into the pocket of his riding jacket. “So flowers, fresh beautiful ones, are standard for a first date - but they wouldn’t have survived the ride over.” He offers as he pulls out the lone metal rose he had brought you. “So I hope you aren’t disappointed by this.”

“Marcus…” Twisted and pulled from glossy metal into the form of a single blooming rose, the bud is a gorgeous example of artistry all on its own. It speaks to care because it’s so delicate, and an eye for beauty, and you gasp softly when you accept it from his hands. “It’s stunning.”

“I made it.” Why did he just volunteer that? He huffs slightly at his fucking inability to act like a normal man for just one second. “It’s- yeah, I just wanted you to have a flower.”

“Just because you don’t wear a uniform anymore, that doesn’t change who you are as a person.” It’s part of why you like him so much, if you’re honest with yourself. His being a hero isn’t all about his powers. He is fundamentally a good man.

“That’s very true.” He likes the fact that you have a very practical mindset about it. Some wouldn’t and it just means you are even more special than he had anticipated.

Out on the sidewalk in front of your building, his bike is easy to spot. The lone motorcycle in a parking lot of practical and family vehicles, it practically screams to be noticed and you love it. “I was hoping you were serious about bringing it.”

“Good.” Marcus practically beams at giddiness in your eyes. “It’s been a while since I’ve had time to go for a ride and figured it would be the perfect evening for it.”

“Absolutely perfect.” You couldn’t agree more, happily taking the second helmet from the back of his bike when he hands it to you.

Once you are as safe as you can be, Marcus straddles the bike and pulls it off the standing peg. “Get on behind me and hang on as tight as you want.”

“Dangerous thing to say to the woman who’s had a crush on you for the better part of five months.” The gentle laugh as you carefully climb into the back of the bike and wrap your arms around him is mostly teasing - but only mostly. Because you’d been lusting after him on TV for a lot longer than that.

Marcus chuckles as he starts the bike with a loud roar. Maybe showing off just slightly. He has backed into the parking spot so he can just take off with the twist of his wrist and he grins at the bubble of giggling that bursts out behind him as your arms tighten instinctively.

It’s a quick zip from your building to the Pacific Coast Highway. No more than a few minutes in the residential area puts you out enjoying the Southern California’ coastal salt air instead of smog. Each turn he takes hits right in the pit of your stomach and brings another bubble of giggles from your throat and you just hope he can hear them over the roar of the engine. Even if the night was just this - just riding around with him as your anchor - you would completely love it.

Marcus doesn’t try to speed and break your neck as he coasts along the Highway. This is about the leisure of the trip. Enjoying the scenery and he can feel you gasp when he takes one hand off the handlebars to point out some whales breaching just off the rocky coast.

It’s silly. It’s silly to worry. You’re with one of the world’s only literal superheroes. Nothing is going to happen to you. But you still clutch him a little bit tighter whenever he lets go of the handlebars to point. The smile on his face is free and easy and he seems to love the gasps from your lips, so you don’t bother feeling embarrassed. If you were nervous it’s already melted away. Being with Marcus is easy.

He doesn’t know how long you cruise, maybe an hour, hour and a half before he throttle down slightly. “When you see somewhere you want to eat, let me know!” He turns his head back towards you and shouts it so you can hear.

A little further up the road, a brightly painted seafood shack with a cartoon lobster wearing a captain’s hat on its sign. “Right there!” You call through the engine and wind noise, barely letting go of him long enough to point. It looks unpretentious and like it hasn’t changed owners or gimmicks in decades. Perfect for your breezy, relaxed evening ride.

“Okay.” Marcus immediately slows down more, letting go of the handle bars again to give the signal for his turn as he guides the two of you into the parking lot.

You could swear you’re still vibrating when he cuts the engine and your feet are on solid ground again, but it’s not rattling or uncomfortable. It’s like a very tangible adrenaline buzz running all through your body and - yes, definitely shooting right between your legs.

“You okay?” Marcus asks as soon as he takes off his own helmet and sets it down on the back of the bike. It might not be cool to some to wear protection, but he’s got his daughter to think of. And despite his best efforts at trying to stay inconspicuous, sometimes he was photographed in public, not the example he wants to set for the younger generations.

“That was amazing.” The shit-eating grin on your face promises that you’re not lying, and you let him gently unbuckle your helmet to lift it away and set it with his as you stand up.

“Well, why don’t we have whatever tickles our fancy and then we can find a shaved ice place or ice cream stand?” He offers.

"Sounds pretty perfect." A dressed down night like this - something that's more about who you're with than what you're doing - is exactly the right kind of first date to you.

“Good.” His hand finds your back, up under your jacket by sheer coincidence as he moves you towards the small shack. “Maybe we can eat outside?” He offers.

"Why eat by the ocean if you can't see the water at the same time?" His hand is warm through the thin material of your dress and you unconsciously shift closer to him as you walk inside.

“My thoughts exactly.” Marcus grins. “Order a beer if you want, I’m going to have a soda since I’m the one driving.”

The place is simple - just a window with a huge menu board over it where you place your order and a counter a few yards down where you can pick up your filled order when your name is called. Tables inside are simple plastic with matching chairs, and outside there are picnic tables to extend the seating by another dozen or so tables. A plate of fish tacos and local beer sounds like the most Californian meal you've eaten in a long time, and perfect for tonight.

“God, everything smells so good.” He groans, practically drooling at the menu board. “Do you want to get a bunch of things and split them?” He asks.

"You're on." By the time you get up to the window to order you've picked out three or four things that sound amazing - not the least of which is the fish tacos which are marked on the menu as award winning. Your beer will be on the tray when it comes up but Marcus is given a cup for his soda and is pointed toward the drink fountain while you wait.

"What kind goes best with what we ordered?" He hums playfully as he surveys the soda options. There are a few but he's just playing around, seeing if you will point out your favorite. His theory is that you would take a sip of it if he picks that one. So you just aren't drinking beer.

“Hmmmm.” Pretending to think excruciatingly hard about it, you shrug your shoulders playfully and tap the Sprite logo currently staring you in the face. “It’s a palate cleanser,” you reason when he raises one eyebrow to ask for an explanation. “Bright, citrusy, sweet but not as heavy as Mountain Dew or root beer.” It’s also your favorite, but he doesn’t need to know that. Having a favorite soda is silly at your age.

"Good choice." Marcus actually agrees with your assessment and immediately starts adding ice so he can fill the cup with Sprite. "Kind of like having white wine with chicken or beer with chicken wings." He grins and winks at you as he fills the cup.

“The extremely low rent version of that,” you laugh though, leaning against the counter as he fills his cup. “But I like the low rent versions of things. Just because something is fussier doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better.”

"I always believe there are times to be fancy and then there are times to just be...happy." Marcus shrugs. "I figured that the first date should be easy and light, not stuffy in a fancy restaurant where we are bored to death and unable to find things to eat that we can pronounce."

"Now that is a theory I can get behind entirely." You snag him a paper straw from the container next to the drink dispenser and send him one of those winks that he seems so fond of, just to be playful. "Although I do speak passable Italian."

"You do?" That is new information and he's delighted to learn that. It's charming to know that about you and he grins as he nods. "I can see it. Have you traveled to Italy?"

"I never got to." It's a regret, to be sure, but you made up your mind a while ago to not let those things drag you down anymore. It's been too long. "The first time I was in college, I was an art history major. Most of my focus was on the Italian Renaissance, so Italian was kind of necessary."

“I see.” Marcus nods. “Maybe you will be able to visit once you have your degree.” He offers, knowing that traveling to foreign countries is important.

"Once I have my degree this time, I hope I'll be able to find a good job." The best you can really do is shrug, pretending that you hadn't had to set aside several lifelong dreams when you dropped out of college the first time around. As short a life as it had been then, you've always been a dreamer. "It's okay." Not wanting to bring the mood down, you offer him a sunny smile and turn to wait for his name to be called at the counter. "I'll get there someday."

"I don't doubt it for a second." Marcus promises you with a smile. You are tenacious and he knows you will make it happen for yourself. "How many more of your classes are you shy of graduating?" He asks, as he stands beside you.

"Seven." It sounds like so much and so little all at once, and you stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket to resist the insane urge you have to hold his hand. "One more full year, basically. But I have a spot open in case I don't pass something this semester and need to retake."

"That's a smart thing to do." He is impressed with the way that you are thinking ahead. "Sometimes you don't pass the first time around, I know I couldn't pass my freshman statistics course to save my life."

“I took Intro to Botany for my science general ed thinking it would at least be interesting.” But from your cringe, he can tell that that isn’t true. “It turned out to be both insanely difficult and insanely boring. Which is a shame.”

"Yeah...." Marcus shakes his head. "I'm not the biggest fan of that class." He doesn't like professor Issacs, but you don't need to know that. He's never particularly cared for him, finding him pompous and egotistical without contributing much to the faculty. He seemed to make the course load harder for his students than it needed to be.

“Well, if Isaacs decides to flunk me, it’ll be Earth Sciences in fall, instead.” Which you probably should have done in the first place, but hindsight is 20/20 and all that. “How’s your grading looking? Staring down the barrel of a hundred and fifty tests and papers?”

"I actually have it down to a science." Marcus tells you with a small grin. "I should be done with grading by Sunday at the latest."

“Look at you, Professor Smarty Pants. You’ll have to teach me your tricks if I ever actually become a teacher.” You tease, grinning when the girl behind the counter calls his name, looks up, and recognizes him.

“Moreno?” She asks, stunned and wide eyes. “Marcus Moreno?” Her voice manages to go up several octaves. “I- oh my god!”

Taking his drink and grabbing some napkins and utensils is the most helpful thing you can do, and you watch with a smile as Marcus shakes the girl’s hand and chats with her for a second before grabbing the tray with your dinner. He’s in his element with people - any kind of people - and you always get a warm sort of pride whenever you’re with him when he’s recognized. Despite having no claim on him but friendship, you’re still proud of him.

Marcus listens to the girl gush, he had apparently saved her about five years ago, right before he had quit going out into the field with the other Heroics. Making him recall the incident and he smiles as she thanks him for what he had done, shaking his head and claiming that it had been nothing. Grateful that you aren’t annoyed that he’s having time taken away from the date. When he finally comes back over to you, he gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You push the door open to go outside and let him go through first with the tray. “You’ve saved people's lives. You saved that girl’s life. That’s no small thing. Not at all.”

“It’s bad, but I don’t remember her.” Marcus feels guilty, but it’s the truth. There were a lot of people that day.

“And she never has to know that.” There is one picnic table closer to the water than the others, and you both move toward it instinctively. “I can’t imagine you remembering every person you ever saved. But I’m sure they'll all remember you for the rest of their lives.”

“It’s daunting.” Marcus admits. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I don’t crave attention.” He snorts. “I’m not Miracle Guy.”

“No one is.” You smirk, knowing Miracle Guy’s reputation for tooting his own horn.

Marcus chuckles at your expression and shrugs slightly. “He’s got quite the fan club.”

“And he loves it. But fame isn’t everyone’s first choice.” At the table you set everything out between you and sit side by side so you can both look out over the water while you eat. “For what it’s worth? I like you just as you are.”

“Well thank you.” Marcus moves your beer over to you and grins. “While we eat, maybe you can tell me why you chose teaching?”

“Have we never talked about that?” He shakes his head when you ask and you pop the cap off your beer. “Teaching was always on my radar.” You tell him, figuring that’s the best place to start. “I thought about teaching art, originally. But when I was taking care of my mom…the thing that she had the most energy for was books. We would read together constantly, until it was just me reading to hear and we would talk about every chapter and every book together. It was our own private book club, and I fell in love with literature all over again.”

"I like that." Marcus hates the fact that it seems like your mother is gone, he can't even imagine losing his mother right now although his father died when he was twelve, but he reaches out and takes your hand. "I'm sure that those memories are the ones that she cherished the most." He murmurs softly.

It’s not exactly the way you wanted it to happen - out of sympathy instead of excitement - but you look down at his large hands covering yours and smile. “She was my best friend,” you tell him, aware that your voice has dropped a little. “And I just hope I’m making her proud.”

“Doing exactly what you want to do and living your life how you want to live it is exactly what would make a parent proud.” He knows not all parents subscribe to that, but he feels like your mother would, considering how you’ve turned out.

“Thanks.” You shake your head, almost trying to release the cobwebs from the corners of your mind. “Sorry…I…I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“You’re not bringing the mood down.” Marcus assures you, almost instantly. “Talking about our lives and what has happened is learning about each other. It’s the human condition that none of us are without personal tragedy.”

“I suppose.” Not wanting to let go just yet, you take a sip of your drink with your other hand. “Although most men would not feel that way on a first date. So thank you for being your compassionate self.”

“I am no stranger to things like this.” Marcus reminds you softly. “Do you know how many people hit on me at my wife’s funeral? And then didn’t understand why I was angry at them?”

“Are you serious?” The worst part is that you can imagine it. People offering to comfort the grieving widower with varying degrees of subtlety and lewdness. “That’s…that’s despicable, Marcus. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done.” Marcus rubs his thumb in the back of your hand gently. “But I’ve learned that there are really good people in the world too, and you’re one of them.” He tells you with a soft smile.

“I really like you.” Though it comes out inelegantly, and you can feel your cheeks burn when you fear it, the sentiment is honest. “I mean…obviously. Since I’m here with you. But I guess I mean…I’m glad that you feel that way. Because the time that I’ve been able to spend with you is the happiest that I’ve been in a really long time.”

"That's good." He lights up, grinning broadly and can't quite hide the way his chest puffs out slightly at your praise of him and the time you have spent together. A lot of it has been innocent but it's a building block for what he wants. More.

With the air slightly clearer between you, you dig into your dinner with enthusiasm. The little roadside seafood shack is playing with no less than its A-game so everything is fresh and delicious. The sea is calm, treating you to crisp breezes and the occasional creature-sighting, and little joke after little joke piles up to have you both in a fit of giggles by the time the meal winds down. In your entire life a first date has never been this relaxed or fun, and you're starting to think that maybe you've just been dating the wrong people all along.

Marcus leans back and sighs. “Well, want to continue on and find our dessert stand?” He asks playfully, rubbing his stomach. “Or do you not have room?”

"There is always room for dessert." You tell him, with an air that you're giving some kind of sage wisdom. "Especially cold desserts on warm nights." It will be sundown soon and the mid-May sun is only just starting to lose power. "Do you know a place or are we driving until we find one?" Either way is fine with you. Either way is time spent with him.

“I’m kinda winging it.” Marcus admits with a grin. “Trying to be more spontaneous? Missy said I shouldn’t plan everything out like I do normally.”

"You told Missy?" Admittedly, you had been afraid to ask if he was going to or not, knowing that his relationship with his daughter means the world to him. You wouldn't have been surprised or offended if he had chosen to hold off on telling her about you until it became more serious. The fact that he did - that you seem to be important enough to him to have her know about you - floods you with warmth and joy.

“She’s the one that told me I needed to stop…how did she put it? “Being a wuss’  and ask you out.” He chuckles as he stands from the table and picks up the tray that you’ve both deposited all the trash from your dinner onto. He’ll throw it away and return the tray before getting back on the bike with you.

"Your daughter and my roommate." You can't help but chuckle a little, walking with him to the trash bins to chuck your beer bottle in the recycles. "Well...I'm glad one of us listened to our advice giver. I'm pretty sure I would have been too chicken when push came to shove."

“I was half convinced that I was making up the entire thing in my head.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at himself. “That maybe you just felt sorry for me and that’s why you ate lunch with me.”

"Not at all." The fact that he thought it, though, shows his humility. "Actually, at first I thought the reverse. That you were taking pity on your weird student who was older than everybody else by being friendly."

“God no.” Marcus breathes out. “You saved my sanity. Having someone who was understanding that it’s insane for all these girls to be wanting me?” He rolls his eyes. “There’s a group of them that started calling me ‘daddy’ and I just-“ he shrugs and laughs in that defeated and disbelieving kind of way. “Why?”

When you snort to keep from bursting out laughing, you can only hold up your hand to apologize. “Marcus, it’s because you’re hot. A sexy guy in a position of authority with a nurturing personality is a recipe for being a daddy.”

“But…I—” He trails off and his eyes widen slightly in realization. “Dear God.” He huffs after a long moment of silence.

“It’s a compliment,” you promise, looping your arm around him and hugging him while you desperately try to keep the laughter inside. “A slightly weird one, but a compliment nonetheless.”

“They do realize that I would never actually….date them, right?” He asks. “It would be so wrong.” Most of his class are seniors but the age gap widens every year and now there’s only three or four years between the freshman class and his daughter.

“The reasonable ones do. The less reasonable ones don’t care. That’s not the point.” Together you walk back around the tiny restaurant and out to the parking lot, but Marcus doesn’t move away from you so you keep your hand on him while you go. “They’ll get it out of their systems eventually and then you won’t have to hear it anymore. Besides, I think the ringleaders of that particular nickname are all graduating this year.” One of them was Monica, you know that for sure. But she’ll be graduated and gone in no time.

“Hopefully.” Marcus looks over at you, “although I wouldn’t mind a certain former student dropping by sometimes when she has time.” He teases.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, unable to resist screwing with him just a little. “I’ll let Monica know. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

“Do it and you’ll buy your own ice cream.” Marcus threatens playfully. He doesn’t mean it, but the idea of Monica haunting his office hours after graduation is almost enough to make his time by virtual connection only.

“That’s a very serious threat, you know.” You’re giggling when you make it to his bike, practically doubled over with it just from the mortified look on his face. “Of course I’ll drop by office hours. How else am I going to say hi?” Doing your best not to count on anything - or to get your hopes up too high - you have ended up just sort of assuming that he won’t want to go on another date after tonight. That it will be too weird for him or you won’t be as good as what he has built up in his mind before now. It’s helping to keep your expectations grounded, because your hopes are already imagining what it will be like to get to know his daughter.

“Welllllllll, I guess we could communicate through mirrors and reflections, smoke signals, or pigeon carriers.” Marcus snorts. “But I was hoping it would include the occasional phone call, or visit in person. I’ll even text.”

"I would pay money to see Missy teaching you how to text." That starts up the giggles again, but in a much more lighthearted way. "Look, Marcus..." You manage not to sigh, thank god, but your tone does trend a bit more serious. All fears aside for you, you know that he hasn't dated in an extremely long time and deserves some reassurance. "I told you that I really like you and I meant it. So if you decide you want to keep seeing me after tonight? I'm a commitment girl. So dropping by your office with snacks or to spend some time together will be a given."

“I know how to text.” Marcus grumbles, pouting at you slightly. “I just don’t. There’s no inflection. And how can I convey emotion?” He reaches out to take the helmet you had worn off the back of the bike to put it back on you. “I think this date is going really well, how about you?” He asks. “So I don’t know why I wouldn’t want to see you again.”

"If I tell you that I'm having a great night but trying not to set my expectations too high, do I get to see that cute pout again?" The fact that he sets the helmet on you and buckles it in place so he knows you're safe is about the cutest thing ever.

