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wardenparker · 15 days ago

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Happy Birthday Baby

modern!Marcus Acacius x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: None, really! Aside from some food mentions, this is just a lot of fluff and yearning and sweetness. Summary: After spending years privately pining after you, Sheriff Marcus Acacius decides to ask your best friend for help in throwing you a surprise birthday party to remember so that he can finally tell you how he feels. Notes: Happy birthday to me! This year I decided I just wanted tooth-rotting fluff and sweet, sweet love with one of my favorite tropes: the love is requited, they're both just idiots.

Nothing inside or outside gives away the moment. No scraping of furniture being bumped as bodies jostle around. No crowded streets. Nothing but the light hum of the porch light as it glows, giving you the sight to slide your key into the lock. “I don’t know.” You murmur softly, feeling a little let down by the entire day. “It seems like no one even really knew it was my-“ you open the door as you continue to talk on the phone, coming in and letting it swing closed as you flick the light switch to the right of you.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Twenty people jump out of the shadows and from behind furniture to celebrate you. The banner hung behind them proclaiming it to be a happy birthday bash in glittery gold lettering and the small cottage where you live has been transformed into a princess themed space.

"Mom—I—I-gotta go—" You practically dop your cell out of your hand, eyes blurry with unshed tears. It's your purse that thuds to the ground, phone dropping into it when both of your limbs go completely slack. Friends, neighbors, and coworkers are pouring out of the woodwork with happy faces on a day that is normally so glum for you.

“Happy Birthday.” One man seemingly parts the crowd as he comes forward. The glittery and excessively bejeweled rhinestone crown would look ridiculous in the hands of some, but not the sheriff’s hands. Marcus Acacius shoots you a small smile as he stops in front of you and places the crown on your head. “Princess.” He murmurs that last part softly, stepping back to let the others swarm forward for hugs.

"What is going on?" The heavy, rhinestone-encrusted tiara sits precariously on your head as people start to swarm you and your heart is beating double time in excited confusion.

A surprise party?

Someone threw you a surprise party?

Beaming, Lucretia breaks through the bodies to crush you into a bone bruising hug. “Happy Birthday!” She squeals in your ear. “It’s been so fucking hard to keep this a secret all day.”

The music starts and it’s very obvious from the very first song that someone has put together a playlist of all your favorites. Out of the kitchen stream pans of finger foods and platters of charcuterie to spread out on your table to enjoy.

"You—" Clinging to your best friend in blubbering, you look around with a gaping expression. "You threw me a surprise party?" Lucretia has been your rock since college. The angelic blonde with her happy husband and athletic son that lived right next door to you, she had been everything from your shoulder to lean on to your biggest cheerleader over the years. But this is a whole new level even for her.

“Not me.” As much as she wants to take the credit for this, her idea for you was taking you out to dinner a few towns over for some fancy cocktails. “The sheriff.” She hisses quietly. “He planned all of this.”

"Marcus?" Your eyes widen and your head shoots up in surprise, immediately looking around the room to see where your boss had gotten off to. Being friends with your boss had been one thing. The last sheriff was a nice enough guy. But when Marcus Acacius came into town a few years ago you'd ended up nursing a crush almost instantly. It hadn't ever lessened.

“Yep.” She shoots you a grin. “Told me that no one was gonna fucking arrest him for breaking and entering.” It was a joke that she had found hilarious, especially since she had let everyone in using the key that lives on her keychain.

Drinks have started to be passed around and there is a magically mound of gifts that has appeared in the middle of your coffee table.

"But—" All you can do is watch as Lucretia grabs a glass of something colored with gold glitter in a champagne glass and hands it to you. "I—I mean—why?" In the last few years you've been happy to be his friend while wishing it were more, but nothing has ever happened. So why, out of nowhere, would he go and do all of this?

“You’d have to ask him that question.” She winks at you and then catches someone’s eye. “Mingle.” She tells you before she rushes off.

“Mingle?” The twenty-ish people here are all people you see on a weekly basis. Some even daily. Instead, you find yourself clinging to your glass as you search your house for Marcus — only to spot him in your dining room.