Just to get you to grin again, he does the pout again. Holding it for a few seconds before he shakes his head in disappointment. “And here I was thinking that you should set the expectations sky high.” He rumbles dramatically.

'My hopes are sky high," you assure him, feeling daring enough to reach out and touch his arm again even if it's only briefly. "But I know this is a big step for you, so I didn't want you to feel pressured."

“I don’t.” He promises, reaching up and chucking your chin softly before he glances down at your lips. “Not at all. Although there’s some pressure, it’s not something you have to worry about unless you want to.”

"What do you mean?" Tilting your head to one side, you don't miss the way he glances down at your lips, though the innuendo goes straight over your head.

He chuckles quietly and lets go of your chin. “I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.” He teases, turning back and grabbing his own helmet. “Let me know when you got it worked out.”

"Well that's not fair." It's your turn to pout now, just as playfully. "I have no talent for double meanings, if my roommate is to be believed."

“Really?” He turns back around and smirks at you. “If you don’t figure it out by the time I drop you off at your place, I’ll let you in on the pressure.”

"You're enjoying this too much." But it's amusing rather than anything else, and you nudge him playfully.

“Maybe a little.” He chuckles as he climbs back on the bike and motions you over. “Climb back on, sweetheart.”

If teasing you is what keeps that smile on his face then you are all for it. You just shake your head to make him laugh again and swing your leg back over the back of his bike. Your arms slide easily around his waist this time with no hesitation in the thing, and you giggle all over again when the engine roars to life.

“Want to go a little faster this time?” Marcus yells over his shoulder.

"Go for it!" There's no question you'll be safe with him, and the adrenaline from the ride is definitely worth it, so you just hold on a little tighter.

“Hang on!” Marcus laughs as he kicks the peg up and twists the throttle of the bike hard enough to lurch you out of the parking spot and make you squeal in surprise.

Back on the highway Marcus picks up the pace, moving you through traffic with expert handling and a fearlessness that goes straight past anything worrying and directly to being such a damn turn on.

This time there’s less talking, more wind buffering around you. Marcus loves the feeling of it, having spent plenty of time wishing he had the skill of flying like Miracle Guy, but this is a close second. He grins as you squeeze him tight and he lets go of one handlebar to cover your hands with his own as he carries you further up the coast.

The colors of sunset are just starting to appear on the horizon when Marcus points out a sign for an ice cream stand up ahead. His hand has been warm on yours whenever it's been safe for him to have it there, and you could swear that the warmth radiating off of him in waves has changed somehow. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Throttling down, he pulls into the parking lot of the ice cream stand, happy that it seems moderately busy on this beautiful night. Even better, there’s benches facing the ocean to sit and eat. “Now are you a sundae kind of girl or a cone?” He asks playfully.

"Yes to both," you laugh honestly. You both take off your helmets and pop off the bike to stretch your legs, but stick close to each other while other people bustle around having fun. "But tonight feels like a cone night. Much easier for sitting and watching the water with."

“I agree.” Marcus can’t help but touch you again, keeping his hand on your back again. “Figure once we finish up here, we’ll turn around and start heading back to L.A. Don’t want you too sore from riding too long.”

"Sure. We got a perfect night for a few more hours of driving." Though you have no desire to see the night end, you're not trying to monopolize every second of his time. Or at least you wouldn't admit to wanting it. For now you just keep close and lean into his side a little as you stroll toward the stand overlooking the water.

“It’s also a good reason to stop at these stands.” He looks over at you and smirks. “If you aren’t used to it, it’s a real workout on your hips and thighs.”

"Some things are worth being sore for." It's amazing the way you miss even your own innuendo, but there it is. The words don't even register a second meaning on their way out of your mouth.

Marcus waits a beat for you to smirk, but you don’t. Giving credence to your claim that you don’t get secondary meanings. “Yep.” He chuckles. “Let’s figure out what ice cream we want.”

"I'm going to guess...pistachio for you." You glance up at him when you get into line and raise an eyebrow. "Or Rocky Road? Something classic."

“Actually…” Marcus smiles as he glances at the list of flavors. “I was thinking the sinful Caramel truffle swirl.” He admits.

"Ooh, we're going for something fancy tonight." It might be the mood or the sunset, but he is just remarkably handsome tonight. "Sounds tasty."

“You always go fancy with ice cream.” Marcus laughs. “Or red velvet, peanut butter cup mashup?”

"Red velvet and caramel swirl mash up?" Suddenly it's a game, playing with pairings, and his hand on your back has slipped to your waist making you feel giddy like you're still flying on that bike with him.

“Orrrr the banana flavored ice cream with peanut butter, chocolate chips and caramel swirl?” He asks, nearly drooling at the combinations they offer.

"The Elvis. Always a classic." All it's missing is bacon, and you would absolutely use that as a sundae topping. "I say we pick two and swap halfway through. Best of both worlds."

Marcus grins slowly and nods. “Sounds like a plan to me.” His fingers tighten on your waist slightly as you both turn back towards the window and step up to order. “Ladies first.” He murmurs to you.

You end up ordering coffee cookies and cream and Marcus gets the Elvis-inspired concoction that had him drooling, and within minutes you’re scouting for a place to sit in the small army of benches overlooking the water. The pinks, purples, and orange in the sky are a watercolor collage of the perfect sunset, and the smattering of other couples who also chose to stop here on their dates have given the place a more romantic feel than a little seaside ice cream stand probably ever would ever have on its own.

“Sooooo.” Marcus guides you over to the benches, the girl behind the window assuring them that they will bring the ice cream to you. “How is the view?” He asks, sitting down besides you and offering his hand. If you want to take it, you have the option.

“I think it might be my new favorite.” In fact, you’re so busy admiring his profile against the colorful sky that you almost miss his proffered hand. Almost. But you slip your hand into his larger one with a shy smile, relishing the simple intimacy.

Marcus isn’t looking at the sunset. Instead his eyes are on you. “Mine too.” He promises, curling his fingers around yours protectively.

“Yeah?” You’re both the same kind of sappy, it seems, and the smile on your face widens immeasurably. Your cheeks are going to ache from it tomorrow but you couldn’t care less. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He grins but doesn’t say anything else, just letting both of you settle back and watch the light play over the water. His hand doesn’t leave yours and he sighs softly. “The view of the water is nice too.”

A laugh - small and breathy - cracks your dreamy expression and you manage to thank the teenage girl who brings over your ice cream when she arrives a moment later. “Yes,” you grin at him, nearly giggling. “The water is nice, too.”

The first bite of the creamy, sweet ice cream makes Marcus moan, rolling his eyes back. “Holy shit.” He groans, taking another lick of the confection. “I know we’re trading but you have to try this now.” Having the perfect dessert almost makes up for having to let go of your hand. Almost.

“That good?” You ask, and he nods when he holds it out to you. It’s messier than you're proud of, that first taste, but you groan right along with him and let your eyes float shut happily. “Holy shit, it is that good.”

“Right?” He’s practically giddy as he takes another bite of it happily. “This is definitely a place to come back to again one night.”

“Absolutely.” The first bite of your own cone is just as good, and you moan again happily. “If it’s all this good then we’ll have to come back with Missy.”

“Missy will insist on it.” Marcus chuckles. “That girl has never met an ice cream flavor she didn’t love. She even eats mint chocolate chip.” He makes a face and grins at you.

“Mint chocolate chip is delicious!” You protest immediately, making him just grimace even more dramatically. “Fine, more for me and Missy, then. You’re the one missing out.”

“I will happily miss out.” He promises you. “I don’t care for the taste of toothpaste with my chocolate.”

“How about coffee and Oreos?” Offering him a first taste of your ice cream is only fair since you’d had one of his, but more than anything you’re just enjoying the easy teasing between you.

“Now you’re speaking my language.” Marcus doesn’t hesitate in sampling the cone you offer him and he groans happily. “God.”

“Right?” You laugh, trying to ignore the way the sounds reverberate through you anytime Marcus groans or moans over delicious food. “We have to come back. Gotta try every flavor.”

“Absolutely. Although with Missy coming, we’ll have to trade the motorcycle for the car.” He doesn’t mind it, and to be honest, he likes that you want to include his daughter.

“I don’t mind.” Spending time with his daughter is more important than how you travel, and honestly you’re not sure you’ll be composed enough for family bonding with how fucking wet riding that bike has made you. “The bike can be for when it’s just us.”

“I like the way you think.” Marcus smirks slightly and takes another bite of his ice cream.

“After all…” When you smirk at him it’s devious. “I don’t think the bike would be considered very ‘Daddy’ of you.”

He snorts, nearly choking on the melted cream of his dessert. “That’s just mean.”

“Me? Mean?” You blink at him innocently, with your eyes as wide as they’ll go. “Never! But tease? Absolutely.”

“So you tease but you don’t get the dirty meanings behind comments?” He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “Interesting.”

“I guess I just…never expect anyone to make dirty comments to me?” It feels like an excuse, or something silly, and you shrug your shoulders. “So it never occurs to me.”

“Why?” That seems impossible to him. You’re beautiful, kind, smart and funny. “While I don’t subscribe to catcalling women all the time, there’s got to be times where people come onto you.”

“Maybe.” Another shrug and you feel yourself looking away, like you ought to be embarrassed for missing out on something. “But I never notice unless it’s extremely obvious. Like the day you asked me to have lunch with you the first time? You flat out asked me.”

“I don’t mind having to be blunt.” Marcus leans in and nudges your shoulder slightly. “I’ll keep it in mind when I want you to know I’m flirting with you.”

“I’ll learn,” you promise, knowing the whole thing sounds silly to any ‘normal’ person. “Learning how you flirt is easier than learning how everybody in the world flirts.”

“This is very true.” Marcus is halfway down with his cone so he dutifully holds it out for you to take.

“Trade time.” You offer him your cone in exchange, glad that something so simple can be enjoyable for both of you. After everything you’ve been through over the last few years, you really have realized that it’s the little things that mean the most to you. Something as simple as sharing food makes everything much more intimate.

“We might have to get a couple of pints to take home next time.” Marcus suggests. “Bring a cooler.”

“We can make homemade ice cream sandwiches.” The thoughts roll on - of spending more time with him, getting to know Missy - the daydreams you have only started to allow yourself this week as you waited eagerly tonight.

“Ohhhh make some cookies for the sandwiches.” Marcus groans, rolling his eyes at the idea.

“Exactly.” His enthusiastic reaction makes you grin, hoping that some of these little dreams might come true sooner rather than later. Tonight has really been perfect, and you don’t want it to end even if all you do is sit here in the after-dusk and watch the water together.

“So…anything else you want to do?” He asks softly. “We don’t have to end the date after we get back to L.A.”

“Honestly? We could probably do anything and I’d enjoy it.” Simple, maybe, but you prefer to think of it as being easy going. And you’ve never not enjoyed time with this man. “Maybe we could just…curl up? Watch a movie or something? Unless that sounds boring to you.”

“We could do that.” Marcus offers after thinking about it for a second. “Do you want to do this at your place or mine?” Just because you were picked up from a date at your apartment doesn’t mean you want him to come back to it. He frantically tries to remember if he did the dishes this morning.

“It’s probably easier if you come back to mine, I think.” Not that the very idea of it doesn’t have you shaking a little with anticipation. “That way you don’t have to drive the round trip between our places just to drop me off.”

“If that’s what you want.” Marcus chuckles quietly and decides to be honest. “I was just panicking and praying I had cleaned up from breakfast this morning.”

“There’s no reason to worry about that.” You shake your head, pausing for a second to lick away a drop of ice cream before it can skate down your hand. “A pristine house always confuses me. It’s supposed to be where you live, and life is messy.”

“Life is messy but I don’t think day old dishes are the way to express it.” Marcus chuckles. “I always think of shoes by the door, backpacks slung over the stair banister, throws and pillows messy on the couch.” He shrugs. “Basically how my house looks.”

“If you would be more comfortable at your house, I don’t mind.” For you, this is all about making him as at ease as possible, because you know that no matter what you’ll enjoy yourself. “I can take an Uber home?” Or spend the night, but you won’t say that part out loud.

He chuckles quietly. “I was wanting you to be comfortable.” He pouts slightly, playfully, at you.

“Too considerate for our own good.” You have to laugh a little, realizing that you’re both dancing around each other. “Why don’t we go to your house, then?” An Uber ride now will give you time to think, and to maybe not do something impulsive like ask him to stay.

Marcus nods. “That sounds good. We’ll have the house to ourselves and not have to worry about bothering the neighbors.” He murmurs, knowing you probably won’t get his meaning.

“Sounds good.” The smile you give him is admittedly a little dreamy, but that’s okay. A first date should be dreamy if it’s any good. Now that it’s officially dark out, the night seems to have taken on an extra layer of comfort that you hadn’t expected. Or maybe it’s just that you’re leaning into his side on the bench.

Marcus quickly devours the cone, but he offers you the very tip of the cone - the best part in his opinion. “Here, sweetheart.” He leans up and holds it up to your lips. “The sweetest bite.”

There’s something very intimate about it but you don’t shy away, accepting the gift by nipping it right out of his fingers with your teeth but still accidentally grazing his fingers with your lips in the process. He’s right about it, though, and you hum happily when you offer him the same last bite of the cone you had been holding.

It should be obvious how Marcus is feeling from the way his breath catches when you graze his fingers, but he doesn’t know. So he makes it obvious. He wraps his lips around your fingers and sucks lightly.

As gentle as he is when he does it, it sucks the air straight out of your lungs to make you gasp. There's no possible way to miss the deliberate way his tongue flicks at your fingertips instead of focusing on the nub of the ice cream cone that you had been offering, and although he does come away with the treat in his mouth that's not at all what you're focused on now. You stare for a second before you can compose yourself again, and instead of being gobsmacked you immediately feel your whole face burning.

"Delicious." He hums, smirking at you slightly as he licks his lips before he starts to lick his fingers clean of any melted ice cream that dripped down. "Are you ready to go back?" He asks, watching you carefully as he sucks his thumb clean.

The reply gets stuck in your throat at first but you nod, eventually managing to stammer out a "Yes" and flustering, because what you want to do is drag him in for a kiss but that seems awfully forward. Or maybe it isn't at this point and you're just paranoid - who knows.

Marcus chuckles quietly, suddenly more confident on this date than he had been up to this point. His knuckles brush across your cheek and there’s still just a touch of light over the ocean to make the scene romantic with the string of lights around to give it a nice glow. “I’m going to kiss you, unless you say no.” He warns softly, making his intentions known and giving you a chance to pull away as he leans in.

“Why the hell would I do that?” It gives you just a second to appreciate his knack for crystal clear communication, which means the world to you, but you’re also not trying to open a dialogue. You lean in as easily as breathing, finding his lips a half seconds faster than he anticipated, and let your eyes flutter closed at that first touch. It feels so natural, like everything else tonight, and you reach one hand up to cup his cheek while the moment lingers between you beautifully.

Marcus sighs into the soft kiss. It’s gentle, promising. A first kiss that sweet dreams are made of and he’s careful to not take it any deeper. If you want to kiss him again, he can expand then. After a moment, or many an hour, he pulls away with a smile. “Ready, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.” As soft and sweet as it is, your whole self is buzzing with it and you run your thumb along his jaw as you nod. “Ready, handsome.”

The two of you stand up and there’s a natural way that you seem to drift towards each other. His hand sliding around your waist and he hums softly. “Are you warm enough in that jacket for the ride home?” He asks, knowing that it will get cooler now that the sun is down.

“I’ll be okay.” He must not know that he radiates heat. It comes off him in waves and you’ve wondered more than once how he could possibly survive wearing sweaters like he does in Southern California weather while being so warm. Maybe it’s just an aura he gives off. “If I’m chilly when we get to your house we’ll just have to curl up under a blanket.”

Marcus groans slightly, barely refraining from making another dirty comment, but his fingers flex slightly on your hip. “Whatever you want.” He promises.

“Did I say something?” You’re starting to pick up on things. On his cues that could be considered unusual. At least, he never groaned around you before.

“Yeah.” He knows you didn’t mean it sexually. “I was just thinking of all the ways I could be under a blanket with you, sweetheart.” He admits as the two of you stop in front of his bike again. “It’s adding to that pressure I was talking about.”

With two pieces of the puzzle, it's like something clicks into place in your mind and you suck in another breath, clamping your mouth shut to keep from openly giggling. "Oh." You duck your head and push into his space a little, just to press a kiss to his cheek. "I wouldn't... wouldn't mind not making it through the movie," you admit quietly.

He chuckles quietly and reaches for the helmet for you. “That’s up to you.” He promises quietly. “Completely up to you.”

The ride back to LA is easy. The giddiness in your blood is different than it was when you left the city but no less exciting - just a new kind of anticipation. The idea that he does actually want you as much as you want him is exhilarating, making you hyper aware of the way you have to cling to him as he guides you through traffic. The strength of him despite how he might look soft to the outside observer. The breadth of his back and shoulders giving you a place to rest your head as your drive that only makes you wonder if the breadth of his chest would be even more comforting.

There is a slight urgency to getting back this time. He’s not speeding too badly but it’s not the leisurely drive it had been on the way out. Not with the fact that your hand has slipped under his jacket and resting on his stomach, warm and heavy.

His house is picturesque from the outside: the pinnacle of upper-middle class southern California comfort. A gate and security box outside let you in to see the well kept front yard and around the side of the house where the pool is beckoning with welcome. It looks tidy but not fussy, which is just like him. "Home sweet home?" You hum when he cuts the engine in his driveway.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus offers, letting you swing yourself off the back of the bike before he lets down the kickstand and dismounts himself. “Hopefully you like it.”

"I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't." As reluctant as you are to pull away, you take off the helmet you had been wearing and hand it off to him to secure. The night has barely gotten a chill but the ride definitely created a breeze, and you smile when you take his offered hand. "Do you want to give me the grand tour?"

“Of course.” He practically beams at how you smile at him. It’s the type of smile that makes him feel like a warm blanket has settled over him. “Missy has managed to make this hang out central in the summertime when she’s here. The kids like to come swim.”

“I would too, if I were them. Any place with a pool is the best place to spend free time.” There’s vestiges of teenagers everywhere when he shows you the path to the backyard - pool toys in a large crate and everything brightly colored in every way. It feels lived in and loved.

“Of course. And it’s always asking if I can grill hamburgers or whatever.” He huffs, but his grin gives away how much he enjoys it. “Do you know how many bags of chips teenagers can plow through?”

“It’s gonna be even more if I start coming over.” You flash him a grin that says you’re one hundred percent ready to suck up to his daughter to make sure she likes you. “Dips and desserts are kind of my thing.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Do you mean to bring them or I’ll have to buy more?” He teases with a wink.

“Oh no, I’ll make them.” You promise, laughing right with him. “Nothing says pool party and burgers like fresh salsa and guac.”

“You make homemade guacamole and my daughter would be your best friend.” Marcus laughs. “She eats it all by herself.”

“Befriending Missy is very high on my list of priorities.” That’s something that shouldn’t be a secret from him - that you value him enough to make his daughter a priority. Tonight has been amazing and might still continue to get better, and it’s important that he knows how seriously you take this.

“The key to her heart is avocados and green chili sauce.” He confides, whispering playfully. “If you can make green chili enchiladas, she might ask you to move in.”

Your other hand moves around his waist when he pulls you into his side and you grin up at him when you hug him. “I really hope you don’t mind having me around then, because it sounds like Missy and I can live off the same foods.”

“If you can cook it, thank God.” Marcus huffs. “Because for some reason mine never turns out right.”

“We’ll have to see what she thinks.” You lean into Marcus with a smile. “I hope they make the cut.”

“If they are halfway decent, it would be a lot better than mine.” He chuckles, leaning into you and sending you an up close wink.

“Wanna show me the inside?” A nod to the house is a small thing, but getting to see his space for the first time is a big deal.

“Of course! Yes, of course.” He huffs at himself and shakes his head. “Come inside, please.”

The house is lived in. Cozy and as tidy as it can be while being inhabited by a single dad and his teenage daughter. No cleaning lady has been through here, no private chef has seen the inside of this kitchen or painstakingly set this table. It hasn’t been touched by an interior decorator or a stylist. It’s just their home, and you like it all the better for that.

“So this is it.” He’s never been a showy person, motioning to the living room and open kitchen. “It’s home and to be honest, probably could use a hell of a dusting.” He admits, blushing slightly.

“It’s just like you.” The words come with a soft, lopsided smile. “Comfortable, welcoming. Like you don’t want to leave once you’ve been let inside.”

Marcus smiles slowly and nods. “Well it’s a good thing that you only leave when you want to.”

It’s a chance to take, but you’re willing to go out on a limb right now. With his fingers still threaded through yours it’s easy to turn into him and tip your head back. It’s just a small moment, or at least it starts that way, but you place a kiss to the corner of his mouth in what is - for you - a very daring move. “That is a good thing,” you murmur, hoping that wasn’t too forward after he kissed you earlier in the evening.

It warms him, making him snake his free hand around your waist and pull you closer. “Hmmmm.” He hums quietly and shakes his head. “We can do better than that, sweetheart.” He promises before he leans in to kiss you again.

It’s firmer this time, more wanting, and you sigh into it with a freedom and enthusiasm that is only encouraged by how close he’s holding you.

Marcus feels the tension building, loves how naturally this is progressing and he tilts his head slightly so he can run his tongue along the seam of your lips.

You shiver a little and sigh, opening up for him and gliding your tongue along his for that first taste of exploring something deeper. While his hand tightens at your waist, yours slide up his shoulders easily, pulling the two of you together like magnets. You opening up for him is like opening the floodgates for Marcus. The needs that have been building for him spill out, making him become more assertive. Guiding you towards a counter while groaning into your mouth, he presses against your body, his own hard and throbbing for you.

Permission has been given here - permission to act and permission to want in a way that you can’t remember even scratching the surface of with anyone before him. Of course there were others before him, you’re not that innocent, but it’s been a long time and something about the way Marcus is mapping the inside of your mouth so carefully and methodically feels momentous. You moan for him, softly at first but it quickly becomes needy, and tangle your fingers in his clothes like a desperate, silent plea to have them out of the way.

“Baby.” Marcus pants as he pulls away, sucking in the air he had been deprived of while he was kissing you. His lips trail down your jaw. “You need- let me know- if- if we need to stop.” He manages.

“Could say the s-same to you —” It’s not as though you haven’t dreamt of this. Gotten yourself off to the thought of this. Tried to imagine if he would be rough and needy from desperation or soft and gentle out of caution and affection. Now that you might be a hair’s breadth away from finding out you don’t ever want to stop.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Marcus lets out a breathless chuckle against your pulse. “Baby I want to show you my bedroom.” He murmurs desperately. His cock twitches against your stomach.

“Please.” There’s nothing more straight forward than that, and you nod almost frantically.

“Okay.” He pulls away from you and takes your hand. “Let’s go upstairs.” He offers, giving you a moment to breathe.

If you were in a more eloquent mood you might have thought it was like being led through a palace by your very own Prince Charming, but as it stands the only thing you can really focus on is the heat radiating off of him and the urgency with which you’re both climbing the stairs. You barely make it to the landing before you’re glued to each other again, blindly grasping along the hallway as you moan into another kiss.

It has been a long time since Marcus was in such a hurry to ferry someone into his bedroom. Yet his hands grip every part of you that he can reach and he is pushing off your jacket right there in front of the stairs so he can touch more of you. Drunk off the soft sounds you pour into his mouth.

One by one the pieces of clothing start to drop - your purse, both jackets, his shirt - with an urgency that you hadn't known you had until his hands were spanning your whole hips with one great grasp and his teeth found exactly how sensitive the tender skin of your neck is. "Marcus–" His name is a prayer before it becomes a chant and your own hands map the expanse of his chest as you tumble through a doorway that you desperately hope leads to his bedroom.

“Gonna make this good baby.” It’s a desperate promise to his ears, especially as long as he’s been without intimacy. Unless you count him jerking off this morning in a desperate attempt to not attack you. Though that point seems to be moot.

"So good." How could you doubt that about him? Well...you don't, honestly, but you understand that as long as it's been for you it's been much longer for him. And to have a little reassurance might go a very long way tonight. "So fucking good."

“Let me know if I do something that you don’t like.” Marcus orders you softly, smirking at you because he doesn’t think that it will be likely. “It has been a long time since I’ve been able to go down on someone.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” Having had no expectation for tonight, that bowls you over like a ton of bricks and you look up at him with lust blown eyes. “There is nothing I don’t like about that.”

He chuckles, the deep, raspy sound of arousal and anticipation. “You don’t know, I could be a biter.” He teases, knowing that he will put his teeth marks on you in a few different places.

"How do you know I wouldn't like that?" You tease back, enjoying that every single second doesn't have to be fully loaded and serious. Being able to laugh with your lover is something you need.

Marcus snaps his teeth at you playfully at winks. “Only one way to find out.”

Giggling in response, you happily draw him in for another kiss before stepping back toward his bed. One pull brings your dress up over your head, and you just have to thank your lucky stars that you wore a reasonably cute matching underwear set tonight. It's not all the way to lingerie, but it's nicer than your every-day stuff. If you had anticipated this at all, you would have pulled out the fanciest thing you own.

“Fuck.” The sight of your pretty panties and bra makes his cock twitch in his pants and he’s quickly ridding himself of the t-shirt he had worn. He might be slightly self conscious, it’s been a long time since he was in Heroics shape, but he ignores that as he stares.

"You took the word right out of my mouth." It might be a silly thing, but you can't help staring right back for a moment. The little bit of softness around his middle doesn't diminish his figure one ounce. If anything, you like a bit of softness with all that strength. He looks broader like this - shoulders tapering down to trim hips - and you step backward again. One step closer to his bed.

“Take off your bra.” Marcus orders quietly before he smirks and holds up his hand to stop you. “Better yet…hold still.”

Tilting your head at him, you stop reaching behind you. A second later the hook and eye clasps on your bra open completely untouched. "Did you just--?" Your hand immediately reaches back to touch the clasp, which feels completely normal and unbent, and you pull your bra down your arms with a smirk. "Metal powers. Handy."

“Very handy.” He might look like the cat who got the cream and his eyes only get wider as your breasts are revealed to him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching for the button of his jeans. “Do you like your nipples sucked on?” He asks, mouthwatering as he imagines it.

"Mmhmm." For some reason the question paralyzes you, like that is somehow what has made tonight completely real. "I-- y-yes, god yes."

“Then I’m going to suck on them.” Marcus groans like you’ve given him a gift. “I’m going to suck on them while my fingers stretch open your little pussy before I lick it.”

"Fuck." One more step back and your calves bump against his bed frame, almost making you lose your balance because you weren't expecting to find the all-important piece of furniture so easily. "Do it, Marcus. Touch me, please."

His jeans are pushed down, his boxers tented with a large wet spot from where he is leaking. “Lay down.” Marcus practically growls out the order, eager to see you spread out in his bed.

All in one not-too-smooth motion, you shift back onto his bed and slip out of your panties, wanting to just bypass any other awkwardness by laying yourself bare for him. Everything Marcus wants at this moment, you are more than happy to give him.

He had wanted to strip off your panties, but it’s completely okay if you are bare. Giving him the perfect unobstructed view of your body. He hisses through his teeth and rushes to strip off his boxers. “Jesus baby, look at you.”

"Too busy looking at you." His cock is thick, and longer than you've had before, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as you take in the sight of him prowling toward you. Two steps and he's leaning on the bed, making the mattress dip to hold his weight and bringing the heat of his proximity back to you. "Fucking gorgeous."

“Yes you are.” Marcus hovers over you, watching you squirm underneath him as he takes in the view. “Let me kiss you again, sweetheart.”

"Gladly." You would drown in him right now if you could - kissing him is the least of it. The weight and breadth of him on top of you makes you feel almost dainty as you breathe him in, and just a touch of warm wetness on the inside of your thigh tells you he is just as excited by the turn tonight has taken as you are.

The kiss is hot, frantic and Marcus is lowering himself onto you before he even realizes it. Needing to get closer. “Fuck.”

It feels like your hands are everywhere at once, trying to map the length and breadth of him while you memorize his taste. With no hesitations between you, the instinct to reach down and wrap your hand around his length is easy to give in to.

You would think that he’s been surprised, maybe even hurt from the way that Marcus sucks in a loud breath. But there’s no mistaking the way his hips jerk forward when your hand surrounds his cock and squeezes gently. It’s the sweetest kind of torture and he feels the burst of pearly liquid build up on the tip naturally. “Shit.” The ragged groan is followed by his mouth starting to blaze a wet trail across your chest in search of your nipple.

Your own gasp nearly matches when he finds it, drawing a moan from you and arching your back off the bed and letting your eyes flutter shut just for a second before you peel them open again to watch him. Ravenous isn’t usually a word you would use to describe Marcus but right now he is a man starved and the first step to satiating him is found at your tits.

There had been a few times where he had worried he wouldn’t be able to do this again. That he would be too nervous or just unsure of the new partner. But you have stripped all of those insecurities away and left him with nothing but heavy desire.

The sounds surrounding you like a halo turn filthy quickly. Groans muffled by skin, vocal moans, the sloppy sounds of Marcus lapping at your chest more and more desperately every time your hand moves on his cock.

“Fuck.” His groan is muffled around your nipple. His hands blaze a trail over your skin, groping and squeezing every piece of flesh he could. “So good.”

“Marcus—” You whimper when he moves across your chest, latching onto your neglected nipple with eager determination. “Fuck baby — need you to touch me. Please.”

Once you beg him, Marcus can’t deny you anything. His fingers slide down to slide through your folds and press against your clit as he switches over to the other breast. Your hand around his stills when he presses his fingers into you, totally absorbed in the feeling of being split open on two of his thick fingers as his thumb rubs circles over your clit. It has your chest heaving and body aching all at once, desperate to get as close to him as possible. To draw him into you and get him as addicted to the feel of you surrounding him as you already are to him surrounding you.

“So sweet.” Marcus pulls off your tit and groans when he feels how fucking tight you are as he pumps his fingers into your body. “Fuck, that what you need? That good? You need me to curl them?” He wants to know how to make you cum, wants to hear those breathless cries.

"C-curl, fuck, please--" It's impossible to form a complete thought with his fingers moving inside of you so gorgeously, but you nod and hope he can understand the broken sentence for what it is. "So good."

He hears you, his teeth nipping the side of your breast as he curls his fingers up and presses them deeper.

You keen in response, crying his name and grasping his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them perfectly against that gorgeous spongy spot inside of you and making you see stars. "Just-- fuck -- like that, oh my god."

Marcus groans, breathing against your skin and closing his eyes at the sound of your moan. “Good girl.” He coos breathlessly. “Oh fuck, good girl.” His cock pulses against your hip but he wants to make this good for you. Knowing that he won’t last too long in bed this time.

It's all too overwhelming and so good in all the ways that you've missed being touched, and Marcus's rhythm doesn't falter as he pushes you right to the edge. Barely gasping out a warning before your whole body seems to lock down under him, his name is on your lips when you fall apart for him the first time.

Marcus shudders, feeling the liquid heat rush over his fingers. Making him moan your name quietly as he keeps pumping his fingers up into to keep the pressure against that spongy spot and draw it out for you while he kisses along your jaw and murmurs small words of encouragement in your ear. “Good girl, so fucking good. Ride it out for me, baby.”

"Goddamn." When you feel like you can breathe again, you turn your head to capture his lips in a sloppy, eager kiss. "So fucking good, baby."

He chuckles quietly, soaking up your praise and slowly pulling his fingers out of you along with a whine when he does. “Good.” He pants. “You want–” He pulls back and looks into your eyes. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks.

"Fuck yes." There's no hesitation for you. Months of dreaming - and daydreaming - about this makes you nothing but pliant and needy. "I-I'm safe," you manage to pant out between kisses. "IUD, I mean."

He groans the idea of feeling you bare and having you full of his cum. “Good. I’m safe too.” He promises, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Been a long time and I’ve had a clean bill of health.”

"It's been a while for me, too." There's no reason for him to be self-conscious about that, and you brush the damp curls of hair out of his face to press a kiss to his forehead. "Doesn't matter," you smile softly. "Just matters that it's you."

That more than anything, makes him relax. Marcus kisses you, forgetting that he had promised to use his tongue on you as he shifts and covers your body with his. “So fucking beautiful.” He groans.

"All for you, baby," you promise him, knowing that nothing in the damn universe could pull you out of this man's bed now that you're here.

He doesn’t rush. Instead, settling between your thighs is a slow affair. He’s not some teenager that needs to be inside you, although the ache has built up to almost painful. Instead he kisses you as his hand slides between your bodies so he can position himself at your core and his eyes watch yours as he slowly starts to sheath himself in your welcoming body.

You feel like you're holding your breath as he presses into you, filling you up inch by gorgeous inch, but it's the low moan reverberating in your chest and the thick cock slowly splitting you open that gives you the feeling of breathlessness. Marcus isn't in a hurry and neither are you. With your foreheads pressed together and sounds of pleasure coming from both of you, the room around you has dissolved and narrowed your reality down to just him.

“Holy shit.” Marcus’s arms are trembling by the time he is buried to the hilt and he swears that he can’t breathe. The sexy and playful moment turns serious and he can’t do anything more than to press his lips tenderly to yours again while he tries to give you time to adjust before he moves.

He pulls back, rolling his hips away from you as slowly as he had punished them forward, and you gasp into his kiss when he drives into you again - slightly faster but not with anything approaching speed. A languid pace gives you both time to find a rhythm together and your lips only leave his to kiss and nip along his jaw line while he moans in your ear.

He closes his eyes as he languidly rocks into you. Keeping the pace steady. “When you’re ready, let me know.” He murmurs slowly, feeling the exquisite pleasure of your walls squeezing him. “I want to hear you scream my name tonight.”

"More, baby." He knows damn well that you're not above begging, and your tone is borderline pleading even without needing to be. All you know is that you want to be completely overwhelmed by him. "Fuck, I-- please, Marcus, want you so bad."

“W-wrap your legs around me.” Marcus groans out, pushing to his elbows and grins at you. “And hang on.”

Curiosity has you following his instruction as much as anything else, and you shift under him just enough to have your ankles meet at the small of his back. Your hands grasping at his arms and shoulders will have to be enough to ‘hang on’ like you’ve been told.

He hums, pleased by your willingness to comply and he grins at you, devilish as he winks. “Now tell me if I need to slow down.” He says before he withdraws again and snaps his hips forward.

“Fuck!” Slow and steady is apparently not Marcus’s preferred pace, as he begins to pound into you with stamina that could only come from a Heroic. If his goal is really to have you screaming his name, you have a feeling it won’t take very long at all.

Grunting, Marcus reaches up to grab the headboard so it doesn’t beat against the wall. Forgetting that he had removed the spacers so it didn’t the last time he had rearranged the room. There hadn’t been any need for them for a long time. Now he just moans as your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as he keeps hammering into you.

The little crescent moon marks your nails are sure to leave behind don't seem to phase him in the least. Every thrust feels like he's splitting you open for the first time all over again, spearing into you until your head is thrown back on his pillows and you have one hand braced again the headboard so you don't hit your head with the way he's fucking you into the mattress.

“J-Jesus.” He hisses. “K-know how many times I-I imagined this?” He demands, pushing the air out of your lungs with every harsh roll of his hips. “Nearly every f-fucking day.”

"Me -- oh fuck -- too." It's as much as you can do to string a few words together right now and you keen when he drives into you again.

Every time his cock hits the spongy walls of your cunt, you moan for him. Making him ramp up his pace to near frantic and all he can do is pant out your name between breaths.

It hits you like a freight train when that second orgasm comes, without any chance to give him warning or do anything except cry his name into the night, the sound reverberating off the walls with the wet slap on skin on skin as Marcus fucks you through your peak with your cunt clenching down on him like a velvet fist.

“F-fuck, good girl.” Marcus moans, closing his eyes and thanking the Gods that he managed to last long enough for you to be able to cum. “Shit, baby.” He covers your mouth once more for a desperate kiss as he rocks into you half a dozen more times before he plunges deep and pulses inside you, the liquid heat of his pleasure filling you up.

He swallows your moans as he empties himself inside you, and when both of you breathe again it's with brilliant smiles on your faces even though all eyes stay closed for a long moment afterward. When you do open your eyes, you press soft kisses along his jaw and cheeks, finally dusting a few on his lips. "Holy shit," you giggle quietly, chest still heaving as you pant.

His quiet laugh matches yours in breathlessness and he nods. “What you said.” He huffs, deciding the thing to do would be to collapse against you and tuck his head into your neck to snuggle and breathe you on.

You wrap your arms around him, legs going slack as you both just sink down into his mattress together as one. "Hell of a first date," you chuckle, kissing his shoulder where you've left marks behind.

“Mmmhmm.” His smirk is pleased and tired against your neck. “When I can move again, I’ll run you a bath and get us some water.” He murmurs.

"If we don't both fall asleep first." It wouldn't bother you for a second if that's what happened. Passing out after sex with Marcus still inside you is high on the fantasy list.

“How do you know what I’m trying not to do?” Marcus grumbles playfully at you, kissing your pulse softly.

"Cause it's what I'm trying not to do," you giggle against his skin. "That's a hell of a workout."

“Yes it was.” His softening cock twitches inside you and he giggles slightly, feeling euphoric. “I’m very glad you aren’t my student anymore.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 

My Masterlist!