“Yeah.” Marcus is adjusting a tray himself, not likening how it was set out. Talking to one of the deputies that had helped. “Figured we’d do the cake in about twenty minutes?” He isn’t really asking but he’s found people respond better when they think they are included in the decision. “Let her talk a little.”

“Let who talk?” Coming up behind him, you gently reach out to touch his shoulder and smile when he looks surprised to find you standing there. “Lucretia said…This was your idea?”

“You don’t hate it, do you?” His heart drops for a single beat, horrified that he might have completely missed the mark on what would make you happy.

“N—no. Oh my god, no. It’s…” Looking around, you notice the little postcard-sized prints of the impressionist paintings that you love and all sorts of things that evoke royalty. Even the plate of sugar cookies on the table have little crowns and castles iced on them. “It’s amazing. I can’t thank you enough, but I don’t pretend to know why you did it.”

He chuckles softly and reaches out to adjust your crown where it tilted slightly. “You don’t know?” He asks, thinking that it should be obvious.

“I know it’s my birthday…” A day that normally concludes with a cupcake in front of your tv. Or, at most, dinner with Lucretia and her family. “And I know you’re a very good friend…” Not enough. He is so much more than that.

He hums as he looks around the party. “Why don’t we talk after a while?” He asks, not wanting to do this right now. He wants there to be time afterwards. “Right now, enjoy your party. You are the birthday girl.”

“I still don’t know why.” You reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “But thank you. It’s quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You deserve it.” He says honestly, his face a mixture of softness and slightly impatience. Not because he doesn’t want to talk to you. He does but what he has to say might completely derail the evening and he doesn’t want to do that to you. “I hope you didn’t drop your dinner when you dropped your purse.” He was aware your plans were to get take out and sit on your couch, he just didn’t know if you would splurge on delivery.

“No, just my jaw.” And now that you’ve picked it up, you’re smiling so hard that it feels like your face will split.

“You did look surprised.” He admits looking proud of that fact since he had managed to keep the entire thing under wraps long enough to keep people from spoiling it. It was worse than trying to plan a damn drug raid. Actually having to threaten to throw one deputy in the damn holding cells if he asked you what you wanted to drink at the party.

“Surprised,” you promise him, giving his arm another gentle squeeze before you remind yourself to take your hand back. “Is an understatement.”

“Sorry if you thought that people didn’t remember.” He shuffles awkwardly, thinking about what you had been saying when you walked in and feeling guilty. “I guess they took my threats about not giving anything away too serious.”

“My birthday hasn’t, historically, been a super fantastic day…” It occurs to you that you don’t know if you’ve ever told him the stories. Losing your Dad, the unfortunate domino affects, how you never really tried to reclaim the day as a happy one when bad things always seemed to happen. “You—you can’t possibly know how welcome a change something like this is.”

“Just wanted you to have a special day.” He is hoping that the party will show you how special you are to him. To everyone, but mostly him. “You’ll have to tell me what I didn’t get right.”

“I’m sure everything is perfect.” For you personally, the only thing that could be missing from a surprise like this would be him sweeping you off your feet, but you’re realistic enough to know that’s never going to happen.

******

“Tell me about her birthday plans.” He had cornered Lucretia and pretends that he’s not nervous as he sips from his cup of steaming black coffee. Hand causally propped on his hip, although he’s anything but causal right now as he plots.

“Less than usual.” Lucretia had admitted, though she had raised an eyebrow at the sheriff in the department’s little kitchenette. “She was talking about watching a movie and getting take out. Max and I thought we might invite her out. Lucius isn’t working this weekend so maybe we might drag her to something interesting.” She smirks in the pause between sentences. “Why?”

“Thinking that she deserves a party.” He’s noticed that nothing seems to be done for you. Nothing like he thinks you deserve, although he acknowledges that there is a little bit of bias in his opinion. “Think she would like that?”

“Like a surprise party?” Your best friend smirks and leans back at the counter, coffee in her hands. “She’d lose her mind with excitement.”

“Yeah?” Her perks up a little. “I want to show her how important she is.”