[magmagicstyle]

WHEN I WAS YOUR MAN (B)

(PART TWO (B) OF WHEN I WAS YOUR MAN (A) (“SO I CAN HAVE YOU BACK” SERIES))

⚠️WARNING⚠️: I mean… not really, maybe some violence because vampires need to eat and that… I guess sadness and long-ass descriptions also count… maybe

A/N: Hi there, it's been a while, haha.... So... Please remember that English isn't my first language, that I haven't been active for months and that I'm a tired college graduate. Thank you. ♥️ Hope you enjoy this crazy thing. That you forgive my spelling and grammatical mistakes, and that you can leave a heart or comment on your way out.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo

Mm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

And held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours

When I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

If you had to explain the meeting with the kings in just a couple of words, those would be: unexpected and confusing. Of course, this would be simplifying the meeting in a way that is almost insulting, but what could you do about it? It wasn’t like you could put all your feelings in words and expect everybody to understand what you were trying to express. Still, unexpected and confusing could be the best choice of words, even if they were quite poor.

First of all, the kings were quite charming. 

That wasn't surprising, after all, they needed to have a certain charm in themselves to be able to rule over all the vampires in the world. Since, it didn't matter how strong they were, if all the vampires decided that the Volturi didn’t deserve their power, they would be able to dethrone them. So, they were charming in a way that made you want to follow them. 

Their words seemed to be carefully united in sentences meant for you to want to be with them while fearing the idea of disappointing them. Even Caius, the most ruthless and rude of the three had a certain charm to him that you couldn’t help but want to see more. Marcus was sad, that was quite obvious, apathy was a horrible and depressing sickness of which the king seemed to be a victim. Still, he was like a calm force that made you feel like you were alone in the middle of a forest far away from all human life, without the weight of the expectations that are tied to your mere existence. 

King Aro was another thing completely. 

First of all, he was gorgeous. His black hair was bright and framed a perfect angular and gorgeous face, his height and body were so symmetrical that they made you want to cry. His eyes shone with the playfulness and mischief of a man that has a kid’s soul… All of those traits should make you fall for him, should make you want to bend over your back to please him and to make his wishes come true but… Those beautifully perfect traits only made you want to hide and avoid being in his sight. 

He was so breathtaking that you knew that he could use and would use this as a weapon to get what he wanted no matter what. He was dangerous in a way that was pulling. It was like seeing a lion or a tiger, grand beasts, alluring and charming in a way that made you want to walk towards them and caress their magnificent coat, but dangerous in a way that you knew that as soon as you were close enough to them, you would be killed in a horrendous way. 

Of course, Aro knew your thoughts and at some point even your feelings, but luckily for you, he was mostly flattered by them. After all, he knew that you respected them and their way of ruling. Also, the fact that you were Carlisle’s mate was a plus for them, Carlisle was your friend and if you were his mate -even when being too good for him- then they would treat you with the same care as they treated their old friend. 

The weight of the moment was not lost on you as you stood before the Volturi, their powerful presence enveloping the grand throne room. Aro's warm and soothing tone resonated in your ears as he acknowledged your loyalty and the significance of your connection with Carlisle.

The mention of being Carlisle's mate had its own impact. It was both a validation and a reminder of the complexities of relationships, even among immortals. The Volturi, with their keen insight into the minds and hearts of others, understood the depth of your feelings and the conflict you had experienced. But rather than judgment, they responded with an unexpected and welcoming acceptance.

"Oh, you lost lamb," Aro's voice resonated through the grand throne room, laced with a mixture of sympathy and disappointment. His words carried a weighty truth, causing you to pause and reflect on the nature of your relationship with Carlisle. "A mate is a gift for our lonely existences. It's quite disappointing to see our dear friend acting like a foolish human, moved by sentiment and doubts when the world gifted you to him to accompany his days and nights."

As Aro spoke, his warm tone enveloped you, offering a semblance of comfort. His hand gently caressed your cold skin, the touch reminiscent of a father soothing a distraught child. For a brief moment, you closed your eyes, feeling the venom gathering within your eyes, a testament to the intense emotions stirring within. However, despite the overwhelming surge of emotions, you refused to succumb to tears. You had grown weary of being relegated to second place, undeserving of the love and recognition you craved.

In that moment, you resolved to forge your own path, to find happiness on your own terms. The words spoken by Aro reverberated in your mind, causing a newfound strength to surge within. You knew you deserved more than being treated as a secondary choice. The realization dawned upon you, illuminating a path toward self-discovery and embracing the love that awaited you.

With a renewed determination, you opened your eyes, meeting Aro's gaze squarely. The red hue of his irises pierced through your soul, acknowledging the fire that burned within you. You had come to Volterra seeking solace and answers, and now you found yourself entangled in the intricate web of vampire politics and profound connections.

In this grand throne room, where the fate of many was determined, you were offered a glimpse of a different future—one that held promises of love, power, and belonging. Aro's words, though steeped in disappointment, held a glimmer of opportunity. They resonated deep within you, stirring an unwavering resolve to embrace the life you truly deserved.

“Aro…” Marcus said in a whisper, breaking your train of thoughts and bringing you back to the current moment. Still, his voice was quite strong and deep in the middle of the silent throne room. Aro pulled away from you and in a blink of an eye, he was by his brother’s side. His hands were touching Marcus’ offered limb with the eagerness of a child that was in on a secret that nobody else could know. As soon as he finish watching what the other king was trying to show, he let out an elated giggle, looking at you and at Nikolas with bright and playful eyes. The red in Marcus’ and Aro’s orbs went directly through your soul.

“My kings?” Nikolas asked, looking at the three vampires sitting on their thrones. Caius, unlike other times, looked quite interested in your presence. It was clear that he was curious, but… why? 

“My dear brother has seen something quite interesting between you two…” Aro said while walking back towards where you were standing. “It’s almost impossible to find your mate, but to find your true mate, the one that is made for you no matter what, after being rejected by one of the possible mates in this world? That is priceless, never been heard of and now… now we are able to see it happening right in front of our eyes… That’s truly marvellous…” The long-haired king let out with an elated and mischievous tone of voice.

You looked directly and Nikolas, unable to explain how you felt over this development but also knowing that in the middle of the storm of emotions, part of it was pure happiness. After all, you weren’t alone. You wouldn’t be a second choice, not for this gorgeous creature in front of you. Nikolas put his hands over your cheeks and showed a charming and caring smile that only confirmed your thoughts. You really were the only one for him. 

“Child… What’s your gift?” Caius asked in a cold and a bit rude tone of voice, looking at the interaction without any care for the lovely dovely feeling that surrounded you and your just-found mate. 

“Oh, brother… must you interrupt this moment? Dear (y/n) over here, is a mirror, a magnificent mirror capable of coping, whipping back, or stopping another vampire’s gifts… Surely, he can become a fabulous addition to our guard… a powerful vampire willing to do anything to maintain the peace we are so used to and willing to eliminate or neutralize any threat against his beloved…” Aro said with a smirk while looking at you. 

You wouldn’t doubt it, not for a second. Your eyes shone with the possibility of staying in Volterra, with the idea of being part of one of the most powerful clans in the world, with the idea of helping and being appreciated while also being able to stay with your mate, to get to know the gorgeous creature that life sent for you. 

“Of course, my kings… I would be honoured to serve and protect…” You said while vowing in front of them, before lifting your head and looking at the three governors. While doing so, your eyes managed to catch three powerful and charismatic smiles. 

Now my baby's dancing

But she's dancing with another man

After your initial introduction to the Volturi kings and your acceptance of the prestigious position within their guard, it didn't take long for you to integrate yourself into the group of vampires that lived in the fortress. The grand halls of Volterra became your new home, and the enigmatic Volturi guard became your family.

The first encounters were with Demetri and Felix, the two, even if they acted like dorks most of the time, were actually quite formidable vampires who possessed both strength and skill that matched their intimidating presence. Of course, you knew that their appareance was just a mask, since as you spent more time with them, their rough exteriors and stoic expressions gave way to camaraderie, mutual respect and playful and caring bond that made you think of two older brothers that would prank you and protect you when necessary. You found common ground in your shared duties and the pursuit of safeguarding the Volturi's reign. Demetri's astute tracking abilities and Felix's unwavering loyalty became traits you admired and found solace in, knowing they would have your back no matter what.

Alec, a cold, stoic but loyal member of the guard, caught your attention with his unwavering devotion to the Volturi kings. There was an air of innocence about him, reminiscent of a young child in awe of their parents. His admiration for Aro and the others was palpable, and it painted a picture of pure loyalty and dedication to his duty and his masters. The more time you spend with him, the more you noticed how underneath his seemingly stoic exterior, there was a young vampire who yearned for guidance and approval, and you found yourself drawn to his endearing nature, wanting to comfort him.

Jane, the other youngest member of the guard -with her brother-, presented a unique challenge. Her rough edges and seemingly unyielding demeanour were a result of a past that had not offered her the kindness she deserved. As you observed her, same as with her brother, you sensed a need for guidance and compassion, the need for someone who could teach her the beauty of empathy and gentleness. With patience and understanding, you slowly broke through her defences, earning her trust and acceptance. It was a testament to your character and the genuine connections you forged within the guard.

The rest of the Volturi guard, comprising various vampires with their own unique gifts and histories, embraced your presence without hesitation. Their acceptance was solidified by the kings themselves, who had extended their open arms and entrusted you with the responsibility of protecting their dynasty. Your own gift, like Aro had explained in your first meeting, was quite unique and interesting, and it also made you an invaluable asset to the guard's arsenal.

But perhaps what solidified your place among the Volturi guard was the bond that had formed between you and Nikolas. The strength of your connection as mates was evident to all, and something that had not gone unnoticed by the guard. Nikolas, the captivating and powerful vampire with a charming smile and a fierce devotion to those he cared about, had taken a liking to you. His fondness for you only further cemented your acceptance within the guard, as nobody would dare provoke his wrath. After all, Nikolas was one of the strongest vampires in the whole guard, being considered an unbreakble shield for so long.

With each passing day, your role within the Volturi guard became more entrenched. You found solace in the shared purpose and the unspoken bond that tied you to these vampires. The tasks, training and work that they gave you helped you forget about your past life. Nikolas also helped. Your gorgeous mate, with his pale skin, strong physique, and dark hair that framed his unnaturally perfect face, possessed an irresistible charm that left a lasting impression. His captivating smile and alluring italian accent only added to his appeal, making him a figure of intrigue and magnetism within the Volturi guard. Sure, all the vampires were perfect, but meanwhile some didn’t look like they were meant to be considered in the group of unnatural beauty and magnetism, Nikolas was different. He had such an appearance that it made you think that even as a human, he would be considered superior among his peers. 

When you and Nikolas first crossed paths, the connection was immediate and undeniable. Of course that as mates, you wanted to be together. But while your instincts screamed for you to claim the other vampire as yours, your heart and mind was still healing from the pain that your relationship with Carlisle had left you. Nikolas was really kind and understood perfectly your doubts and fears. He, recognizing that you were still healing from your previous relationship with Carlisle, decided to proporse that you began your relationship as friends, taking the time to explore and nurture the blossoming bond between you.

During this time, the gardens of Volterra became your sanctuary, a tranquil haven where you two had found solace in each other's company. Nikolas and you would often spend hours in the middle of the vibrant flora, basking in the warm sunlight that filtered through the leaves that hid your shinning bodies. You would read together or to one another, your voices intertwining with the rustling of pages, as you delved into literature that sparked your curiosity and ignited your imaginations.

Long conversations became the foundation of your friendship. Those were the moments that helped you understand that Nikolas wasn’t only following his instincts. No, unlike Carlisle, he truly seemed to want to be around you. This allowed you to share your hopes, dreams, and even your fears with Nikolas. In return, he did the same, confessing his different thoughts and feelings in those afternoons hidden between the flowers of the garden. As the both of you opened up to one another, your connection deepened, each revelation strengthening the trust that you had cultivated with each other. You would speak of your gift, talking about the advantages and problems that it created for you, while Nikolas would tell you the tales of his immense strength and extraordinary tracking ability. 

Thanks to this interactions and moments together your friendship began to evolve, as stolen glances turned into lingering touches, and laughter filled the air whenever you were together. The chemistry between you was palpable, an undercurrent of desire simmering beneath the growing affection that bathed your exchanges. Yet, considering the time together and the need for reassurance, you two cherished the foundation you had built, unwilling to rush into something more before both of you were ready for a romantic connection.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as your friendship continued to flourish, to grow and get stronger. During this times, you found solace in each other's presence, a sense of belonging that you both had searched for so many years. Through shared adventures and quiet moments of vulnerability, you discovered a love that was both gentle and fierce, nurturing the deepest corners of your souls. It was like that, between conversations and soft touches that you confessed and accepted Nikolas’ proposal to continue your time together as lovers. 

Although it hurts

I'll be the first to say that I was wrong

Oh, I know I'm probably much too late

To try and apologize for my mistakes

But I just want you to know

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the room, you found yourself lying in bed with Nikolas, this was the first time sharing a bed with your mate. The first time you decided to open yourself to him and to let the other vampire touch you in ways that only Carlisle had done before. Still, you weren’t scared and you didn’t have any doubts, your bodies close and your hearts filled with the fluttering excitement of newfound love. The coolness of your skin against each other only heightened the sensations, soft touches with such strong bodies, as you explored the depths of intimacy and romance.

Nikolas's eyes, filled with adoration and tenderness, met yours, and a soft smile played upon his lips. It was a look that spoke volumes, conveying the depth of his feelings without uttering a single word or even making a noise. You didn’t need it, the way he was looking at you, the way his fingers and lips touched your skin, his actions spoke more than any word in the world could say. At that moment, you knew that you were both embarking on a journey of love and connection, unlike anything you had experienced before… and even if you didn’t have any doubts, to begin with, this sensation only reassured you even more that you were making the right decision by letting him embrace you in his bed.

Drawing you into his embrace, Nikolas's touch was gentle and almost reverent, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your cheek, going down your neck and chest. Every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin, ignited a warmth within you that surpassed the absence of mortal warmth. You knew that if you were humans, your skin would feel as hot as an open fire. His love and his actions were something that transcended physicality. This was a bond worthy of being considered a soulmate, a bond that didn’t stay in the instinct part of things, that didn’t support itself in empty words and promises. No, this was a type of love that was delving into the realms of the soul.

Leaning in, his lips met yours in a tender kiss, filled with a sweet longing and a desire to convey all the emotions that words couldn't express. It was a moment of vulnerability and trust, where the barriers between you crumbled, and you were left basking in the pure connection that blossomed between your hearts. As your bodies moved in sync, exploring the contours of each other with a tenderness that defied the coolness of your vampire nature, a symphony of whispered endearments and soft sighs filled the air. Every touch, every caress, was an affirmation of the love that was blooming between you, like a delicate flower unfurling its petals. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, time seemed to stand still, it was as if someone had frozen you in a picture, away from the rest of the world, allowing you to savour the sweetness of this deep and caring love. There were no worries or doubts, only the purity of the present moment, where you both discovered the beauty of intimacy and affection that surpassed mortal understanding. You couldn’t think of anything else, only his touches on your skin, his words being whispered in your ears, and his body so close to yours. 

You could feel his arms around your waist, the way his fingers caressed the exposed skin and the way he breathed your scent. You knew this was on purpose, you knew he didn’t need to breathe at all, he only wanted to feel your scent close to him. He wanted to know that you trusted so much that you were willing to bare your neck and your body to him. That was the thing that made it so special. 

With every breath, you could sense the mingling of your scents—his uniquely masculine aroma blending with the delicate hints of your own fragrance. It was a primal and intoxicating combination, a fusion of identities that marked the merging of two souls deeply entwined in love and desire. The subtle nuances of his scent enveloped you, filling your senses and creating an indelible imprint of his presence within you.

He was also smelling you, taking your scent in and staying close to your skin as if he was trying to imprint it in his memory. Carlisle never did that for too long. His moments with you were brief and just to fill his necessity of being close to his mate, unlike the moments spent with Nikolas. Your gorgeous mate made sure to show you how much he wanted to be with you, how much he trusted you and needed you in his life. 

Of course, the fact that you two felt so strongly for each other, and the fact that you were mates didn’t make any sense. After all, how could you have Nikolas as your mate while also having Carlisle as another mate? That didn’t make sense, even the kings were confused by this… but you didn’t care, nobody cared about it. It was almost like a miracle in your awfully lonely lives. So you decided to not pay attention to it. 

Even if you knew that since you had a second mate, this meant that Nikolas probably also had a second mate… so this could be a risk, this could mean that the other vampire would eventually find his second mate and would have to make the choice to stay or leave you. Still, the idea of being loved -even with the uncertainty of the future- was so amazing that you wanted to ignore the real world at least for a little bit. You wanted to ignore the fact that Carlisle was out there, with his wife and children, not caring for one bit that you ran away, you wanted to ignore the possibility of Nikolas’ other mate running around wanting to find him, you wanted to ignore all the duty and responsibilities that the two of you had with your guard and your kings. You just wanted to stay in this blessed moment of warmth and silence while being in the arms of this creature that loved you with all his being. 

The weight of your vampire nature, with its coolness and lack of heartbeat, seemed inconsequential in this moment of shared vulnerability and intimacy. In Nikolas's arms, you found a haven where the frigid reality of your existence melted away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the intensity of your emotional connection. It was a testament to the power of love, transcending the limitations of your immortal forms and allowing you to experience a depth of intimacy that surpassed anything you had known before. 

In this space, where only you and he were in each other embrace, time seemed to stand still. The concerns and obligations that burdened your minds were eclipsed by the all-consuming passion and affection that flowed between you. Each stolen kiss, every whispered word, was an affirmation of the profound connection you shared—an unspoken promise to explore the depths of love and desire that awaited you. As your bodies melded together, the limits between you blurred until they disappeared completely, and you became lost in the intoxicating dance of passion, letting yourself go and relish in your time together as mates. The flow of your movements mirrored the cadence of your souls, entwined in a rhythm that defied mortal comprehension. It was a symphony of sensations, impossible to be explained by simple words, an intimate conversation between two hearts discovering the boundless depths of what could be considered true love for the first time in their inmortal lives.

I hope he buys you flowers

I hope he holds your hand

Give you all his hours

When he has the chance

Take you to every party

'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

In the forest near the Cullen house, the air was thick with tension as you, now standing as one of the vampires representing the Volturi, came face to face with Carlisle. Years had passed since you last had any contact with him, and many other things, you were able to love someone else, have new friends, you learned and gained years of experience that made you wiser than before. Gone was the little vampire that only believed in instinct and that believed that everything could be perfect with someone by your side. You were stronger, smarter and even if you were in love with your gorgeous Nikolas, you weren’t naive enough to think that nobody would try to break you apart. You trusted your partner, but you weren’t going to let someone try to come between you. Still, seeing him in front of you, looking exactly like the last time you saw each other, made the wounds from the past open a bit. 

As you and Carlisle locked eyes, a mixture of emotions swirled within you. Anger, hurt, and a lingering sense of betrayal coursed through your veins. You were over him, you didn’t want him back and you wouldn’t leave Nikolas for that poor excuse of a vampire that couldn’t follow the most basic of all rules. Still, the memories of how Carlisle had treated you, the way he had disregarded your feelings and mistreated you, still haunted your thoughts from time to time, and seeing him again, only opened a wound. 

For a moment you cursed the time you accepted to follow Orion’s orders and come to Forks. The moment you decided to act like his representative and come to deal with the newborn problem. Still, how could you deny him? Your heart ached with the similarities between your stories and with the fact that your pasts had the same villains in them. 

You could still remember the way that in the grand halls of the Volturi fortress, amidst the opulent architecture, the whispers of immortal beings could be heard. All of the members of the guard that were able to be present talked about the fated reunion between the kings and their mates. You could say that, as the enigmatic and captivating mate of the Volturi kings, Orion's arrival in the castle marked a moment of significance and anticipation. 

You weren’t surprised by the guards' reaction. After all, as soon as you saw Orion, you understood why the kings were so fond of the vampire that ran away from the Cullen clan. Orion, with his ethereal beauty and regal presence, commanded attention and respect from all who laid eyes upon him. It almost felt like beauty was his gift, but no. His gift was a more dangerous one, a power that you couldn’t begin to understand. His arrival in the Volturi stronghold was met with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. After all, his presence in the castle signified a union of power and love, an unbreakable bond that transcended the bounds of immortality. 

When the kings introduced you to Orion, you couldn’t help but smile, it was like a silent reassurance of a forming bond between you happening at the exact moment your eyes met. As Orion's gaze met yours for the first time, a connection sparked between you, forged by shared purpose and unspoken understanding and friendship. At that moment, you saw the weight of responsibility he carried, the sacrifices he had made for the sake of love and loyalty. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for acceptance and support, which you pledged to provide without hesitation. You looked at him and couldn’t help but be sympathetic to his life and history. It was at that moment that you decided to be not only his guard and protector but also be a friend, a confidant when he needed and maybe even some kind of brother. 

Aro introduced you to Orion and you could feel how the weight of his words hung in the air. You knew that you were important in Volterra, but to be considered as strong as necessary to be part of the personal guard of your king’s mate? That was reassuring. Your king has affirmed the significance of your role in the castle and you couldn’t help but answer with your actions, body moving on his own and making you vow your head with pride, your eyes never leaving Orion’s. It was a promise, a silent commitment to protect and help the future governor of your coven. 

As a member of the guard, you stood at the forefront, ready to protect and serve Orion with unwavering loyalty. Your role as his guardian was not merely a duty; it was a testament to the trust and affection that had been bestowed upon you. Your purpose was to ensure his safety and well-being, standing as a shield against any threat that dared to challenge the sanctity of his presence.

Carlisle took a hesitant step forward, pulling you away from your memories. He looked directly at you with a pained expression on his face and his voice filled with regret. "(y/n), I cannot express how deeply sorry I am for the way I made you feel… You must believe me… I realize now the mistakes I made, and I understand the pain I caused you… But you don’t know how long I searched for you… Please, come back… let me make it right. Stay with us, with my family. I want to make amends… I want to prove that I can be the mate you deserve… Esme and I aren’t together anymore, after you left… nothing was the same."

You listened, your guard still up, your heart burdened by the weight of past wounds. Carlisle's words stirred a mix of emotions within you, and for a moment, you contemplated the possibility of forgiveness… You would never go back to him, not in a million years. You had Nikolas and you would never leave the gorgeous mate that the world had gifted you, but still… You considered the idea of having a friendship with him, an understanding of sorts… Of course, these thoughts disappeared the moment you remember the feelings of abandonment and the sensations of being always considered second place in the blonde’s heart… it was then that the raw pain resurfaced, and you found the strength to voice your distress.

"Carlisle, it's too late," you replied, your voice tinged with sorrow and bitterness. "You had countless opportunities to treat me with respect and kindness, to be the partner I deserved… the mate you were supposed to be… But instead, you turned your back on me, treating me as though I was insignificant…”

Regret and anguish etched themselves onto Carlisle's face as he realized the gravity of his actions. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as if hoping to bridge the emotional chasm that had formed between you. “(y/n)... please… I can be better, come back to me… you know I can be better…” He said, almost in a whisper with a shaky tone of voice. Still, in the silence of the forest, his voice sounded so loud.

You let out a sigh, looking at him with a tired and bitter expression on your face. “I always came last, I was always the one left alone… You only care right now because you don’t have me by your side but… You don’t want me back because of love, but because of a weird sense of duty…"

 "I understand that I failed you, and I can't change the past. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make amends, to prove to you that I've learned from my mistakes… Give me a chance…" Carlisle said, eyes shining and you knew… you were absolutely sure that if he could, he would cry. 

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips, laced with a mix of sadness and disbelief. "Carlisle, you don't understand… do you? You had your chance, in fact… you had multiple chances of proving to me that you wanted me in your life, that you wanted to try to have a real relationship with me and not the lie that we were living for so many months… and you threw it away. You decided to spit on the universe's face by treating your mate poorly, and now, I have found someone else… and he… He loves me like there's nothing else in the world, and I know that he would never betray me."

Carlisle's expression turned crestfallen as your words sank in. It was obvious that he didn’t expect you to love someone else, but… what did he think was going to happen? Even when heartbroken, you were gorgeous, an unreal beauty that even vampires could see as unique…  

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a testament to the pain you had endured. Carlisle's gaze met yours, filled with remorse and regret. "I can't change what I've done, but I want to make things right. Please, give me the chance to prove that I have changed, that I am capable of being the partner you deserve."

This insistence, his useless intents to make you go back to him were starting to be annoying for you, something quite obvious thanks to the mixture of irritation and resignation coloured your voice as you responded, "God, understand that it's too late. You had your chance, and you lost it, in fact, you threw it away like it was nothing… I have moved on, and I have found someone who values me and cherishes me without reservation. I deserve that love, and I won't settle for less."

A profound silence descended upon the forest, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You took a step back, your voice softening with a hint of sadness. "I wish you well, Carlisle, but my place is no longer by your side. We weren’t the right ones for each other… I don’t know who is for you but… I was able to find my soulmate and I have chosen my own happiness… Move on, Carlisle, because I will never look back…"

With those words, you turned and began to walk away, each step a testament to your strength and self-preservation. Carlisle stood there, his heart heavy with the knowledge of his mistakes and the pain he had caused. As he watched you disappear into the distance, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss, knowing that he had let go of something precious. He had everything and because of his stupid old ways and his lack of consideration, he lost the most wonderful thing the world had given him in his miserable life.

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @rexburn12 @kettnerjanea @pandalover19

TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES: (I can't believe I have one of these!) @idksleep-y @catspector @simpingfortoomanypeople @akiraackerman19 @y2k-whor3 @blackenedflowers @untitled74745 @cruxiohp @fanficaddictmwah @finchisloney @sen-nn-a @mrsxyz480 @deepblueseasworld @blackenedflowers @maiasvidan28 @linoriii @lucianideals @erensbbg @theanimalover22128 @its-ares @thewhitewolfmarvel @chrisevansxmalereader @sammy-stark @sad-eyes-6k4 @datenshousan @creezoldyck @1800cokewitch @l4l4j0p433 @carlislecullensgirl @qu3nt1nb00m @stevensimpp @chubbichubb @fariylixie0915 @rhyanna6012 @haocovr @spilltheyeasis @elena-anu @charliesystem

[heliads]

I just saw your account and can I request Tobias x Reader?

Reader is from Erudite and she and Four are the same age. Both of them were top of their class and became trainers. The reader goes by the name 2 sometimes, as a joke. She has a younger sister who also join Dauntless and Reader and Four are just a total power couple. Reader is also Divergent and knows Four’s real name and that he is divergent too. So the day when Tris kissed Four, he moves so she only kisses his cheek. Tris then thinks that Four is shy and likes her. But the next day the reader is very tired from staying up all night helping a kid who was sick, comes and Four kisses her and gives her his jacket. So Tris is really heartbroken since she was the only one who didn’t know about their relationship. Reader and her sister ( who are really close) also hate Tris. Reader is pretty shy and sweet but she has a bitchy face that scares people away a lot.

I hope I am not bothering you… Feel free to tag my name

do you ever think about how tris is really just a y/n in disguise

masterlist

Tris does not know what is coming for her. 

Some time in the future, she may be able to look back on all that happened and realize what she never did back then. She’ll connect the dots with far more clarity than she ever could at the time. Hindsight is always easier to understand than the present moment. Tris cannot be held accountable for that, and neither can you. 

At the moment that Beatrice Prior became just Tris, your story had already long since begun. She was still in denial back in Abnegation when you made a decision in your own round of the Choosing Ceremony. She would not have been there to see how it all went down, but you were. 

Perhaps she heard about what happened through word of mouth. Most new Dauntless come from Dauntless with the exception of a wayward Candor or two that decide the truth is beneath them. You were an exception, then. When Beatrice heard about the sharp-eyed Erudite girl who dashed her blood into Dauntless’ vessel, do you think she thought about it later that night when no one else was watching? Do you think she heard about what you did and realized that she could do it too?

No one will know for sure, none but Tris herself. After what happened, you doubt she would ever be so candid as to let you know. You can guess, though. You can take your time and wonder about what might have gone down in a grayed out faction where a girl heard for the first time that she might be able to have a life outside of endless sacrifice. 

There is one story that she most certainly did not hear at the time, however, and this one would hit a little closer to home. At the very moment that Beatrice Prior was wondering what would become of this year’s round of transfers, another boy was making waves by switching to Dauntless. He was Abnegation too, and at the moment that he let his blood plummet into Dauntless’ bowl, he was as good as dead. 

Later, Tris will wonder how she didn’t connect Four to the boy she had met before, Tobias Eaton. In truth, it’s because every step was taken to ensure that nobody else would. Marcus Eaton’s son died the moment he got the chance to leave his old life behind. Tobias Eaton was buried in a shallow grave under the cover of night, left to the mercy of scavengers like time and poor memory to make up his legacy. Abnegation did not want its followers to think that escape was an option, so he was covered up.

Perhaps, then, the only one Beatrice heard about was you. Tobias was simply one in the crowd at that point, nameless and utterly without character. Every single facet of him had disappeared the second he chose to step away from Dauntless. The boy standing by your side in the Dauntless section of the Choosing Ceremony was staring at his bleeding palm and wondering whose history he could end next. He was no one, not until he remade himself again upon entering Dauntless.

Regardless of what Beatrice did or did not think of the two of you at that moment, your future was set in stone. You bid Erudite goodbye and ran out of the city center with the rest of the assembled Dauntless once the Choosing Ceremony was over. You had analyzed your decision over and over in the preceding months, so you had no regrets at the moment. All there was to do was run free and wild in the sun, and let your body think that it could do whatever you asked of it. 

Like Tris, you also had to leap from the roof and deal with the aftermath of what you found when you fell. Like Tris, your first encounter with the boy who was once called Tobias Eaton and would later be whispered of as Four was life-changing. You were one of the first jumpers, he was one of the second. It was the two of you in an empty hall, lingering by the edge of the net and watching the graduated Dauntless pace back and forth at the edges of the room. The horizons seemed to shift where the black-suited faction lingered to watch, and in the middle of all of it, you found one point of stability. 

Four.

You don’t remember what name he gave when he first jumped down, if he even gave a name at all. He didn’t seem to use one until he progressed into the fear landscapes and was able to be rewarded with his famous nickname. Perhaps he had gone by Tobias all that time before then, but if he had, it had never seemed real. Tobias was a prop to be discarded at a moment’s notice. It suited Four no more than the gray cloth still clinging to his back.

In the time to come, you would watch with the same awe as the rest of the faction as Four quickly rose up through the ranks of initiates. Obviously, no Abnegation would ever have a chance to learn how to fight, but that didn’t excuse Four from being uncannily good at it. He knew how to throw a punch from the moment he arrived, although that could have just been from watching someone else do it. Sometimes lessons are learned from watching the imprints of your own bruises flower on your skin.

Dauntless forgave Four of his Abnegation heritage quickly. You doubt most people even remember he once wore gray instead of black. To suggest that cold, deadly Four could ever have been giving or merciful is laughable. Dauntless’ Four is the pride of their faction. He makes no mistakes and he tells no secrets. No one could ask for anything more.

Why, then, would you? Why would you seek him out after that first meeting? Was the fall from the roof not enough of a rush for you, that you had to track down the one person capable of making your head spin? In the end, you suppose you’ll never really know why you chose Four, only that you did and it is the best thing you could have ever done for yourself. 

Choosing Four was choosing survival. You were Divergent and so was he. Maybe that’s why everything went so south so quickly. You were never meant to live past discovery. You should have woken up to a gun pointed at your head the moment someone found out that the dots weren’t connecting for why you were here and not in your home faction.

You always thought that the first person to figure you out would have been someone back from Erudite. They were always too damned clever, every single one of you. They delighted in figuring out people’s past mistakes, every single loophole they’d ever tripped. Death knows what they would have done to you had they known.

The only thing that might have saved you also damned you. See, Erudite was as sickly brilliant as a smoking gun, but so in turn were you. You knew the perfect answer to say to every question. You knew what to do in the aptitude test so no one would question you. To any onlooker, every bone of yours seemed to be laid bare, when in reality you hadn’t given a thing away.

It was the only thing you could do, but it was exactly what revealed you. Four knew you were as sharp as a blade, both in violence and in mind, and he knew that no one like you would have ever left Erudite if you didn’t have something to hide. What is the only thing in this world that would ever make you fear discovery? Why, the same thing that made him flee to Dauntless’ shadows as opposed to any other place to hide. Divergence.

He had to be the first one to say it aloud. You would never expose a weakness in yourself unless you had a choice. That was the initial moment in which you finally laid down at least part of your armor. In the weeks to come, you would shed more and more of it, until at last the young woman that you became could be the first one to say ‘I love you’ instead of having it be the other way around. You are not the Y/N that came into Dauntless, and you don’t know that you could ever be her again.

That is the wonderful thing about this faction, what it can do to change you. Beatrice learned this as well, you know. You were there to see it start to happen for the first time. She was just the right sort of ember to fanned into a flame around here, and you let it happen.

You should have known from the moment you saw Beatrice Prior become Tris that she would be a threat to you. Instead, you saw a girl not unlike yourself and you welcomed her with a smile. You had been trying to be more forgiving. That is Four’s worst curse on you.

Perhaps it’s because Tris reminds you of your sister. They’re the same age, they both jumped around the same time. In some better world, perhaps Tris would have turned to your sister for a source of friendship instead of looking to your boyfriend for some sort of comfort. That way, far less troubles would be raised, and perhaps you and Tris could see each other as hesitant friends instead of whatever has become of the two of you now.

The worst part is that you could almost see it happening. You and Tris are damned near identical. Both first jumpers, both Divergent, both fleeing a home that could never be truly yours, and worst of all, both in love with Four. How is Tris any better than you? How are you any worse? She made the exact same choices you did, but because you got there first, you get everything and she gets nothing. It is relentlessly unfair, but that is Dauntless; that is life. Nothing in this world will be yours unless you take it. In her defense, that is exactly what Tris tried to do.

Four told you the first time he suspected she had feelings. You and Four are nothing if not honest with each other. He wanted to let you know that something may happen, partially as a warning and partially also in the hopes of using you as a tool to stave off Tris’ crush. You’re a training instructor alongside Four and Eric, so it wouldn’t be difficult for Four to let you handle Tris instead of trying to teach her himself to encourage some distance. 

That’s what you did the first few weeks, at least, but Tris got clever. She really is like you, isn’t she? You can’t possibly hold that against her, but it’s not like you have any other choice. Tris tried too hard to have what she could not. There was no way the two of you could be anything other than enemies. That is what becomes of our doubles, cruel universe; you see yourself in another body and you cannot do anything but despise it.

Four dropped by your place late one night, later than usual. He had a haunted look in his eyes, the sort of guilt you only see on him when he wakes up with a nightmare, muttering the name of a boy long since dead. It wasn’t his fault, he says. He didn’t know what she was trying to do until it was already done.

Here is how it went down, from what Four tells you and what you can pick up from his social cues alone:  Tris had been in trouble. Four has always been a savior, he was certainly yours enough times for it to stick in your head. When Four had come across the scene, he would be able to do nothing if not help. Tris had been grateful, both for the rescue and what she took as a final confirmation of Four’s feelings. She had tried to kiss him. He had moved so she only kissed his cheek. Still, it was a touch that was not yours.

What can you do about that? Tris is not going to go away. Even after initiation ends, she will be a strong member of your faction. Obviously, Four doesn’t want this, but how does he put a stop to it? Eventually, the two of you brainstorm a solution, and go to sleep with no more guilt curled up on the inside of each other’s throats.

You’re helping in the medical wing the next day. Tris is there as a check up to make sure that she was alright after last night’s incident. You don’t treat her, as there are enough patients to fill up anyone’s schedule, but Tris is still there to see what happens when Four drops by. In a perfectly orchestrated move, he gives you his jacket the second you shiver and presses a kiss to your lips. It is a neon sign in the dark, she cannot miss it.

And she doesn’t. You can see Tris’ face crumble across the room, and she quickly turns away to hide her surprise and anguish. You had thought that everyone in Dauntless knew about you and  Four, but it turns out that is only true now. Tris might have been the last to know, but she’s learned her lesson now. You don’t have the heart to hold it against her.

At the end of the day, how could you? Dauntless trains its soldiers to fight for what they want. It is not Tris’ fault that you already did. She will go about her days with a sinking feeling in her stomach, a bit of blood spilled where her heart had previously been healed, but eventually she will be able to act as if nothing ever happened. Soon enough, it will almost be true. Tris will find a new meaning to fill her days.

How do you know this with such certainty? It is exactly what you would have done. 

requested by @sakuraazharuno, i hope you enjoy!

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent

[zapreportsblog]

Hello I love your writing. Would like to request a gem reade/Marcus

We all know Marcus lost his mate so when he sees the new intern secretary come in after the last one got eaten. He’s so moved and thankful that he has a new mate 🥹🥺 my man was dead inside and after centuries this sweet juman that’s so innocent and caring now is his mate 🥺 I jus want them to go on romantic date on one particular nigh they are talking about literature and his lif e on a moonlight stroll. The night ends with them having a passionate night together. Fem reader was shy but Marcus is a wonderful lover and she’s so happy to be with him. Her last partner had been so abusive she feared falling in love again but Marcus was so attentive,protective and romantic 🥹

Awww poor baby is getting the happiness he needs

❝nothing like what I imagined❞

✭ pairing : marcus volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight x reader

✭ summary : the moment he laid eyes on her he knew she was his second chance at life, it’s unheard of vampires having second mates but now that’s he’s found his he will do all that he can to make sure she knows she is loved

✭ authors note : this song was definitely heavily inspired by the song “baby I’m yours”

✭ twilight masterlist

In the dimly lit corridors of the Volturi castle, Marcus moved with an air of quiet contemplation. His presence was often overlooked by those who were consumed with their own ambitions and intrigues. Yet, his gift of sensing emotional ties among individuals allowed him a unique perspective on the world around him.