“So you decided on a birthday party instead of a bonus?” Lucretia asks, raising one eyebrow and taking in the whole idea.

“I can’t just give her a bonus for her birthday.” Marcus snorts. “But I can throw her a party. I just want it to be something she will love it.”

“Okay,” Lucretia hums, skeptical but amused. “And you need a coconspirator?”

“You have a key to her house, don’t you?” He asks. “Although who the fuck is gonna arrest me for breaking and entering?”

That only makes your best friend laugh and thumb her badge. “Suppose that would be me. But yes, I have a spare key to her place.”

“I’m thinking all her favorite finger foods. That ‘girl dinner’ stuff she’s always talking about. And her adult Lunchable stuff.” Half the time he doesn’t have a clue what you are talking about but he just likes to listen to you ramble.

“I’ll make you a list,” she offers immediately. Normally she tries not to meddle, but this is you. You deserve fantastic things and this certainly sounds fantastic.

“Good.” He takes another sip of his coffee and hates how he’s spinning his wheels over this. He’s fought, been to wars and led men through combat; but he’s balking at asking questions. Him. The man who interrogates psychopaths and doesn’t flinch when they threaten him. “What do you- uh- think about a royal theme?” He asks. “She likes that show right? Bridgerton? The one with all the snooty royals?”

Lucretia snorts, but she still nods. "Yeah, she does." She tilts her head slightly, enjoying the hell out of being the consultant for whatever the fuck the sheriff is pretending is a cover. She doesn't know what it's a cover for yet, but it feels like a quarterback about to ask the shy nerdy girl to prom when he's not sure she'll say yes. "The thing on the show is diamonds. The diamond of the season and stuff." Yes, she absolutely watches it with you, but you love it more than she does and that's okay.

“Diamonds.” His eyes widen slightly, imagining the real thing but he nods. “They are apparently a girl’s best friend.”

“Marc.” Right now he’s not the sheriff. He’s her friend. Her friend who is going through a hell of a lot of trouble for her best friend. “What’s really on your mind with all this?”

“Nothing.” His answer is too quick, too breezy to be truthful. Both she and he know it. She crosses her arms and lifts a brow at him. “Shit.” He huffs, setting down the mug so he can prop both of his hands on his hips. “I just- I want to show her-“ He’s at a loss for words. “I want to ask her out.”

“Okay.” On the outside, cool and composed, Lucretia just nods and sips her coffee. On the inside? Nobody knows how much energy you’ve spent pining over the sheriff than her. How many years you’ve tried convincing yourself to date other people only to have each of those men fall flat in comparison.

“Oh shit.” He takes her casual indifference as bad. “See? This is why I need the party. Everyone thinks I’m too rigid. That I’m intimidating.” He huffs. “Show her first that I can give her whimsical.”

“The bakery next door has her favorite sweets and her favorite teas.” She could tell him the truth. Tell him that you’re already crazy about him and that he could show up with a Hostess cupcake and a single candle and you’d still consider it the best birthday ever.

But fuck that.

She’ll let him twist a little.

“Favorite sweets and teas.” He files that away in his mind. “What about colors?” He demands. “I know pink, right? What else. It can’t just be pink, can it?”

"Pink, white, and silver." Oh, she is absolutely going to enjoy nudging him along this planning road. "Exactly how overboard are you planning on going with this?"

“Oh God, Oh God, everything’s shiny?” He’s making a joke, but he’s also asking for her approval.

"There's a website." Lucretia grins maniacally. "That sells replicas of real royal tiaras and jewelry. I don't know if they can ship in under a week but it would certainly drive the theme home."

“Send me the link.” He demands and picks up his cup. He looks up when you walk in the door, greeting everyone with a cheerful smile and he just nods and grunts a good morning before leaning close and whispering in Lucretia’s ear. “You tell her and I’ll make sure that you monitor the drunk tanks for the next two years.” He threatens.

"Got it boss." She mock salutes before pulling out her phone to send him the exact items on that site that you have been threatening to buy yourself for years but always find an excuse not to get.

Shooting you a covert glance as you make your way over to the electric kettle that had one day turned up in the break room after you complained about microwaving your coffee, Marcus turns on his heel and rushes toward his office. Unsure of what the hell you are going to think about all of this when it’s all said and done.

******

"Haaaaapppyyy biiiiirthdayyyy tooo youuuuuuuuu!"

Standing in the middle of your living room with a blubbering smile of awe on your face and the pinkest pink birthday cake all decorated with sliced strawberries and edible pearls, an exact replica of the Cartier Halo Tiara perched on your head, you're tearing up all over again as you blow out your candles. There's only a few there, not enough for your full age but that's fine, but they illuminate Marc's face as he stands across the coffee tale from you and you could swear that he looks nervous holding the tray with the cake on it.

Close your eyes. Make a wish.

That's easy, you think, closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart as you blow those candles out. I wish he loved me too.

Marcus watches as you blow out the candles, a small smile of satisfaction coming from the way you have just soaked up all the love from tonight. He’s seen you laughing and talking, drinking some champagne as you nibble on the charcuterie boards and glance around the room for him. He thinks you might love it. “Who wants cake?” He asks, grinning at you. “Birthday girl first, of course.”

"Oh! I'll go ge—"

"I've got them." Lucretia reappears beside you with a silver cake cutting set. Keepsakes from your parent's wedding that were amongst your favorite mementos of them.

"Thank you, honey." You beam at your best friend as you take them up, and end up squealing just seconds later when you cut open the cake and find more fresh strawberries between each layer of fluffy cake sponge.

Marcus watches your obvious joy with supreme satisfaction. He had gone into the little shop Lucretia had told him about to order all the cookies and the cake. Wanting to know what treat you bought for yourself most often the strawberry sponge cupcake was a favorite of yours and he had based the cake on that. Asking for a delicious and delicate confectionary creation and he’s relieved that you like it.

Slicing up the cake takes a few minutes, but before too long everyone is sitting around the living room and kitchen enjoying the evening’s treat. It’s all you can really do to not be blubbery or overwhelmed as you sit in a group of friends and chat with them, while most of them don’t really know how much this means to you. People just know you’re not big on your birthday — you haven’t made a practice of talking about it more. This is so much more than you ever could have dreamed of.

You seem happy as you eat your cake, Marcus is sipping a beer from the other side of the room. Watching as you occasionally look around. As if you are in complete disbelief this is happening. He frowns slightly, hating that you feel so unseen, hoping this will help show you how he sees you.

“Honey why don’t you get some air?” Lucretia suggests quietly, maybe a half hour later. The party is starting to wind down and she knows you can get overwhelmed easily. The night outside is cool and she glances past you to where Marcus is sitting, watching him watch you. “I’ll start cleaning up in here, don’t worry about a thing.”

There’s champagne glasses and plates that need to be picked up. Marcus had bought the fancy disposable ones that just need a trash bag. But there’s still a lot of food left over and the wrappings from your present but there’s still one more that needs to be gifted to you. It’s a personal gift, in his pocket. So when you slip out onto the back porch, Marcus follows you.

“Thank you.” The first words out of your mouth are gratitude when you turn and see who has come outside with you. Marcus is like you are — he can do big groups and parties and things up to a point but his social battery does eventually run out. For you, though? Marcus isn’t a person who requires that social battery to spend time with. He soothes you, rather than draining you. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place.

He doesn’t brush off your thanks or ask what it’s for. Both of you know and it would minimize the experience if he did. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks instead, stepping closer and watching you.

“I think it might be the nicest day I’ve had in years.” This morning Lucretia had taken you out for manicures and brunch, then you had wandered the local bookstore for a while before stopping for a coffee and coming home. In the walk back to your place, you had chatted with your mother on the phone and debated what to order for dinner and what movie to watch. It was already shaping up to be an above average birthday before this happened. “No. I—I know it is. The whole thing is wonderful, Marc. I really…I don’t know what I did to deserve it but I appreciate it so much.”