One day, as he made his way through the grand hallways, his attention was drawn to the entrance of the castle. There, a new intern secretary had just arrived, replacing the previous one who had met a gruesome end. Marcus watched from a distance, his crimson eyes focused on the young woman who had captured his attention.

The moment their eyes met, a surge of emotion flooded through Marcus. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in centuries, a deep and powerful connection that reached beyond his usual sense of emotional bonds. He stood there, rooted to the spot, as he realized the truth—this young woman was his mate.

His heart, which had long been dormant, seemed to awaken within his chest. The mate bond between them was stronger than anything he had felt before, a tether that bound them together across time and space. Marcus was moved, both surprised and thankful, that fate had granted him another chance at love.

As he watched her navigate her new role within the castle, he kept his distance, his emotions a mixture of anticipation and restraint. He knew the dangers that surrounded them all, the complexities of their world that often led to heartbreak and loss. But this time, he was determined. He silently promised himself that he wouldn't allow history to repeat itself.

Over the days that followed, Marcus observed her from afar, a mix of longing and caution in his gaze. He kept his new discovery hidden, knowing that revealing such a bond could attract unnecessary attention. He continued to perform his duties, all the while his thoughts and emotions were intertwined with hers.

As time passed, Marcus found himself drawn to her presence more and more. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing day, a force that couldn't be denied. He felt the weight of centuries lifting from his shoulders, replaced by the hope and possibility of a future he had thought he might never experience again.

In the shadows, Marcus remained patient, his love and determination hidden beneath his stoic exterior. He knew that their journey would be filled with challenges and obstacles, but he was prepared to face them all. For in this young intern secretary, he had found his mate, a connection that transcended the darkness of their world and promised a new chapter in his immortal existence.

As the days passed and Marcus's connection with (y/n) grew stronger, he found himself unable to suppress his feelings any longer. He knew that he had to tell her the truth—the truth about the mate bond that bound them together. He couldn't deny the intensity of his emotions, the longing he felt for her presence.

One evening, as the sun set and cast warm hues across the grand halls of the Volturi castle, Marcus found (y/n) in a quiet corner of the library. He approached her with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, his crimson eyes focused on her as he cleared his throat.

"(y/n)," he began, his voice a gentle rumble, "may I speak with you?"

Startled, she looked up from the book she had been reading, her gaze meeting his. A blush crept across her cheeks as she nodded, her fingers nervously clutching the pages of the book.

"Of course, Master Marcus. What can I do for you?" she asked softly.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions swirling within him. He reached out to gently take her hand in his, a silent gesture of comfort and connection.

"I want to share something with you," he said, his voice low but steady. "Something that has been on my mind since the day you arrived."

Her heart began to race, her curiosity piqued. She looked into his eyes, sensing that there was something significant he was about to reveal.

"You see," Marcus continued, "when I first laid eyes on you, I felt a bond—a deep and powerful connection that goes beyond what I've experienced before. (y/n), you are my mate."

His words hung in the air, a confession that held weight and meaning. Her eyes widened, her heart pounding within her chest. Her past experiences had left her cautious and guarded, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"I understand if this is overwhelming," Marcus said gently. "But please know that I am not like your previous partner. I am not here to hurt you. I want to protect you, to be there for you in every way that I can."

She bit her lip, her emotions conflicting within her. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant what he said. But the fear of being hurt again held her back.

Marcus could sense her hesitation, her inner turmoil. With a soft sigh, he continued, "I understand that this is a lot to take in. Perhaps we can take it slow, allow our bond to grow at a pace that you are comfortable with. You have my word that I will always respect your feelings and your boundaries."

Touched by his sincerity and understanding, (y/n) felt a warmth spread through her chest. She looked into his eyes, searching for any signs of deceit. But all she found was honesty, vulnerability, and a genuine desire to make her feel safe.

"Thank you, Master Marcus," she said softly, her voice laced with emotion. "I appreciate your patience and understanding. I'm just... trying to navigate through my own fears."

“Please just call me Marcus,” he says before nodding and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I will be here every step of the way, (y/n). We will face this journey together."

As the evening continued, they sat together in the library, sharing stories and getting to know each other. The library's soft ambiance provided a comforting backdrop to their conversation, and in that moment, they both realized that their bond was something worth exploring—a connection that held the promise of healing and a love that could stand the test of time.

After a few weeks of talking in secret Marcus got (y/n) to agree to a date. So now under the shimmering moonlight, Marcus and (y/n) strolled along a cobblestone path, their steps accompanied by the gentle rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

The stars adorned the velvety sky like diamonds, casting a soft glow over the surroundings as if nature itself was setting the stage for their romantic evening.

As they walked, their conversation flowed seamlessly from topic to topic. They spoke about literature, exchanging thoughts on classic novels and sharing their favorite authors. Marcus shared stories from his long life, giving (y/n) glimpses into different eras and cultures he had witnessed.

"I've always found solace in the words of poets and authors," Marcus said, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Literature has a way of capturing the human experience, of transcending time and connecting us to the emotions of those who came before us."

"I completely agree," (y/n) replied, her eyes sparkling as she listened to his words. "It's like stepping into different worlds and experiencing a multitude of emotions through the characters' journeys."

As the night deepened, they found themselves by a tranquil pond, its surface reflecting the moon's silvery glow. They settled on a comfortable spot beneath a tree, where a blanket had been laid out for them. A bottle of wine and glasses were placed nearby, casting a warm and inviting ambiance.

"(y/n), would you like some wine?" Marcus asked, pouring a glass for himself.

She nodded with a smile, accepting the glass he offered. They clinked their glasses together before taking a sip, the taste of the wine mingling with the atmosphere of the night.

Their conversation continued, becoming more intimate as the wine flowed. The air was filled with laughter and shared stories, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the night wore on, (y/n)'s cheeks grew flushed from the wine, and she looked at Marcus with a mixture of boldness and vulnerability.

"Marcus," she began, her voice soft and slightly slurred, "I've been wondering... Do you feel an attraction towards me?"

Marcus met her gaze, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. His lips curved into a gentle smile, and he nodded. "Yes, (y/n), I do."

Flushed and slightly flustered, she took a deep breath. "Well then... I'm not sure how to say this... But, Marcus, I want you to take me."

Marcus's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Take you where, (y/n)?"

Her gaze remained steady as she said, "Take me, Marcus. I may be a little drunk, but my mind is clear enough to make this decision. I want to feel loved."

A moment of silence hung in the air as Marcus absorbed her words. He placed his glass aside and gently took her hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"(y/n)," he says, his voice so soft that her name barley comes out as a whisper.

There was a sense of both nervousness and excitement that filled the air as Marcus leaned in closer and gave (y/n) a gentle kiss on her forehead. His touch felt warm and comforting, and (y/n) could feel her heart beating faster as their lips met.

His hands gently traveled down her body, exploring her curves and curves until he gently caressed her body and they embraced each other tightly.

Their passionate kisses were filled with so much emotion and desire as Marcus was a gentle, loving, and attentive lover. He explored every inch possible of (y/n)'s body with kisses and caresses, and as their bare skin met, (y/n) felt as if she was being surrounded by a powerful, consuming love.

“Come, not here.” He says scooping her up into his arms quickly and whisking them away to his bedroom. The bedroom door had just barely been closed before (y/n) found herself on the bed eyes wide and cheeks flushed red as she stared up at the towering volturi leader before her.

“If I’m to take you, then I must do it right.”

[evansbby]

I finally watched a ballad of songbirds and snakes and here are my thoughts!!! (movie and book spoilers below the cut!!!)

Overall I think it was a PHENOMENAL movie. Especially Tom Blyth as Coriolanus Snow, he was just incredible. The subtlety in his expressions, how he portrayed cool confidence as well as awkwardness that lies beneath… he was just WOW.

AND Rachel Zeigler as Lucy Gray!!! She was incredible and so charming!!! I loved her accent and the little things like how she’d call Coryo “gorgeous” and “sweetheart” I was scared they’d make her a typical Hollywood girlboss and I think I got maybe one or two glimpses of that, but for the most part she was just brilliant and an amazing singer too!

I think they adapted the book into a movie really well.

But here are some things they cut out which I wish they included: (there are some I’ll miss bc I’m rusty with the book since I read it one year ago)

— Clemensia’s fate. The last we see of her is when she sticks her hand in the snake pit and gets bit by the snake and exposed as a liar. But in the book, the snake bite literally has a physical effect on her like her skin becomes yellow and also her eyes, she starts growing scales, her brain is altered by the venom too. She basically becomes like a snake and they showed none of that??? In fact we never see Clemensia again??

— Arachne’s funeral scene. This scene was SO poignant in the book bc of how they paraded Brandy’s dead body and one of the things I remember so clearly and I understand maybe it was too gruesome but I really feel like it should’ve been included in the movie. It really really showed how the Capitol treated the tribute kids. I was really waiting for this scene and they never showed it so that was a bit of a letdown.

— They should’ve showed more of the exchanges between Sejanus and Marcus. They went to school together in district 2, and they REALLY should’ve highlighted this a lot in the movie, to show that it easily could’ve been Sejanus in his place has things been different. Idk I just felt like there was more to explore there. Marcus barely had any lines in the movie.

— The Covey was barely explored and introduced at all. Maude Ivory and the rest of them barely had a speaking line! I know the movie was very long so I understand they had to cut a lot of things out but the Covey was so important to LG’s character and it’s a shame they basically got cut out.

Okay and now I have a few good things to say. My favourite parts included the way they filmed the bombing of the arena in the beginning, with the shot of LG and Coryo and bombs just going off all around them. Visually it looked pretty cool.

Also the hunger games themselves were very interesting to watch! They were actually my least fav part of the book (the district 12 part aka part 3 was my fav in the book) but the movie made the hunger games so interesting! Loved it from beginning to end.

I just need to talk about my biggest problem with this movie. Now I’ve read the book and the book mad it obvious from the beginning that Coryo was… Not Good. But in the movie this wasn’t very obvious. My friend, who hasn’t read the book, literally was on Coryo’s side and thought he was justified throughout… I feel like the movie should’ve showed Coryo’s hatred for the districts more, his shame for being poor more, his hatred for Sejanus more, even his second thoughts about leaving with Lucy Gray… none of that was obvious in the movie. My friend thought the movie deliberately made Coryo look not that bad, which defeats the purpose of the book in my opinion. In the book, it’s always somehow made clear that Coryo is not good. He does good things but innately… there’s always something off about him. Movie didn’t show that enough imo. Like his possessive nature especially was never highlighted. I mean ofc Coryo gets progressively worse and he does have his good moments in the book too BUT the book makes it clear that he had sooo many chances to make the right choice and he just… doesn’t IDEK im scared no one is gonna get what I’m trying to say

SEJANUS is probably my biggest gripe in this movie. In the book, he was my favourite character. He was the only one speaking sense, the only one who was so passionate about how THG were wrong and how the treatment of the districts was wrong. In the movie, I’m so sorry but he came across whiny and annoying. He wasn’t being passionate like how I imagine him in the book, he just…. fell a bit flat for me. So much so that when his execution happened, it fell flat for me too. As opposed to when I read it in the book… you guys I CRIED and couldn’t breathe and felt sick to my stomach. Had they better highlighted how much Sejanus trusted and seemed to love Snow, his death would’ve had more impact in the movie. Idk how to explain it but I just didn’t like Sejanus in the movie? The acting felt flat, the guy was doing nothing for me… and in the book he was everything bc he was the one saying what all us readers were thinking!!! My friend who hasn’t read the book found Sejanus INCREDIBLY annoying too. Idk.

A lot of people said that the third act in the movie was too brief but to me it felt too long? Maybe bc I knew what was coming. I liked the ending, I think it was done really well. Exactly how I imagined it in the book. I also wished they’d showed LG and Coryo kissing more in the film. They only kissed once??? Whereas in the book they were always kissing??? And I wish they showed Coryo’s reaction to the first kiss, like in the book he fell asleep repeating the kiss in his head, likeeee idk I wish they’d have translated that initial infatuation better in the movie.

BUT APART FROM THAT.. and I know I’m missing so much more but I’m so tired… but yeah, this movie was really good, it was really special, it was entertaining throughout and I wasn’t bored even for a second!!!

I’d give it 8.5/10

[dr4wingfranciss]

thought about this while listening to 'Bigmouth Strikes Back' and I HAVE to share it somewhere

Lamina & Joan of Arc. But not movie!Lamina

Book Lamina. BOOK. LAMINA.

Let me explain.

So, Lamina in the book is first percieved as a weak, teary and very pathetic girl who would not even last 3 seconds in that arena. As the days go by, everyone stops paying attention to her, even her mentor, who's supposed to guide her and promote her (i hate that concept). She's on her own, and she needs to survive by her own methods and strategies.

She's a lumberjack, so she's very skilled with an ax and with climbing. She knows this and realizes she can use that on her advantage. So, she continues to portray her role as a "weak and teary girl" while ploting her survival strategy.

When she kills Marcus, she realizes she's actually going to play along with what's meant for herb to do: kill. Because, if Lamina doesn't become the hunter, then she will become the pray. And that's exactly what she becomes. Another pray, hunted and killed.

In the end, it doesn't matter if that poor girl from District 7 dressed in a potatoe sack dress and with red puffy eyes killed a guy. It doesn't matter that she played her role in the games correctly. It's not important. She's just another victim. Just because she's district. She's born out of the Capitol. Her life was going to be miserable even if she wasn't reaped. She had probably been told that since she was a kid.

And when the pack goes after her, it's not even crucial that she became a real contender after 20 minutes in that arena, going from 'pathetic and useless' to 'lethal and marketable'. This twist of events it's not important in the slightest because Coral is stronger. Coral and Mizzen and Tanner are more, and much stronger than her alone. By herself. Lamina dies not just by the fact that she was cornered, but because she never had a chance to even continue.

A future was not something she was meant to have. Not even if she worked SO HARD for it. Not even if she killed Coral and Mizzen in the spot. She was going to die. She was supposed to die. And she was going to die as another unfortunate soul trapped in the unfair Hunger Games.

Now, what the hell does Joan of Arc has to do with a basic analysis of a side character from a book? Everything. Absolutely everything.

Joan of Arc was a woman (in fact, a teenager) who did all she was "told" to do in order to save her life and the lifes of the french. To save France from the unfair and devastating destiny that was caused by the British invading her country. She was meant to do it because she'd been told that since she was thirteen. So she saved France. All undercovered and with sixteen years old. She did all of that.

But that was heresy. In the end, it never mattered if she saved France. If she made someone a king. Nothing of that was even considered as she was tied to a pole and burned alive while everyone else witnessed it. All because she went against the 'Holy rules of the Lord'. All because she had done what she was told to do. She did everything she had to do in order to keep everyone AND herself alive.

None of those things were important.

And that's the key. That's the reason. That's all.

They did everything they were told/meant to do, but it wasn't enough. Never enough.

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

Spencer Reid x fem oc

Content warnings: talk of death, violence, daddy issues, alcohol consumption (legal age), guns…

Part One

College life has been great… is what I would say if just six months ago I didn’t get a call from my father saying my mom died because he didn’t catch some criminal. I’d known a little bit about the jackass who’d been hunting and tormenting my father only because Dad bothered to share minor details for my safety.

When I had refused to put my last year of undergrad on halt because the great Aaron Hotchner had pissed off an unsub so bad that he began hunting my family, I was granted a body guard instead. Granted isn’t exactly the word I would use though. I would say forced to have some big guy follow me around while my mom and little brother hid out in an undisclosed location. But Dad told me it was either that or I join my family and put graduating on pause.

For the two months I had Marcus following me around and not letting any cute guys near me - which I thought was ridiculous because clearly the gorgeous basketball player from the neighboring housing dorm, Andre Taylor was not George Foyet - I had the audacity to feel sorry for myself. But then that self pity turned to rage and despair when Dad called me crying and told me what happened to my poor mother.

Haley Hotchner was not just my mom; she was my friend, my confidant, my lifeline. My dad and I have always been close, but I could tell Mom things I could never have him knowing.

I moved back home for the rest of that month and well into the next. I did my college work online; luckily my professors were lenient with me given the situation I was in.

Come mid October, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to go back to New York. My dorm room was waiting for me, and the house I grew up in was suffocating my entire being. Everything in there was sad, not just my father and Jack. Mom’s things that remained untouched would taunt me, making me miss her even more. The house reeked of depression and death.

Dad was upset when I told him I was going back to the university, but he understood. He knew he couldn’t lock his 21 year old daughter in a depressing household and use her as a baby sitter while he avoided his sadness by diving into work. He also knew that if he did, I would’ve grown to resent him even more than I already had.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my father. We had a great relationship while I was growing up. However, there had always been a hole in the house, a hole in my life. He was always gone for work, especially when he started at the BAU when I was ten. He started missing more and more important days in mine and my mother’s lives. My twelve birthday for example: Dad was supposed to pick up the big surprise present my parents had bought for me, but he answered the call from Agent Gideon and headed to Oregon instead.

My mother left some very “nice” words for him on his voicemail that day. I didn’t cry though, or even tell Mom I was sad. I just sat beside her and watched all my friends play while I secretly and silently hoped my father was planning some big surprise and a case was his cover up. But the real “surprise” was that my hopes were horribly crushed as I waited hour by hour at the door for him to show up.

“C’mon, baby,” my mother brushed my hair out of my face with gentle strokes. “It’s passed your bedtime.”

I had fallen asleep in my hopeless wait. I nodded to my mom and stood up, half consciously letting her guide me to my bedroom upstairs.

I began to grow some sort of spite for my dad that day. Of course he was still my father, and I loved him, but I never quite saw him the same. Sometimes I would feel as though me, his baby girl, was less important than work.

I thought that this would end when my baby brother Jack was born. Dad was home for a while, and the four of us were a happy, functioning family. I was a senior in high school, so my father was running out of chances to be with me, my mother made sure he knew that. I thought I would get to have my dad back.

But soon enough, he went back to work and was only there 2-3 days a week most of the time. I think Mom grew to have spite for him as well. Actually, I know she did because she called me one day after class and told me she was divorcing my father. I felt sick to my stomach. Our family was falling apart, and I was at university 230 miles away. And my poor baby brother was only 2.

Anyway, after going back to school things started to get a little better. My aunt became Jack’s practically live in nanny, and Dad seemed to be doing much better after a few months.

Now, it’s March, six months after my mother’s gut-wrenching death, and I think our family’s going to make it. We’re the Hotchners after all, and we’re nothing if not stubborn, so I think we’ll survive this just out of spite of George Foyet and everything he stands for.

Sometimes, when I drink a little too much (or not enough), I can imagine the horror of the moment Foyet almost took my father from me too. He told me a little about both times he was attacked, and every time I think too much about it, my stomach hurts, and I feel sick.

I’ve been asked before what if I think my dad killing Foyet was too harsh, but I don’t. I don’t find it harsh enough for what that evil thing deserved. It’s obvious that he would’ve gotten to Jack then maybe even me - I’ve seen his female victims, I’m just his type - if Dad hadn’t finished him off.

“Jade,” my best friend since middle school waves her hand in front of me. “Jade, you’re doing that thing again where you drift off into space.”

I shake my head a bit then look at her. “Hm? Oh sorry, I was doing that again.”

“Where’d you go this time?” She asks, a look of concern on her face.

“It’s not important,” I shrug her question off. “Let’s do body shots!”

I grab her hand and drag her to the living room of some guy we’ve never even met. The too-loud music guides my hip swaying as I lead CeCe to the crowd of people cheering and laughing. Two hot guys lay on the table as some chick older than me places a shot class full of clear liquid, Tequila, on top of his belly button.

“Who’s next?” She asks with a drunken smile.

“Me,” I say and step forward as annoyed sorority girls whine about me ‘cutting in front of them’, which is an elementary term for it, but the only one I can see fit.

The girl grins and looks me up and down. “Brave of you to go against these cult chicks,” she tells me. I make the safe assumption that she’s not a fan of sororities.

I shrug and move my hair out of my face as I lick the salt from the guy’s abs, take the shot of tequila, then take the lime from the girls teeth, all in one pretty smooth motion I think. I suck the juice off the lime and make a scrunched up face before opening my eyes again. I see CeCe laughing at me and shaking her head.

“You are something, Jade,” she chuckles as I walk back over to her with a little skip in my step.

“I’m a fun- haverer,” I say then laugh at my stupid made up word. “Why aren’t you having fun? You’re being so lame.”

“I am having fun. I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be! I’m just making this spring break amazing,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

“But I j-“

“Nope. Do not pull the dead mom card. Only I can pull the dead mom card because It’s my mom who’s dead,” I say. I know she’s worried about me because I’m back in DC for the first time since my mom’s funeral, but I don’t need her worries.

CeCe sighs but nods. “Okay. I won’t pull that card.”

“Thank you. Now I need some fucking beer,” I say, heading to the kitchen.

“Don’t you think you’ve had too much to drink?” my best friend asks.

“You sound like my dad.”

“Actually, I have not warned off every guy here, thank you very much,” CeCe laughs softly.

I join in on the chuckle, rolling my eyes. “As funny as that is, it’s not inaccurate.”

Protectiveness is not a word used lightly when used to describe my father. I know he’s showing his love in his own way, but it’s overbearing at times. I wasn’t allowed to date until I was 16, and even then he let every possible suitor know that he was fully trained and armed.

Basically, no guy wanted to go out with me because they were scared my dad may ring them by their necks. And I suppose my father can be kind of intimidating when he wants to be, but I don’t quite see it. Sure, he’s serious a lot, especially now that my mother is gone, but I’ve seen his soft, goofy, smily side. I guess the bitch boys I tried to date hadn’t, so they were on the verge of pissing their pants when thinking about what FBI agent, Aaron Hotchner would do to them if they even just kissed my cheek.

Even when I moved off to college, the guys still were scared to do anything with me because they knew who my dad is.

“No way, dude. She’s an FBI agent’s daughter, your balls would be shot off and stuffed into your mouth if you tried to tap that.”

That is a literal quote from a frat boy I heard talking to his friend in the common area. It was quite the visual and quite the obnoxious thing to hear.

I take a swig from a bottle I dug from the cooler. As the liquid hits my taste buds, my stomach does an unsettling flop. “You know what? You’re right, I’ve had too much to drink,” I tell CeCe and hand her the beer.

“Let’s just dance instead?” She suggests.

“I like your thinking!”

The two of us head over to a group of people and dance with each other and the cute guys we’re around.

A guy with straight blonde hair makes eye contact with me, and I smile bashfully. He makes his way over to me and asks if I would dance with him.

“Well, I’m already dancing, so why not?” I shout teasingly over the music.

He chuckles and moves to the beat along with me. Feeling a little flirty, I wrap my arms around his neck.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” he says to me.

“Thanks.” I say, but it’s more like a question because he called me a thing when I am, if it wasn’t obvious, a human being.

“So what brings you to this party?”

“Oh you know, just wanting to have some spring break fun. I just got back in town fro-” My sentence is cut off my lips crashing onto mine. His mouth is hot and taste like alcohol, but then again that could also be my mouth. His hands roam too far down my back, and I free myself from his grasp.

My hand connects with his cheek with a satisfying sound. “You can’t just-”

I’m cut off once again by the man who’s now holding his redden face, my hand print on it. “You bitch!”

“Maybe that’ll teach you something, jackass,” I huff and make my way out of the house.

I can hear guys “oh”-ing dramatically, half laughs in their voices.

The music is getting way too loud; I can barely hear my heart pounding in my chest even though it feels so harsh and loud.

My name is being called from behind me, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I sit on the porch of the house and take a deep breath.

CeCe finally pushes her way past the crowd of people and catches up to me. “Jade,” she says. She sits down next to me but doesn’t say anything else for a moment.

“That was pretty badass of you to stick up for yourself like that,” she finally says, a small grin on her face.

“I don’t have a law enforcement dad for nothing,” I chuckle softly. “Plus he had it coming.”

“He for sure did. Someone definitely needed to smack that cocky grin right off his face.”

I grin faintly and run a hand through my now extremely loosely curled hair.

The two of us sit on the porch for a while until I feel sober enough to go home. CeCe, who was kind enough to be DD tonight, drives me back to my dad’s.

He moved into a two story apartment when Mom filed for a divorce. We stayed in the house for a while after her death, but eventually Dad moved him and Jack into his apartment. I think that was the best for all of us, so we weren’t surrounded by the memories of what happened between those very walls.

“You sure you’re good to walk up there on your own?” CeCe asks me.

“Yes. I’m mostly sober now,” I say, grabbing the empty bottle of water she made me drink on the car ride here. I’m not lying to her, the affects of the alcohol have lessened tremendously since it’s been a while since I had my last drink.

“Be safe! I’ll see you later,” she says.

“You too.” I walk up to the apartment complex’s front door, use the extra key my dad gave me, and make my way to the lobby’s elevator. I wave to CeCe who’s waiting on me to get safely to the elevator as I step into it. She waved back and begins pulling out of the parking lot.

I press the button “7” and feel the elevator take me up to the seventh floor. I find my dad’s apartment number, unlock the door, and walk in.

Luckily, no one is here to scold me for being home so late because Dad is at a five-day-long conference with Agent Rossi, and Jack is staying with Aunt Jessica.

I put my keys on the ring my dad has beside the door and kick off my docs. I notice the kitchen and living room lights are on, which is strange. No lights are on upstairs.

I look around, making sure nothing is out of place. Which is kind of hard since I haven’t been in this apartment in months. I freeze in my place by the couch as I hear something in the kitchen. Shit. Of course something like this would happen when I’m the only one home.

I sneak on my tippy toes, careful not to make a sound as I go to the safe my father has hidden behind a family picture. I pinch in the key, my birthday, and grab the gun Dad bought for me when I was 18. I’ve never used it, and never planned to use it, but tonight it seems like it could come in handy. I load it quickly and proceed toward the sound of footsteps and clinging in the kitchen.

Gun pointed, I sneak into the kitchen to see the back side of a man at the counter.

“Hands up!” I yell as if I’m a cop.

The man whips around immediately, obviously startled. I’ve caught him off guard. Good.

“Hands up! This thing is loaded, and I will shoot if you try anything.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Put that down,” he says, hands up and eyes wide.

“What? No. You can’t just break in without consequences!” I say, keeping my sim at his leg.

“Break in? Wh-”

Suddenly, I know where I recognize that raspy, almost high pitched voice from. I recognize the face too even though it’s changed since I’ve last laid eyes on it. “Dr. Reid?” I ask, baffled.

I see the recognition click in his eyes as well. “Wait, Jade?”

two

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @reidsprettygirl @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @yazzyu @crynroom @scarredelirium @lena-1895 @preciousbabypeter <3

[radiowallet]

Eyes Open - Chapter 10

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: Shit hits the fan. WC: 2.7K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, a blatant show of testosterone, blood, injuries, kissing, making-out, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk hurt/comfort, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 9 >>> Part 11

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

------

There were few nights Amy could pinpoint her loneliness. Small moments well past midnight where she could nail it down with a certainty that allowed for an understanding. Perhaps even one that would befit an explanation. It hadn’t been a feeling she had given too much credit to over the past 7 years, the focus necessary to parent and the love of a daughter enough even on the hardest days. It would have been easy to pity her predicament, a single mom in a too-small bed in a too-small apartment, holding it all together through sheer force of will. 

But when she least expected it, the empty spaces of her life, and in her bed, grew too loud to ignore. 

The noise is near constant now, the gentle touches and insistent kisses that she and Marcus exchanged following her between the sheets. Her twin bed suddenly felt vacant, a gaping emptiness as she remembered how good he had made her feel only a few nights prior. She had wanted more, was ready and willing to give and take well into the night, but Marcus had quelled the feeling with a cooler head somehow, the promise of more just around the corner. 

A promise she’s currently cursing. 

Briefly, she considers digging beneath her bed, the box shoved towards the back that’s been left untouched for years now. But it would be a poor substitute for the weight of him beneath her, the grip of his hands dragging her towards blinding pleasure. So instead she focuses instead on a different problem altogether. 

The look on Marcus’s face was still with her, the tick of his jaw and the slight way he pulled back, so small a move Amy’s not sure even he noticed. The shadows of the evidence locker carved a line across his features, dim light only helping her to see what he was trying to hide as he refused her help for the first time ever. 

Marcus was protecting her. 

Which she had very much asked him not to do.

More or less.

She didn’t really have the energy for semantics, not when her mind was already split. Attempting to focus between checking second-grade math homework and trying to decide what to do with the sealed bag of money she had smuggled home in her purse. It felt wrong to even consider slicing it open with Harris still awake, and so up until her head hit the pillow, Amy did her best to put the entire thing out of her mind. 

And so, alone in her bed — alone — the lights turned low and the apartment silent, she considered what to do. She traced the seams along the plastic, following the very path she had earlier. Marcus’s kiss had followed her home as well, his still seared into her skin. It played over and over in her head, a hot and heady movie that she never wanted to end, even as she did her best to understand what secrets the useless bag in front of her contained. There had to be something obvious the Heroic was looking for. A fingerprint maybe? Or maybe something more outlandish? A secret message between bad guys slipped between the bills?

She was starting to feel herself spiral, a growl of frustration spilling out of her as rubbed furiously at the seal on the bag. When no answer presented itself, she flung the whole thing across the bed, kicking it down to the floor, committed to forgetting the entire goddamn thing. It was only after a trip to the bathroom and a halfhearted scolding to the mirror that she fished the evidence bag out from under the coffee table and shoved it back into her purse, intent on returning the money before anyone had noticed it missing.

It was only after she had fired off a good night text to Marcus, the first tendrils of sleep just starting to pull her under, that she realized the answer.

——

M: Might be hard to reach for a bit. Work stuff. ☹️ A: Is it anything I can help with?  M: I’ll see you Friday 😘

——

Marcus frowns down at his phone, reading and rereading Amy’s text until the words blur together into meaningless nonsense. 

She never offers to help over text messages. And he never asks. It was one of the unspoken rules of their long-standing friendship. Something implicit and understood. A line Marcus and Amy both held themselves to, refusing to waiver, even when it would have made things easier by leaps and bounds. 

No paper trail. 

He knows it bothered her yesterday, watching him leave the precinct empty-handed. It was out of the ordinary, against her instincts to help him in the small ways that she could, and Marcus couldn’t help but wonder which of his promises he was breaking to her after only just making them. 

But how could he keep on taking? Keep asking? No. Not when the risk had grown too high, the toll too steep. He could find another answer. Would find one, if it meant Amy could keep the stability she had worked so hard to secure. He shakes his head, slips his phone back into his pocket and reminds himself of the only promise that felt important in the middle of a dark night, the danger just ahead and those he loved safe behind. 

Please be careful. 

——

In hindsight, the proximity to police work may have given Amy a heightened sense of hubris; her confidence far outweighing any fear she should have in dangerous situations. The amount of actual danger she had been in was less than zero. Even Harris’s birth had been uneventful, water breaking while she was at her 41-week check-up, one epidural, and a handful of screaming, cursing pushes later, and that was that. And really, what business did she have getting involved? She had no actual desire for violence or heroics. The only things Amy craved were a steady paycheck, a stable life for her kid, and a date with a certain superhero on Friday night. 

The very same superhero glaring at her, his frown deep and his eyes dark. All around them, there’s the flash of gunfire, the shouts of angry men, the curse of police officers and Heroics alike. Amy had been caught off-guard by the eruption of violence, clutching her bag close to her chest as Marcus dragged her to him, covering her head and cursing under his breath. When he lets her go, she can see they’re crouched behind a wall of wooden crates, the worst of hiding spots but enough cover to give Marcus room for all his anger. 

He tosses his swords down by their feet, before grabbing her shoulders, eyes chasing any possible injuries carved into her skin. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wanted to help! And you kept ignoring my texts.” 

“So you showed up to an official police operation with a bag of drug money?” He glares at the bag in question, the one she’s still holding tight to her chest. Truth be told it was only about a third of what was in the evidence locker, as much as Amy could fit and still walk out of the station without casting too many eyes on her. 

“I was trying to help,” she repeats, failing to hide her flinch when the sound of bullets hit closer, the splintering sound of wood hitting her ears. 

“And I was trying to keep you safe!”

“And I told you I didn’t need that!”

“Excuse me for thinking you meant the goddamn deadbeat that left you high and dry and not actual fucking criminals with guns! My mistake!”

“Look, I know your plan was to take the money and use it as bait.”

“That wasn’t my plan,” Marcus argues back, but she can tell he’s lying, his eyes cheating to the dingy ground below in time with his words. 

“What was then?”

He gestures wildly around them, gunshots and screaming fading in and out as they continue to stare each other down. “This, Ames. This stupid undercover thing was the plan.” 

“Then why ask about the money?”

“Does this feel like the right time for this conversation?” Marcus practically shouts, pulling her head down in time with the shot of another bullet in their direction.

“As good as any,” she snaps back even as she scoots in closer to his broad frame.

Marcus grumbles, rubbing one large hand down his face, and it’s only then that she notices his glasses are gone, and she hates how much she misses them. 

“I don’t know…fucking pride? The last thing I wanted was to go along with Baldwin’s plan.” 

“But when did he even tell you…”

“Saturday. And again on Monday.” 

Amy grows quiet, her mind turning over the new facts, her frustration deepening with each passing second. Marcus doesn’t say anything else instead focusing on tugging at the straps of his tac vest. He moves quickly, hands yanking at the buckles and Velcro wrapped around him until the thick black vest is falling away. Before she can ask what it is he’s doing, he’s throwing the very same vest over her head and pulling the straps as tight as he can. 

“Marcus, no—”

“Shut up, Amy.”

“But—”

“Shut. Up.” 

The look on his face is determined, his eyes blazing and his jaw clenched tight. He tugs at the straps again and again, ensuring they’re secure, only satisfied when the buckles no longer give beneath his strong grip. After, he takes care to cup her cheeks, the touch too tender a contrast to the bite of his tongue that follows.

“Listen to me. You’re going to stay low. You’re going to move fast. And you’re going to keep your eyes open.”

“Marcus…I can’t—“

“You can. The door is just behind us,” he points, before pulling her attention back to him. “It’s only a few steps. I’ll cover you. You get outside and then you run as fast and as far as you can. All the way back to the precinct if you can make it.” 

“But what about you?”

His gaze softens, thumbs sweeping gently up and down the curve of her cheek, holding her in place as he slowly leans in. The kiss is insistent but light, a brush of his lips she could have imagined if it weren’t for the danger still screaming all around them. He pulls back only to push her gently toward the back door of the warehouse with as much urgency as he can in his tender touch. 

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“You better,” she teases, despite the very worst of circumstances closing in on them. “You have a date Friday night.”

Marcus grins, shooting her a wink before he finally turns away. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

——

Marcus is tired. The kind that only came after a hard day’s work. The kind of tired that settles deep into your muscles, each movement worn but willing, leading to a rest that feels so very earned. He can feel it settling at the base of his spine, a burn that blooms with every breath he takes in. 

The entire night had been less than ideal from the get go; an undercover operation he had no desire to be a part of no matter how good the plan was followed by Amy’s unexpected involvement. He swore his heart stopped when he saw her through the chaos, her own body frozen in place as the danger swirled around her. He still isn’t quite sure how he got to her, but all that matters is that he did. 

By the time the dust settled and the danger had passed, he had two text messages waiting for him from Amy, promising she was safe and that she would be waiting for him at the precinct. It brought him the smallest amount of relief to know she was safe and so, unsure how late his night was going to go, he had encouraged her to go home for some much needed sleep. 

It shouldn’t have surprised him when she refused to listen. 

“That was some good work out there, Moreno.”

He hums from where he sits across from Baldwin, eyes heavy and limbs loose. The chair he’s slumped in feels more comfortable than usual, though only by a small margin, and he has a feeling this compromising accord the two men have reached won’t last much longer. He shifts left then right, in search of a better angle before nodding at the chief. 

“Same to you.” 

Behind him, Marcus hears a small cough and then a cup of coffee appears in his line of sight, a second offered to Baldwin. He’s about to turn and lecture Amy for the gift, intent on insisting one more time that she go home, but he’s slow on the draw, the other man beating him to it. 

“Are you seriously standing here right now, Oliver?”

Marcus feels her stiffen beside him, a stuttering response stuck on her tongue. 

“I…w-well…listen…Derek, I—“

“Go home. The paperwork can wait.” 

“Sir?”

Both of them whip their heads back towards where Baldwin sits, his legs stretched out long and his hands behind his head. “I appreciate you hanging around, but I promise. We’re good.”

His eyes glimmer with something unspoken, but he doesn’t elaborate and Amy is smart enough not to ask, turning back the way she came, squeezing Marcus’s shoulder once before she goes. 

“Same for you, Moreno. Not much else needed on your end.” 

It’s more than enough to have Marcus standing, following Amy with long quick strides, but the shout of his name stops him in his tracks, the step of his boot at the threshold of the door. He turns his head just enough to catch Derek Baldwin’s eye, the look on his face suddenly serious.

“Don’t hurt her.”

He nods, just once, before leaving the office for good, letting the door close gently behind him. Amy hasn’t gone far, watching Marcus from where she’s leaning all of her weight against her desk. From here she doesn’t look any worse for the wear, save for the bags beneath her eyes and the slight tremble in her fingertips. He can feel the rapid beat of her heart, the iron in her blood working double time as she comes down from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

He also can’t help but notice she’s still wearing his tac vest, the black Kevlar strapped tight to her chest, entirely too big on her small frame and somehow accentuating every one of her curves. Despite the fatigue settled deep in his bones, he suddenly feels very much awake, hands aching to reach out and touch. 

“Amy?”

At the sound of her name, her eyes well, tears pooling as her face crumples in. Marcus moves as fast as he can, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close enough to muffle the sound of her sobs into his chest. He doesn’t say much save for soft murmurs of comfort pressed into the crown of her head, content to hold her through the crash of emotions. Slowly her cries dampen, before finally they quiet completely, a heavy sniff and a shudder chasing after the last of her tears. 