“You don’t know?” He lifts his brow and gives you a slightly huff of disbelief. “You deserve this for everything you do and so much more.” He’s always thought your modest dismissal of thanks or praise was just embarrassment, not needing attention but now he wonders if you really believe that.

“The last time I checked,” you laugh softly and touch the tiara in your hair. “Hard work wasn’t exactly the path to becoming a princess.”

“Not in reality.” He admits, smiling as you seem to relax and the way you touch the tiara was almost in adoration. “But you deserve to be treated like one.”

“I’m going to remind you of that the next time I’m drowning in paperwork and you need something expedited,” you tease. You’d do anything for him without hesitation, but he doesn’t know that. And he sure as hell doesn’t know why.

“I never ask unless it’s important.” He reminds you, stepping closer again and looking out over the backyard before looking back at you.

Every step closer gives you a little thrill but you have a lot of practice keeping it inside. “I know,” you assure him. “And I always take care of it.”

“I know.” He nods, his lips curving slightly in a smile. “So did I miss anything tonight?” He asks, wanting to make sure that it was perfect for you.

“It was perfect.” The only thing you could possibly want more is him, but you’re realistic in that front. He’s your boss and your friend, and you’ll learn to be content with that.

“That’s good.” He is completely relieved and he swallows as he moves even closer. “I wanted today to be perfect.” He confesses. “Although you’ve got one more gift to open.” He pulls a box out of his pocket. “Waited to give you this.” He looks at the box and then at you. “Wanted to do this in private.”

“What’s…” In your wildest, most indulgent imagination, that is the exact size and shape of a jewelry box. It even has a beautiful little ribbon on it that looks like it was tied with so much care. “You didn’t have to get me anything... This is already so much.”

“This gift comes with some conditions.” Marcus says seriously, even though it would give you the ring if you didn’t agree with his conditions.

As much as you want to reach for the little box, this moment just became serious, and you keep your hands staunchly at your side. “Do I get to know they are beforehand?”

“No.” Marcus wavers. “Yes.” He pushes the box toward you. “More of a promise.” He clarifies. “It’s my promise to you, if you want it.”

“I don’t…understand?” He hands him up the box, hand practically trembling as he does. You pull the ribbon almost reluctantly — it really is lovely — and have already decided to keep it as a bookmark when you take the lid off the box. The there a small, velvet case inside that is unmistakably a jewelry box and your eyes shoot up to his with a gasp.

You like diamond and you like the color pink. Those two thoughts were in his mind when he went to jewelry store. To find something to show you, prove to you that he could be what you want. That he was willing to be. Seven pink diamonds make up the petals of a flower, surrounded by white diamonds on the leaves. A little promise ring.

For just a split second when you open the box, you’re certain you’re dreaming. You must have come home as planned and fallen asleep watching a movie. There is absolutely no way at all that this is real.

Except you never could have planned this party for yourself in a million years. Even the thought would be too indulgent. You would never have imagined this many people would even show up. And you never would have imagined how big and soft Marc’s eyes could go, like the way he’s looking at you now.

“I…don’t understand,” you repeat, but it’s softer this time. And so full of wonder. Of hope.

“It’s my promise to you.” He explains, reaching for the hand that isn’t holding the box. “To love you. Everyday.” He murmurs softly.

“You—you love me?” You’re dreaming. You’re absolutely dreaming. But has he ever held your hand before? Ever? No…you would remember that.

“I do.” Marcus won’t ever deny that. Not when he wants to show you how he can treat you. “And I want- I know that I’ve been a bachelor for a long time, but I want to see what we can be together.”

“I love you.” You practically cut through his thought with your own, too heart-poundingly astonished to say anything else for a few long moments. “I-I mean, I have since we met. But I didn’t think—this feels like I’m dreaming.”

Marcus smiles as he steps closer and reaches for your waist. “You do?” He asks, eyes lighting up in delight. “Because I thought I was going to have to convince you.”

“I honestly don’t know how you didn’t figure it out a long time ago.” He’s touching you. He’s touching your waist and stepping closer and to sweat your skin is about to catch fire. “I’m not exactly cool about it or anything.”