“So,” he starts, pulling away just enough to look Amy in the eye, “I think there should be a rule about letting each other know when we plan to walk head-first into danger?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Amy laughs, her head falling forward to hit his chest, her fingers curled around his forearms. “For both of us, right?”

Marcus lets out his own laugh, lips finding the top of her head one more time. “That’s fair.” 

They move together after that, Amy collecting her coat and (empty) purse before the pair of them make their way to the front door. Marcus takes care to tuck her beneath his arm, not at all ready to have her even an inch out of reach. Once outside he breathes the cool night air in, allowing himself to relax fully. Amy leans in close enough to press a kiss to his shoulder, her breath warm and her lips soft. 

“So where’s Harris?”

“With Christine. It’s so late, I’m just gonna let her sleep there.”

“So, you’re on your own tonight?” 

“I am,” she answers, and he swears he can hear the way she smiles through those two words. “Could you…” she starts, her voice dipping low, “would you come home with me?”

“You sure?”

Marcus feels her nod, her cheek still pressed to his shoulder, her own arms snaking around his middle and holding tight. He pulls her in closer, and nods along with her, his own voice soft but sure. 

“Lead the way.”

-----------

Part 9 >>> Part 11

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

Thank you for reading!

[larabiatasstuff]

What if the sweettooth and the readers kid go into trouble with his friends for picking on someones else’s kids or on quiets & johns kids? ( like their son is 16 and they have a daughter whose 13 and readers prego 7 months in)

IF YOU DONT FEEL COMFORTABLE ON DOING THIS pls don’t write this, I love your work btw! 💗

This can be any if you are gonna write this, headcanon or one shot I don’t mind anything!

Hey anon, thank you so much for sending your request 🙏I absolutely love writing for Sweet Tooth and I think I can make something out of your idea. I'm glad you like my silly little writings and I hope you enjoy this too. 🖤

"Awww Quiet these clothes are so cute. Are you sure I can have them?" I asked looking at the little romper in my hands. "Yeah absolutely John and I are finished with the family planning. How are you so far? Is the little one giving you trouble?" she asked putting a hand on my belly. "I'm fine but it seems she's doing jumping jacks in there. I'm more worried about Marcus actually. I think puberty hit him really hard and he gets himself into trouble everytime he has the chance." I just finished my sentence when the door swung open and my thirteen year old daughter rushed into the kitchen." Mom! Oh hi auntie Quiet. Umm mom is dad home? "." No sweetie he's still on the road with uncle John what is it? "." Marcus had a fight with the neighbors boy and his dad wants to talk to you." I sighed "See what I mean? I'm sorry Quiet I have to handle that." I held my hand out and she helped me up from my seat. Lucy and I left our house and walked down the street where I could already hear the boys father screaming at my son. "Excuse me if want to raise your voice at someone I'm over here." the man looked from Marcus to me. "Took you long enough Missy. I don't know how you raise your kids but I won't let this hooligan pick on my son!" "First of all my name is not Missy and second why don't you try to calm down and explain what my son did?" the father took a deep breath. "Your son made fun of my poor little boy because of his stutter." I was shocked, Sweet Tooth and I always taught our children not to pick on somebodys disability. I looked him straight in the eye "Is that true Marcus ?" " Yes... but mom he deserved it..." My son started "Marcus Kane junior what did your father and I tell you about this? We're not bullying people! For gods sake!" "But mom...!" " No buts, you will apologize to that boy and then we're going home!" he took a deep breath "Okay... I'm sorry. Can we go?" Marcus said and turned to leave.

Part two🖤

[mr-nauseam]

Practice 4

Tw: shots

.

Mysterious shadows. Stealthy footsteps. The hiss of sandpaper clashing against metal.

 As midnight passed, some of the bars that hid the moon’s glow disappeared from the small window. Sejanus was the first to notice, as insomnia and anguish devoured his tiredness.

For a moment he felt relief, he naively thought they would live another day. All was not lost, he thought with some enthusiasm, but the harsh reality brought back to his idealistic and dreamy mind the realization that neither he, nor his cellmate Luke, who was there for stealing a slice of bread, would be able to get through that tiny hole.

Only the sickly, almost skull-like Lil could do it. Which meant that only she could be saved, and even if it hurt a little to accept that his own fate was definitely sealed by the Capitol, he knew it was still worth it to lift that poor girl out of her fevered slumber and help her out.

And he did it gently.

Taking her hand and then placing the girl on his shoulders, until strange hands helped her completely out of that hell hole. His other cellmate began until that moment to regain consciousness. Sejanus gave him a sad look when Luke asked about Lil, and before he could answer someone opened the door.

The chaos began.

.

They ended up scattered.

Sejanus knew he had to get off the damn base and head for the fence, to the rendezvous with his freedom, yet he wasn’t putting all his effort into escaping. Not yet. Knowing it was risky and totally reckless he was approaching the dormitories.

The days he spent in that cell, resigned and frustrated with his inevitable fate, there were a couple of things he regretted not doing, the first was saying goodbye to his mother. How selfish it had been of him not to dedicate an entire letter full of love, to his incredible Ma, how had he been so naive to believe that he might have a chance to do so once he fled?

The second was to never confess his feelings to Coryo. With one foot before the gallows, the guaranteed rejection of his best friend seemed the least of the evils to face in this world. He knew Coryo loved Lucy grey, but he had to tell him, not because he would expect his love, but because his heart could not breathe easy, suffocated by the weight of secrecy.

Now, he could not write that letter, but maybe, just maybe, he could carve on his eyelids the face of Coriolanus and tell him in a whisper from afar, behind glass that he loved him.

In the end, it didn’t matter, he would walk out of there a corpse, no matter what he did. The peacekeepers would not last to shoot him in cold blood and if he managed to flee, Sejanus Plinth’s life would be over forever.

.

Coriolanus thought it was ironic. Even somewhat hilarious that Sejanus’ fate was the same as Marcus’.

 And yet it seemed a fitting end for him. It made sense that the poor fool, the poor little guy who never got to go home, would meet his death while trying to flee the inevitable.

The commotion at the base was noticeable, his comrades muttering intangible things, but amidst the sounds that didn’t reach him came one word: “traitor.” He remembered that conversation he had with Sejanus, in which Sejanus asked him with his eternal regret if he thought he was a traitor.

Now there was only one answer to that question. Which was a consolation, because then he understood that he really had had no choice. There was only one worthy punishment for such a crime. And yet he knew that Sejanus had fought, with all the stubbornness and rebelliousness that dominated his spirit.

 Sejanus must have known this too, and he would be comforted in his last moments by this fact. Coriolanus sincerely hoped so.

 He was told that they would hang the corpses on the hanging tree for a couple of hours to give a message, he knew because they tried to send him to stand guard but fortunately or unfortunately, it seemed that his own sentence had arrived.

His already shaky hands got worse when he noticed he was being taken to the commander. He closed his eyes before he was forced inside. And he thought briefly that it would be a shame to be shot to dead.

.

Yeah well I already rewrote this idea for a fic completely and I haven't finished it because I wanted to do the omegaverse fic before but damn it at the time this cost me to do so im posting it here on tumblr lol

[shortpplfedup]

If you came to Young Royals for a ship, I suggest perhaps you walk on by. But if you came here for a story bayBEE are you in the right place. My favourite misfits, loners and outcasts are back with a vengeance in season 2 and wreaking the kind of havoc you can only get from people whose frontal lobes haven't finished developing. There's poor decision making! Ill-advised sexual escapades! Crushing anxiety! Threats and intimidation! Offers of procurement! Snitching! On-the-nose literature assignments! Unexpected coming out! Literal horse-trading! 18th century fashion! Romantic lesbian poetry! FIRE! At one point somebody pulls a gun! It's a rollercoaster ride of a season and I for one had a fabulous time riding it. My favourite bits:

Felice

Having decided to be a bad bitch for a living, Felice spends the entire season just doing that. Not one single solitary fuck was given by our girl in 6 entire episodes, as she snatched wigs and came for people's entire careers left and right. She started the season by telling her mother to kick rocks whilst getting a sickening sew-in, admitted to both sluttery and petty theft in the midst of selling a priceless racehorse, called both of her besties on their shitty behaviour towards her, and was the best looking, vibesiest person at that unbaked costume party (and for that matter in every scene she was in). She remains my absolute favourite character in this entire show.

Nils

Nils spent the entire season trying desperately and unsuccessfully to interest Wille in his high -mileage-but-at-least-it's-rich peen, to the point of offering to procure sexual partners on his behalf for what I assume would be some kind of Eyes-Wide-Shut action at a ski chalet somewhere? Idk, he got real weird real fast this season.

Marcus

A perfect cinnamon roll who did everything right including telling Simon to get over his victim complex.

Sara

Listen, say what you will but I HOWLED with laughter when she humped August's leg and then went 'yeah ok, I get it now, let's bone'. Poor fucked-up Sara, striving for a social status she hasn't a chance of achieving, or in the infinitesimal chance that she achieves it, maintaining. On the one hand I felt bad for her that it all collapsed around her, but on the other hand the moment she literally got into bed with August there was only one way this was going to go. Speaking of...

August

What a sweaty, cringey, desperate, pathetic mess of a human being. I enjoyed Wille taking away everything that mattered to him brick by brick while he cowered in fear that the men in grey suits were coming to put him down like Old Yeller at any moment. I REALLY enjoyed Wille menacing him with a loaded shotgun while Simon just watched in silence. August falling immediately for the first person who was nice to him, August getting an attitude the second Kristina put him in the line of succession, August convincing Alexander to take the fall for the video, August, August, August...what would this show be without the most pathetic villain alive?

Simon and Wille

Man this was Edvin Ryding's season, he put on a fucking CLINIC. 'I got a haircut' you awkward GOD. Wille was wound so tight this season I wondered when he would finally snap and of course he held it for when it would really count. Omar sold me on Simon's abject misery and righteous anger, but Edvin...Edvin was something otherworldly this season. I almost couldn't breathe watching him go THROUGH it.

All in all, Young Royals absolutely delivered on Season 2 and they had better announce Season 3 ASAP!

[mcgnussen]

“the best kevin” - a danish viaplay documentary about kevin magnussen (2/2):

haas troubles and meatball flags

according to kevin then you have to be a little arrogant when things don’t go your way in f1, you have to tell yourself that it will solve itself because if you start overthinking then you will begin making mistakes (he compares it to losing in poker and then you start betting more and more to gain what you have lost)  

k-mag’s only comment to the fia’s behaviour this year was a laugh and him saying “i’m not really sure what to say” which tells me he has plenty to say but also know not to say it 😅  

nikolaj, his physio/trainer, says that kevin is a master in getting over bad race weekends and focusing on the next race, he also gives louise props for this as she sends a lot of laura videos to kev to help distract him   

he says that it is still hard not to be affected when it does not go to plan, but a bad race weekend does not ruin his entire week anymore. kevin is more focused on solutions than dwelling on bad results and when he gets home to denmark, he puts it all aside and is there for louise and laura  

beforehand kevin would fear the future and was constantly in a state of “what if?” but now he does look at f1 more as a job and says it is still very important but it’s not everything in his life

the japanese gp and fear

kevin could quickly tell that the japanese gp would be very risky due to the amount of rain and he was not comfortable with it. as he says then the real danger in f1 is not hitting the wall (although obviously that can also be deadly but there is a high chance of survival) but instead hitting another car that you cannot see due to poor conditions and that is what kevin feared during the japanese gp  

driving in spray is comparable to driving in a thick cloud where you cannot even see your front wheels, you basically cannot even be sure that you are driving on the track   

even before the red flag then kevin has made up his mind that is was simply too dangerous and had backed off a little bit

austin and mark slade

there was a kevin and marcus ericsson reunion in austin! the two of them have known each other since they were kids and were pretty good buddies when marcus was also on the f1 grid    

kevin does not think about how many races without points, he deems that as bad energy and that is not how he works, so he did not have that in mind in austin  

having mark slade as a race engineer has really helped kevin who is grateful for mark’s vast experience and he has a high level of trust in him, kev said in the documentary that it allowed him to just focus on driving the car and not worry about everything else (earlier in the year then kev confessed that he had basically been given extra responsibilities due to a constant change of race engineers)   

during the austin gp, kevin decided to try and drive in a different way to nurse his tyres from the get go and it works. he then tells the team that he believes that he can get the tyres to the end and then the team had to decide whether to trust him or not. it was basically an all or nothing strategy. the team decided to trust him and told him to finish the race on the medium tyres. in the end, he finished the race as the only driver on a one-stop strategy with 38 laps old mediums that was supposed to only last 20 laps according to pirelli, the two points he scored in austin was meant that haas beat alpha tauri in the constructors  

while kevin was annoyed to lost the position to vettel who was on 15 laps old hards, he did think they managed some really good racing on that last lap of the austin gp  

kevin credit mark slade for his pole position, he said that it was mark who made sure everyone in the team did the right things and got him out in front of the queue

the brazilian sprint and kevin’s ambitions 

there is this cute scene with mark slade taking pictures of kevin’s car in the p1 box like a proud parent and then he has a conversation with guenther about it being a long time since he’s been there and guenther saying “i have never been here!” 😂  

kevin says his ultimate ambition is still to become world champion, he says that it feels fake to say “i’m totally alright with being where i am, it does not matter if i become world champion or not”, kevin is still aiming high and he feels that if he was offered a place in a top team then he would be deserving of the chance and he knows that he would be able to do a good job   

jesper said that when mazepin bought his way into the team then he felt like it was the beginning of the end of formula 1, but his love and belief in f1 returned when kevin got back purely on talent  

jan says that kevin being out of formula 1 was the extra push he needed, he said there was nothing to be afraid of anymore for kevin because he now knows there is a good life waiting on the other side of f1 as well and now he can drive with less pressure and be more honest with himself and the team, he says this is the best kevin (hence the title) that he has ever seen  

kevin says that he has never been afraid of getting hurt but he has been very afraid of failure and now he is not as afraid anymore  

kiesa, one of the danish experts, believes that there is a chance for kevin to get into a top team if he proves himself with amazing results several times during a season and the timing is right 

[wannabecatwriter]

“We’ll figure out the situation with your nails, Josie,” Chandra told her calmly. “Or you’ll just have to come without getting them done. Meanwhile, why don’t you get on the computer, find a reputable nail salon, pick out the exact style and quality you want, and bring that in to the artist? You know, what I told you to do initially.”

“Fine!” Josie stormed off.

“Is this the difficult client?” Marcus asked once the young woman was out of earshot.

“Yes. Now that you’ve had the chance to meet my ‘lovely’ niece, are you still up to doing this gig?” Chandra asked without any malice. “Honestly, I’d understand if you say no.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me,” he chuckled. “I’ve had my share of interesting characters show up at the bar. She’s probably not the worst. Give me the time and place. Unless you want to host the event at The Pigskin?”

“Marcus, you are a lifesaver. And I’ll text you all the info about the location and time by this evening.”

“Sure thing. But if you don’t mind me asking, how come you’re putting up with her behaving like this?”

“Family,” she shrugged. “At least with me around, believe it or not, she’s doing less damage than normally. Now, I think I owe my poor nail artist an apology and a nice bottle of wine.”

[thor-is-trans-and-pan-he-told-me]

another au idea that's been manifesting in my head for a few days

You know the drill,it's my annual rambling session.This au idea has been spending time in my mind for over a day and it's time for me to talk about it.

For some reason,we're getting into demons and angels.

Diego "Puss in boots"Sanchez(thinking of making them humans so that's why he got the name btw)is a legendary explorer,and known as "the demon whisperer"due to the fact that he's managed to tame many demons in his life.

After almost marrying his ex fiance Valeria "Kitty" Softpaws,Puss relishes in the glory and spotlight,living his best life.

One day,puss is contacted by the DCF(demon containment facility) about an important expedition that must be kept a secret. Puss,out of curiosity accepts the invitation and is driven to the facility.

He then meets a scientist who explains about the situation,telling him that one of their most powerful and deadly demons known as 368 recently escaped and is on the run and that he must be captured before anyone gets hurt. Even though there's other demon hunters in the world,they specifically chose puss due to the fact that he's managed to tame/capture many powerful demons thus earning him the name "The demon whisper" and "fearless hero".

After thinking about it,Puss agrees to go on the expedition.Where he then meets his crew on the expedition such as Perrito who is their guide(who also has a degree in therapy and in pyschology),along with a couple others.One day,puss comes face to face with the demon itself,and after he does,he wonders:Are demons really that bad?

Goldilocks never really had a friend when she was a kid,but that all changed one day when she met a boy who would quickly become her friend.Goldi and said boy(we'll come him "Marcus") became the best of friends,Marcus often spent his days at Goldi's house,usually playing with Goldi and Baby,and also helping them pull pranks on poor Papa Bear.

One day however,Marcus goes missing from the local orphanage,causing Goldi and the bears to help look for Goldi's best friend.

As the days go by,the chances of finding marcus decreases even more.As the years pass by,the bears too begin to lose hope but Goldi never does.She'll always remember her first ever friend.

Even though the years have passed,Goldi refuses to believe that Marcus ran away as the police said,instead believing that something else happened to marcus. Goldi decides to conduct a secret re-examination of Marcus's case,hoping that she can discover the truth about what happened to her friend.

But as Goldi begins her re-examination of Marcus's case and slowly gets closer to the truth,Goldi realizes that someone knows what she's doing and that the lives of her loved ones and her own life may be in danger.

Valeria "Kitty"Softpaws has left the spotlight and the many eyes watching that is the public,unlike her ex-fiance.She now lives in cottage by a small town,nice albeit a bit lonely times but Kitty finds it to be a comfortable life.Until she(like puss) finds herself being contacted by an organization who wants to spy on the DCF and want kitty to assist in helping them.

Though Kitty is at first suspicious of their intentions,kitty quickly finds out that they are not lying and that they are genuine.

After managing to get her disguise(kitty was a former spy btw in this au)down,kitty successfully manages to infiltrate the facility and gains the trust of other people in the building.

As kitty spends months in the facility,she realizes that whatever they're doing,it involves demons more specifically a certain demon.A demon known as...

368.

Whatever it involves,kitty realizes that the world is in danger,and she must do whatever it takes to protect it.

So yeah,this au is kind of a mess at the moment but I just wanted to share it.

Don't worry,pussdeath will be in this au,just need to figure out where it's gonna be-

[toournextadventure]

Bird surprising Marcus in class is a 100% "Surprise Mother fucker!" moment. Bird is glaring at Marcus with a evil smirk and Tara is swooning.

Bird is completely oblivious to Tara when it comes to Marcus while Tara is just in the stages of imprinting. Poor Chad, he thought he had a chance 😔

-🐺

No, Birb is focused, they are living for this moment

Meanwhile poor Tara is just over there swooning with literal heart eyes. She boutta fail that class frfr 😪