“I thought you were uncomfortable with me.” Marcus confesses. “I know I’m…a lot to deal with, but I hoped that you would know I would never hurt you.”

"I'm sorry if I ever gave you that impression." Tentatively, the hand not holding the little ring box comes to rest on his arm. "I was trying not to be the obvious receptionist in love with her boss."

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” He promises. “I just want to show you that I want to give you everything.”

The dreamy look on your face has spilled over to make all of you feel soft, and you practically sigh. “Is this really real?”

“Only if you want it to be.” Marcus reaches up and caresses your cheek. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

"I don't think I've ever wanted anything more in my entire life," you tell him honestly, even if your voice is soft with disbelief.

He is so fucking happy you aren’t rejecting him. He had been nervous about messing things up here at the end. “Then it’s my job to make sure you don’t regret that choice.”

"Impossible." It feels that way to you, especially with the man you've been dreaming about for three years leaning into your space. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest at any second.

His fingers are still brushing against your cheek and he slides them down to curl around the back of your neck to tilt your head. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

"If you don't, I might spontaneously combust," you murmur, letting out a breathy laugh.

“We can’t have that, can we?” He asks as he lowers his head slowly. There’s humor in his tone, but his eyes are dark and hungry. Intense as he watches you. Making sure that you want this.

Luckily for Marcus, there is no doubt. No hesitation. No moment of second thought. The usual invading self-doubt has fled your mind and left room only for the way he’s looking at you, which you’ll try your best to unpack and understand after the all-consuming press of his lips to yours has ended — which is hopefully sometime in the far, far future.

Marcus is a man who is both feared and respected. Violence has been a part of his reality for a long time, although he doesn’t consider himself a violent man. For this, he makes himself soft. This is him introducing himself to you in a far different way.

It’s better than any dream you’ve ever had. The way he softens to mold to you, to hold you so completely in the cradle of his arms? It’s the only thing tethering you to the ground. Without it you might have floated away into the clouds the moment the kiss deepens.

He’s slowly coaxing your mouth open, not that there is a shred of resistance in your body. The ring box actually falls to the ground, tipping out of your hand as you completely give in to him. He groans your name into your mouth as he pulls you closer.

In a moment’s notice he has you practically bent over the railing of your little porch, supported only by his arms wrapped around your body. Years of longing have been cut free in a torrent and if it never ends then you’ll be a very happy woman.

Marcus solely focuses on you. Learning the way you sound and memorizing how you feel in his arms. Enjoying the way you respond to him, even though this has not gone farther than your first kiss.

Intense will be the word you use to describe it later, but for now you sink into the feeling and learn what it means to be shaped by his body until you both have to breathe for fear of getting too caught up in the moment.

When Marcus pulls back, he’s taking a deep breath and his eyes are opening to see what you thought about that kiss.

The fact that it takes you a second to even do anything but smile should be his first clue. “I—” you look up at him with wide eyes. “…wow.”

“Yeah?” He leans in and nudges his nose against yours and smiles. “I think so too, love.”

“This is a dream come true,” you whisper, that fondness in your voice feeling endless and bounding. “I-genuinely can’t believe you did all this.”

“All for you.” He promises, smiling gently as his caressed your cheek again. “I would do anything for you.”

******

After the whirlwind that was your birthday on Saturday night and having Marcus come over Sunday to spend time together, going in to work on Monday morning with his ring on your finger and the taste of him lingering on your lips feels like walking into high school wearing your new boyfriend’s letterman jacket. Nothing short of an utter disaster could ruin your mood today.

Marcus is already at work, as he often is, when you come into the office. Ignoring the way that his heart pounds in his chest when he sees the pretty ring that you are displaying and he moves to your desk immediately. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He murmurs as he picks up your travel coffee cup you use for your tea. “Need a refill?”

“Good morning, handsome.” So what if there are hearts in your eyes and sugar in your smile? You’re so happy you could just burst. “If you’re headed to the kitchen I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, pleased that you would want to. “You can stay and get situated.” He knows that you need a moment to get organized but you are quickly shaking your head and moving closer to him.

“I still have five minutes before my day officially begins,” you remind him, skirting your desk to walk into the kitchen side by side. “And I’d like to spend it with you.”

“I don’t mind that at all.” He confesses as he looks over at you with a soft smile. “Did you sleep well last night? You look beautiful today.” He tilts his head. “But you are missing your crown.”

“It’s sitting on my vanity waiting to be worn again,” you assure him, nose wrinkling on a laugh. “And I slept beautifully with the most wonderful dreams. I hope you did, too?”

“Honestly?” Marcus moves over to the kettle and flips it on. It’s already full of water and there is a tea bag out. He had already been here and prepped for getting your tea made. “I was a little restless.”

“Oh no.” Your eyes turn up to his, full of sympathy. “Why? What happened?”

“There wasn’t a princess in my arms to hold.” The line sounds corny in his head, and he almost didn’t say it, but he wants to give you outrageous compliments. To make you feel special and make you fluster.

“Marc.” It isn’t necessarily hard to get that reaction out of your, especially when it’s him. Especially when it’s such a sweet compliment. “You didn’t have to leave last night, you know.”

“I want to at least take you out to dinner before we spend the night together.” He huffs, shaking his head. “You deserve that much.”

“Well,” you nudge him playfully. “You know I’m always free for you.”

“Dinner tonight?” He asks seriously. “I was thinking we could go to that little Italian place?”

“I love that place.” But he knows that. He’s paid attention. For years he’s been paying attention and you hadn’t known.

“You want to go?” He asks, even though you are already nodding. “Seven sound good? Give you time to reset after work?”

“I’ll go home and change.” Work clothes are nice enough, but for your first real date with him you’d like to get a little dolled up.

“I’ll call and make sure they hold a table for us.” Reservations aren’t really a thing, but they are willing to accommodate him just due to his status as sheriff.

“That’s very fancy of you.” Waiting for the kettle to boil is such a nice chance to breathe, and if you weren’t at work you would be cuddling into his side right now.

“I just want to make sure that you have what you want.” He chuckles softly.

“I already do,” you promise him under the pitched whistle of the kettle. “I have you now.”

“Yes you do.” The gaze he gives you is one of heated adoration. The want is fused with love in his eyes.

“You can’t look at me like that at work,” you admonish, immediately looking away again as you grin. “This room has no door!”

“You don’t think I’ll kiss you in a room without a door?” Marcus asks, cocking an eyebrow up in amusement.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to—you know—tell people.” Specifically, if he wanted to tell people at work. With him being your boss there is a measure of gossip that could happen, even though you had the post for the sheriff before him, too.

“That is completely up to you.” He promises. “You are in charge of who knows and when.”

“Are you sure about that?” The beaming smile on your face gives you away. “Because if it’s up to me I’m telling everyone.”

“Tell away.” He smirks slightly. “Shout it from the roof top and let everyone know. I’m proud of it.” He leans closer. “And I’m going to make sure that your bonuses and yearly reviews are switched to Lucretia. That way no one can claim that I’m biased, which I am.”

“My best friend instead of my significant other,” you smirk. “That will be much less biased.”

“They can’t argue as much about her, considering I will be sleeping with you by that point.” His voice drops down to almost a growl.

"Promises, promises." The shiver it sends through you is delicious, though, and you fluster watching him fill up your travel mug with a new tea bag and plenty of steaming hot water.

“It is a promise.” He hums softly, reaching out to caress your waist.

The press of him against you is grounding despite the fact that having Marcus crowd into your space before he leans into kiss you sends your heart soaring into the stratosphere. His taste is familiar now, warming you through from the tips of your toes all the way up to the top of your head. The point where his hand has found your waist burns as much as the hand he has cupped your jaw, but for the pure bliss of that particular heat? You would walk through fire without hesitation.

"I love you." The little whisper between you when he pulls back means everything, and you can feel him smile against your lips.

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

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Marcus Acacius x female reader #Marcus Acacius x f!reader #Marcus Acacius #Marcus Acacius x reader #Gladiator 2 #sheriff au #modern au #birthday fic

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